CHAPTER 071
JULIAN’S POV
We stepped outside, ready to start the journey, but the sight that greeted me made me stop in my tracks. Sitting out front, like some relic from a war museum, was an old military truck that looked like it had seen better decades–maybe even centuries.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said, narrowing my eyes at the beast of a vehicle. My gaze shifted to Ronnie, hoping he’d tell me this was some kind of bad joke.
Ronnie, unfazed by my reaction, walked up to the truck with a certain pride in his step. He placed both hands on the hood, giving it a few affectionate pats like it was some prized possession.
“This bad boy has been with us since day one,” he said with a grin. “So yeah, we’re riding in it.”
I could hardly believe it. Sure, I wasn’t someone obsessed with flashy cars or luxury for the show, but even I had standards. This truck didn’t just cross the line–it obliterated it. One of the tires looked like it was hanging by a thread, the paint was chipped to hell, and I could practically hear the rust screaming.
“You do realize that’s a military truck, right?” I replied, crossing my arms over my chest. “We’re not storming a battlefield. If we show up in that thing, we’re going to scare the guy half to death before we even get to the door. We’re supposed to be discreet.”
Ronnie glanced at the others, and for a moment, they all seemed to consider my point seriously. They gave each other a look that silently said: Yeah, maybe the boss is right about this one.
“We need something that blends in,” l’added, keeping my tone firm. “Why don’t we just
use one of mine?”
Without
, one of the guys nodded. “Alright, boss.”
Within minutes, they swapped the relic for something far more suitable–two black Cadillac Escalades. Now this was more like it. Clean, professional, understated yet powerful. We loaded up and hit the road.
To be honest, I wasn’t feeling much tension. This wasn’t supposed to be a high–stakes mission; it was just a quick job. In and out. No mess, no stress.
After a short drive, we arrived at the target location. But instead of parking right in front of the apartment, I had the drivers stop two houses down. No need to announce ourselves too early.
“Alright, listen up,” I said, stepping successfully unlocked and stretching my arms. “This has to be quick and clean. No dram,
id for the love of God, drop the
rifles. We’re not raiding a compound.”
They immediately followed my order. Without a word of complaint, they removed their
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rifles, placing them carefully back inside the vehicle. Then they popped open the trunk and each grabbed a stun gun instead. A much less aggressive approach–still effective, but not enough to make it look like we were waging war.
I watched them move with precision, like seasoned pros. Their eyes stayed sharp, scanning the surroundings with quiet vigilance as they advanced toward the apartment. I trailed behind them at a casual pace, hands in my pockets. Frankly, I didn‘ t see much need for me to carry a stun gun. I wasn’t expecting any real resistance.
We approached the apartment building, tension hanging just beneath the surface. The two guys took their positions at the door, their movements smooth and practiced. They shared a quick nod, confirming they were ready.
I stayed a few steps back, keeping my eyes on the street, just in case we had any. unexpected company. My mind briefly flicked to the target inside the apartment. He had no idea we were coming, and if we played this right, he’d never see it coming until it was too late.
The two guys raised their fists, ready to knock. Then one of them came with a lock pick and began picking the locks, the door to the opposite apartment opened up and an old lady was about to come out.
When she saw them her mouth dropped, her eyes wide with shock, but Ron took his index finger to his lip indicating for the woman not to make a sound.
heir tactical gear and probably thought they were cops, so she just went
slowly closed the door.
finally done with the lock and they opened the door and slowly went in, the ment smelled like smoke and was untidy, dresses and plates were everywhere in
the house.
How can someone leave like this? I thought to myself.
We could hear the shower running from inside the apartment, which meant the guy was still in there, probably thinking he was safe. I watched as the guys with me started giving each other silent hand signals, quick and sharp. They didn’t say a word, but they understood each other perfectly. I just stood back and let them do their thing.
One of them moved quietly to the bathroom door and took position right beside it, waiting for the guy to finish up. The other stayed by the hallway, covering any possible exit, besides, it felt like overkill with the way they handled things.
A few minutes passed, the sound of water still going, then it stopped. We heard him moving around, probably grabbing a towel. Right on cue, the door opened, and the guy stepped out, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, water still dripping from his hair.
“Don’t move,” Ron said firmly, pointing the stun gun straight at the guy’s chest.
The man froze, eyes wide, scanning all of us in the room. I could see the confusion on
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his face, like he was still half in the shower, trying to figure out if this was real or some kind of nightmare. His eyes darted from one person to the next, then back to Ron.
“Am I getting robbed?” he asked, his voice rough but steady.
I stepped forward. “No,” I said calmly. “You’re coming with us. There’s something we need from you.”
“Like what?” he shot back, narrowing his eyes.
I kept my voice even, not wanting to spook him more than necessary. “A few weeks ago, you were paid to do a job. You drove a car and deliberately hit a reporter on the street…”
Before I could even finish, his expression changed completely. He knew exactly what I was talking about. Without wasting a second, he snatched a T–shirt lying on a nearby chair and hurled it straight at the mercenary closest to him. It caught the guy off guard just long enough.
In an instant, the man bolted, sprinting past us like he’d been waiting for this moment. I won’t lie–I was shocked at how fast he moved, especially given his size. You’d think carrying that much weight would slow him down, but no, he was Real fast.
The team reacted quickly, though. They chased after him, and before he could reach the front door, one of them fired the stun gun. The prongs hit him square in the back, and he went down hard, convulsing as the electricity hit him. His towel slipped off in the process, and trust me, that was not something any of us wanted to see.
“Ah, come on, man…” I muttered, turning my head away.
The guys worked fast. They pulled out a plastic strap and tightened it around his wrists, securing him properly.
“You’re pretty fast for your size,” one of the mercenaries said, half impressed, half annoyed as he caught his breath.
“Someone get him some clothes, for god’s sake,” Ron added, shaking his head like he’d seen enough.
A couple of them stepped into the bedroom and came back with a random pair of shorts and a T–shirt. They got him dressed as he lay there on the floor, still twitching a little from the stun gun blast.
“Jeez, Jack, why’d you set the thing to high stun?” one of the guys asked, frowning as he looked at the poor guy still squirming.
Jack just shrugged. “Better safe than sorry. The way he ran, I wasn’t taking chances.”
I couldn’t argue with that. The guy had almost slipped past all of us. If he’d made it to
the street, this would’ve turned into a whole mess. Cops, bystanders, security cameras. -we didn’t need that kind of attention.
“It’s gonna be a real hussle taking this guy to the car.” Another said.
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CHAPTER D71
“Well we better start now,” Ron said and the four of them split up, one taking his right arm, the other taking his right leg, the third taking his left arm, and the last person. taking his left leg.
They lifted him and took him down to the car, now that we had him my investigators would do their best to get him to confess, I needed to let Olivia know about this good
news.
But i
unfortunately, she still wasn’t answering her calls.
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CHAPTER 072
