All Chapters of MICHAEL SULLIVAN: NEW DYNASTY : Chapter 61
- Chapter 70
151 chapters
— 61 —
Michael woke to the taste of copper in his mouth and the sound of water dripping somewhere in the darkness. His head throbbed, and when he tried to move, he discovered his hands were tied behind his back. The rough rope bit into his wrists. "He's awake," a voice said. Michael's vision slowly cleared, revealing a warehouse. Industrial lights hung from the ceiling, casting harsh shadows across concrete floors and metal support beams. The air smelled of oil and rust. Brother North stepped into the light, but he was nothing like the jovial guy Michael had met before. His smile was gone, replaced by cold fury. His clothes were different too, more professional, like he was dressing for serious business. "You've got some balls, I'll give you that..how long did you think you could get away with pretending to be someone you're not," North said. "I don't know what you mean," Michael said, his voice hoarse. "Sure you don't," North said, then stepped aside. Another man moved into th
— 62 —
Michael's throat felt like sandpaper as Brother North settled into the rusted metal chair across from him, the screech of metal against concrete echoing through the warehouse. "You know what the funny thing is?" North said, his voice carrying that unsettling conversational tone that made Michael's skin crawl. "I actually started to like you. The Consigliere with the quick mouth and wits." He leaned forward, studying Michael's face. "You remind me of an old friend of mine, young and too smart for his own good." "What happened to your friend?" Michael asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer. North's expression darkened. "He got shot trying to negotiate with people who don't negotiate. That's the problem with smart guys like you—you think everything can be solved with words." "Sometimes it can," Michael said carefully. "Sometimes," North agreed. "But sometimes, people just need to understand that actions have consequences." He stood up and began pacing, his energy building. "Do
— 63 —
The abandoned restaurant felt like a tomb. Michael followed Salvatore Russo and Brother North inside, his heart hammering against his ribs as Esteban Martinez's eyes tracked his every movement."Please, sit," Martinez said, gesturing to a round table.Michael sat across from Martinez, painfully aware of how the man's gaze never left his face. Alexis took the chair beside him, her posture straight and perfect despite the situation. North and Russo flanked them, while Martinez's men positioned themselves near the exits."So," Martinez said, his voice calm as he settled into his chair, "here we are again. Except this time, I know exactly who you are." His eyes burned with fury. "Michael Sullivan. The man who sat across from me weeks ago, shook my hand, and lied to my face."Michael's throat felt dry. "Mr. Martinez, I can explain—""Explain?" Martinez's voice rose slightly before he caught himself. "You looked me in the eye and told me you were Salvatore Russo. You negotiated a deal under
— 64 —
Michael's legs felt like jelly as he and Alexis walked out of the abandoned restaurant. The cool evening air hit his face, and he realized he'd been holding his breath for what felt like hours. Behind them, the sound of chairs scraping and voices faded into the distance. "Jesus Christ," Michael muttered, running a hand through his hair. "I can't believe that actually worked." Alexis walked beside him, her heels clicking against the cracked pavement. She kept glancing back at the restaurant, as if expecting armed men to come running after them. "Your hands are shaking," she said, noticing his trembling fingers as he tried to light a cigarette. "Yeah, well, I just negotiated with two gang leaders who could have killed us both," Michael said. "I'm allowed to shake a little." They walked in silence for a few blocks, both processing what had just happened. The street lamps cast long shadows, and every sound made Michael's head snap around. A car door slamming. A dog barking. The dis
— 65 —
The cafe exactly as Zara had described: good coffee and terrible Wi-Fi. Michael and Alexis arrived at ten sharp to find Zara already there, hunched over a laptop with three empty coffee cups beside her."How long have you been here?" Michael asked, sliding into the booth across from her."Since six," Zara said without looking up. "I couldn't sleep. Too much information bouncing around in my head." She finally raised her eyes, and Michael was surprised to see how tired she looked. Dark circles under her eyes, hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, the kind of exhaustion that came from obsessing over something for too long."Jesus, Zara. When's the last time you had some rest?""Rest is overrated," she said, closing the laptop. "Besides, what I found is worth losing sleep over. Coffee?""Please," Alexis said, settling in beside Michael. "And maybe some food. I'm starving."Zara waved the waitress over, and they ordered coffee and breakfast. Once they were alone again, Zara leaned forward
