“I’m so fucked. So, so fucked.” I itched to light up a cigarette. “She saw it all.”

Peter snorted. “She’s tougher than you think.”

We sat in the back of a speed boat, gently rocking on the Delaware as we waited for a particular tugboat to appear—one that carried heroin straight from Afghanistan to the Russians. Other boats dotted the river, some seemingly docked for the night, their lights off, giving no clue as to the dozens of men with guns inside.

“I think she’s tough.” My hand reached for a phantom pack of cigs in my suit coat pocket. “But this life isn’t for her.”

“No, you don’t want it to be for her.” Peter gave me a knowing look. “That’s not the same thing.”

I wanted to punch him, if only to release some of the tension. “Did you and Con get together or something? Have a reach-around sesh and talk about my love life?”

Peter grinned. “If the stone-cold killer gives the same advice as I do, then you know it’s the gospel truth.”

Fuck if he wasn’t right. “It doesn’t matter. She’s young, and she’s already been through enough. We’re rough. A bunch of assholes, really. She’s not like us.”

“I could teach her some torture techniques. Not just defense.” David kept his gaze downriver.

Peter let out a hooting laugh, but I wasn’t entirely convinced David was joking.

“So now we’re offering an immersive course in mafia affairs?” I rubbed my eyes. “That’s not on her agenda. Temple is. Law school is.”

“You’re going to have to let her in.” Peter leaned back, his elbows on the silver railing.

“That’s the problem. I already did. She’s all in here.” I pointed to a random spot on my chest. Just happened to be my heart. Coincidence.

“We know that.” David grunted and stared toward a distant boat approaching on the black water, only a tiny sliver moon giving any light. “You love her. Obvious.”

“Obvious?” I gawked at the meaty motherfucker.

“Yeah.” Angus’s voice floated up from the stern of the boat. “You two are done. May as well set the date.”

“Mind your own business, Irish! Shouldn’t even be here. Your dad is going to lose his shit when he finds out.” I turned to Peter. “And since when did you know shit about women? I haven’t seen you or Frankenstein over here with a woman in forever.”

Peter opened his mouth to protest.

“Your one-night chicks don’t fucking count,” I cut in.

“Just because I don’t have it for myself doesn’t mean I can’t call it when I see it. You two are the forever sort of thing. Me? I haven’t found the right one yet.” He smirked. “Doesn’t mean I don’t have try-outs at least once a week, though.”

“You mean with your hand?” I did a jerk-off motion. “Can’t decide if your true love is the left or the right?”

Peter grinned. “Oh fuck off, Nate.”

I turned to David. “What about you, NeckBolts?”

Peter cleared his throat as David stared across the water.

“David doesn’t talk about her,” Peter said quietly.

Oh, shiiiittt. David had a lady? What happened to her? Peter could have nailed me in the face with a two by four, and I wouldn’t have been more surprised than I was at that moment.

Peter’s handheld crackled to life. “Two speedboats, one in front and one behind. The tug has at least a dozen men, maybe more, onboard.”

“Looks like it’s going to be a party.” I snagged my submachine gun from the bow of the boat.

Peter loaded up with two pistols and his favorite Uzi. David wasn’t dicking around, either. He pulled out our newest asset, which took up half the space in the boat, a rotary minigun capable of firing 5,000 rounds a minute. The deck was stacked with ammo canisters, and the plan was for Angus to pilot the boat around the heroin-laden tug while David went Rambo with the gun. It would be a miracle if he didn’t tag one of our own guys in the coming melee.

I took the handheld from Peter and clicked it on to broadcast to all my men. “Game faces, gentleman. Tonight, we strike back. Our number one priority is taking the tug. If shit goes south, we’ll sink the fucking thing. But we will not let the Russians get their filthy paws on that product. We are going to take their futures and make them ours. We will build our empire on their bones and dare any fucker to try and take it from us. Let’s get to work.” I clicked it off and tossed it back to Peter.

He raised an eyebrow. “That was actually hella inspiring.”

“Why are you so fucking surprised?” I palmed my gun and peered into the gloom, the low hum of a speedboat bouncing across the water.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “You just seem different these days. More, I don’t know, bossly or something.”

“Bossly?” I shot a glance to David. “You get a load of this guy?”

“He’s right.” The meathead nodded. “It’s Sabrina. She makes you better.”

I know. The speedboat, sleek and white, appeared from the shadows, the tugboat not far behind. A smattering of gunfire pierced the night, barrels flashing on the west shore. As we’d planned, the boats veered away from the danger, hugging the eastern side of the channel. They returned fire, but my guys were well-protected on the shore.

