Chapter 2: Heat on the Pier
Chapter 2: Heat on the Pier Morning in Miami hit like a rum punch to the face—hot, fast, and not asking questions. Sgt. Zinshed rolled out of bed in nothing but silk boxers and a gold chain, stepped over two sleeping models, and answered the buzzing burner phone on the windowsill. “Zinshed here.” “Pier 47. Fire. Possible sabotage. Someone wants Vice outta the picture.” Click. Meanwhile, Sgt. Salty was poolside at the Fontainebleau, sipping green juice and flirting with a swimsuit designer named Tatiana when his phone lit up. “Duty calls, darling,” he said, kissing her hand and slipping on his shades. Thirty minutes later, the team regrouped at the smoking ruins of Pier 47. Lila Blaze had her hair up, her expression razor sharp. Kicks Malone had brought coffee and an illegal drone he nicknamed “Lil’ Peep.” “What’re we lookin’ at?” Zinshed asked, surveying the charred warehouse. “Explosives, likely remote triggered,” Lila said, crouching by melted crates labeled Del Oro Im...