Frank rows, while Abby lights their way with her glowing yellow hand to provide them a 20 foot sight-line radius. Abby is the first to spot the remains of an old boat dock, and points the way to Frank. He adjusts course and paddles with a little more vigor.
In a small row boat, Frank and Abby drift across the quiet East River, edging closer to the darkened island’s overgrown tree line.
Night Terror tilts his head back to her, but Blitz is long gone. He puffs out a sigh, then crouches down, notepad back in lap, and tries very hard to push the last few minutes out of his mind.
That’s Gutiérrez’s Miami connection. They weren’t due in for another day. Listen Blitz, I need to…
Night Terror spins around and looks down. Two men in expensive suits approach the Caldero’s front door.
Blitz and Night Terror – both tense and silent – glare at each other, until Blitz breaks the stare-down to look past him.