Peter held the wireless at the ready. I held a hand up, waiting for the right moment to strike. The boats increased their speed away from the shooters, racing toward the finish line with their load of smack. They didn’t notice the other tug boat near the west bank. Why would they? It was dark, seemingly anchored for the night.

I dropped my hand, and Peter spoke into the handheld. “Now.”

The tugboat roared to life, its engines already warmed up. At full blast, it pushed toward the shore, and behind it, a hundred feet of metal cable rose from the water, the other end bolted to a steel dock. Snapping tight just above the waterline, the wire groaned under the tension.

The first speedboat didn’t have a chance. It rammed the wire, which ripped it apart, cut through the wood and fiberglass like a blunt knife in the hand of a killer. Only a splintered husk remained, the dual engines sputtering as they sank. The Russians’ tug slowed and began to turn, seeking to escape.

“Let’s go.” I spun my finger in the air.

An armada of boats powered into the river, forming a floating wall down and upriver from the tug and the second speed boat. They had nowhere to go. The speedboat tore a circle around the tugboat, the men onboard firing indiscriminately outward.

As it approached, I glanced at David, who held the rotary gun at his hip. “Light it up.”

The gun whined as the carbine began to spin. Then David put the hammer down. Slugs cut through the dark river, sending up a small jet of water. When his aim found the boat, he sliced through it almost as surely as the cable had cut through the other one. Round after round, he destroyed their hull as the other boats fired on the men aboard. It only took seconds for it to become a lifeless hulk floating in the cold water.

Only the tug was left, floating in a sea of killers, the way blocked.

“Hello?” A thick Russian accent marked the voice. “You in the boats there?”

I whirled. It was coming from the onboard radio.

“Hello, I’d like to talk. Okay?”

Peter looked at me and shrugged.

I stepped over and picked up the mic. “Yeah.”

“You want the shipment, yes? Okay?” Banging sounded in the background.

“Yes.”

“I’m not with Dmitri. Okay? I drive boat. Okay? That’s all. Okay?”

“Why does he keep saying okay?” Peter mouthed.

I cocked my head to the side. “Okay.”

“I told Dmitri’s people maybe we should give up. They try to kill me, so I’m locked in cockpit. But, I can help you. Okay?” More banging and yells that I could hear on the radio and over the water.

“Sure. What’s your plan, buddy?”

“Yuri. I am Yuri.”

“Yuri, what’s the deal?”

“I saw the cable on the water. I ram cable. I hold on tight. But Dmitri’s men go flying. Okay?”

I pressed the mic to my chest while I thought it over.

David frowned. “But I want to use the Rambo gun.” He hefted the rotary killing machine higher on his hip.

“You can still use it. Just not as much.”

“Eh, but you must promise you let me go. Okay?” Gunfire had been added to the yelling and pounding. “And decide quick.”

“What could it hurt?” I clicked the radio back on. “You’ve got a deal, Yuri.”

“Okay.”

Peter spoke into his handheld. “All the boats near the cable need to clear out. And our tug needs to pull as hard as possible.”

The ships dispersed as more gunfire erupted around the captain’s door on Yuri’s tug.

“Yippee ki-yay, motherfuckers!” Yuri yelled over the radio as his tug’s engine roared to life, the boat shooting forward. Our tug’s engine matched the sound, pulling the cable taut as the bolts holding it to the decking across the river whined under the pressure.

“This is going to be epic.” Peter leaned over the side of our speedboat as Angus piloted us in reverse away from the cable. If it snapped, it could whip us right in half.

The tug picked up speed, men flying off the back and into the churning wake. It ate up the fifty feet between it and the cable in a heartbeat. It jerked violently against the metal, men and machinery flying off the deck as the tug listed sideways, almost capsizing from the momentum.

The cable finally gave up and pulled free from the steel dock. It lashed out and around toward our tug but slapped into the water before reaching it and doing any damage. The ensuing chaos had all of us gripping the railing as waves and calamity rocked through the water. Once the biggest wave passed, Angus motored us toward the tug as David peppered the deck with bullets. It was unnecessary; there wasn’t a soul in sight. But he was having fun, so I let him keep at it.

I pressed the button on the mic. “Yuri?”

Silence except for the rapid fire and thunk of bullets into metal and wood.

“I think the fucker did himself in.”

Peter rounded up our men, forming a boarding party. We needed to get control of the tug and get downriver fast. All the noise would be sure to bring attention, and the police would have to do something despite their payoff.

I was about to give the go-ahead when a voice crackled over the radio.

“Okay?”