HAROLD'S POV - 11:00 PM
The warehouse in Red Hook looked like something out of a crime thriller....abandoned, dark, surrounded by empty lots and shuttered industrial buildings. Harold's driver had been reluctant to bring him here, had asked three times if he was sure about the address.
Harold had been sure. Desperate men couldn't afford to be picky about meeting locations.
He stepped out of the car, carrying a black leather briefcase containing fifty thousand dollars in cash. His driver stayed with the vehicle, engine running, ready for a quick getaway if necessary.
The warehouse door was slightly ajar, a sliver of light visible from inside. Harold pushed it open and stepped into a vast, mostly empty space. Old machinery rusted in corners. Broken pallets were stacked against walls. The air smelled of oil and decay.
In the center of the space, illuminated by a single hanging work light, stood a man.
