Third POV
The east docks were shrouded in darkness. The old warehouse loomed over the dock like a forgotten tomb, making it the perfect place for exactly the kind of nefarious business that happened after midnight.
The streetlights barely worked and a thick fog had settled in and the air carried the smell of fuel and diesel alongside the sound of the black canal waters nearby.
Officers surrounded the area, hidden between shipping containers with their weapons raised and their eyes fixed on the lead detective for the signal.
With his back pressed against cold metal and his Glock heavy in his sweating palms he counted the seconds in his head. Gina Wolfe should be arriving any moment now. Finnegan had been right.
After the deliberate conversation planted inside the police station about having locked in Devin's location, Gina's mole had done exactly what they'd anticipated and carried the information straight back to her.
