Jett had Stephen's head cupped in a single hand, the fingers tight and unyielding. Max had Anton by the hair, hauling him forward like a ragdoll. For a heartbeat the two of them just stared at each other, the container-yard crowd holding its breath around the edges. The metallic hush of the night felt thicker than it had a second ago, everyone waiting for what either man would do next.
Finally, Jett let go. He released his fingers from Stephen's skull and Stephen's body dropped to the concrete with a dull thud. The air stirred with the small sound of someone sucking in a breath; someone else swore softly; others shifted, preparing for whatever would follow.
"So you actually managed to do it?" Jett asked, voice low and edged with a curious mix of irritation and respect. "You managed to get the slimy person that was behind all of this?"
His gaze flicked from Max to Anton and back again. The crowd watched, hanging on his every sentence like it was an auctioneer calling price.