— 66 —
The coordinated attack launched at exactly 3:47 PM on a Tuesday afternoon. Michael watched from his laptop as the first domino fell."Article is live," Zara announced, her fingers flying across her keyboard. "Four major companies just posted it on their platforms." "Evidence has been deployed across all major platforms. The bot farm markers are now visible to any analyst who knows where to look," Ava reported.Michael refreshed his browser and watched the chaos unfold. The headline blazed across the screen: "SOCIAL MEDIA EMPIRE BUILT ON LIES: Inside the Medici Twins' Massive Bot Farm Operation.""Holy shit," he breathed, scrolling through the article. "Zara, this is devastating.""That's the point. I've been investigating Victoria for months so we're just lucky she was using the twins to do her dirty work. Let's finish with the twins, and then Victoria is next. This is just the beginning," she replied, not looking up from her screen. The article laid out everything in meticulous
— 67 —
Glass shards filled the air like deadly confetti as black-clad figures jumped in through the shattered windows. Michael threw himself to the floor, pulling Alexis down with him as automatic weapons swept the room. Zara screamed, scrambling behind the overturned couch."Stay down!" Michael shouted, but his voice was lost in the chaos.Smoke grenades detonated, filling the suite with thick, choking fog. Through the haze, Michael could see the red dots of laser sights dancing across the walls. Heavy boots thundered against the floor as the operatives secured the room."Clear left!""Clear right!""Target acquired!"Michael's heart pounded as he tried to keep track of Alexis and Zara in the smoke. Where was Ava? He couldn't see her anywhere."Mr. Sullivan." The voice cut through the noise like a blade. Cold, authoritative, familiar. "Stand up slowly. Hands where I can see them."Wagner stepped through the smoke. Behind him, more operatives filed in, their weapons trained on the group."Le
— 68 —
The safe house smelled like stale coffee and desperation. Michael sat hunched on the couch, staring at his untouched sandwich while the television droned in the background. Three days had passed since their escape from the hotel, and he hadn’t slept more than two hours at a stretch.“You need to eat something. Starving yourself won’t bring her back,” Alexis said from the kitchen. Michael didn’t respond. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Ava’s face as she collapsed, her systems failing after the final EMP pulse. Suddenly a notification popped up on his phone. His eyes widened as he recognized it: the message was from the same unknown number that had contacted him weeks ago about fixing Ava, the one that had vanished after the warehouse incident. Michael’s chest tightened as he read:"How the hell did you leave her behind with Wagner? You just ABANDONED her."“Son of a witch,” he muttered, grabbing the phone and dialing the number with trembling fingers.It rang three times. Then
— 69 —
The knock on the safe house door came at exactly three in the afternoon. Michael looked up from the punching bag Alexis had installed in the corner. It was a cheap inflatable thing that barely stayed upright when he hit it. He slowly wiped sweat from his forehead."Expecting someone?" Zara asked, not looking up from her laptop where she'd been tracking news coverage."No," Michael said, grabbing a towel. "And that's what worries me."Alexis peered through the peephole, then broke into a grin. "Well, I'll be damned." She unlocked the door to reveal Professor Nakamura in his signature Hawaiian shirt, this one featuring cartoon pineapples, and Lizzy Medici."Professor?" Michael said, surprised. "How did you—""Find you? Please." Nakamura shuffled inside, carrying a worn leather messenger bag. "I helped design half the surveillance systems in this city. The other half I know how to hack."Lizzy entered behind him, her usually perfect makeup streaked and her designer clothes wrinkled. She
— 70 —
The "training area" was a cleared section of warehouse floor with some old gym equipment that looked like it had seen better years. A heavy bag hung from a chain that creaked loudly, and there were free weights scattered around that were covered in rust and what Michael hoped was just old sweat."Strip down to your t-shirt," North commanded, pulling off his own jacket to reveal arms that looked like tree trunks. "And those fancy shoes have got to go. You're gonna need to feel the ground."Michael complied, suddenly feeling very exposedg took of his jacket and shoes."First lesson," North said, moving to the center of the area. "Fighting isn't about being angry. Anger makes you stupid. Fighting is about being calm while doing violence.""That sounds like a contradiction," Michael said."Everything about fighting is a contradiction. You stay relaxed while being aggressive. You defend by attacking. You win by accepting you might lose." North gestured for Michael to join him. "Put your ha