Ron Donaldo: Rise Of The Apex Don

Chapter 11 (Part A)

The Old Iron Train Yard was a graveyard for broken machines. Giant, rusted train cars sat on dead tracks. The city of Oakhaven had forgotten this place a long time ago. Tall weeds grew through the cracked concrete. The midnight fog was thick, cold, and gray.

Ron Donaldo stood in the middle of the yard. His clothes were still wet from the harbor. He did not shiver. He stood perfectly still, like a statue carved from ice. He held the silver hard drive in his left hand.

Isabella wrapped her arms around herself. She was freezing. Her teeth clicked together. She looked at Ron with a mix of awe and deep fear.

"Ron," she whispered. The wind carried her voice away. "Who did you call? We should go to my safe house. We need to hide."

"We are done hiding, Isabella," Ron said softly. He did not look at her. He looked straight into the thick fog.

Ron fought a war inside his own mind. His core struggle burned hot in his chest. Five years ago, he was a good man. He was a builder. He believed in the law. He believed in justice. But the law had locked him in a dark cage. The law was a lie bought by rich men.

If he gave the hard drive to the FBI, the Mayor would just buy the judges. Nothing would change. Good men die while bad men drink champagne. 

Ron knew the truth now. To kill a monster, you cannot be a good man. You must become a bigger, darker monster. He did not want to be a Warlord. But the city left him no choice.

Suddenly, the ground began to shake.

Tiny rocks jumped on the concrete. Puddles of dirty rainwater started to ripple. A low, deep rumble echoed through the train yard. It sounded like a massive earthquake was coming.

Two bright, white headlights cut through the gray fog. Then two more. Then two more.

Six massive transport trucks rolled out of the dark. They were painted completely black. There were no license plates. There were no logos. They looked like giant metal beasts. The heavy tires crushed the rusted train tracks as they moved.

The six trucks formed a half-circle around Ron and Isabella. The loud engines purred like angry lions.

Hsssss.

The air brakes released. The engines turned off. For a moment, the train yard was completely silent again.

The door of the first truck opened. Heavy black combat boots stepped down onto the wet concrete.

A huge man walked forward. He was taller than Ron. His shoulders were as wide as a door. He wore a dark green military coat. There was a silver star pinned to his collar. His face was a map of deep scars. His left eye was covered by a black patch, but his right eye burned with a fierce, cold light.

This was General Silas Vance.

Once, he was a famous four-star general. He led real armies in real wars. But he found out the government was selling weapons to enemies. 

When he tried to report it, they destroyed his life. They called him a traitor. They stripped him of his medals and threw him into The Pit.

In prison, they sent three assassins to his cell with poisoned knives. They wanted to silence him forever. But Ron was in the cell next door. 

Ron broke the steel bars of his own cell, stepped into the dark, and snapped the necks of all three assassins in ten seconds. 

Ron saved the General’s life. Since that night, General Vance did not serve the government. He served the Apex.

The General stopped three feet away from Ron. He stood perfectly straight. He raised his right hand and gave a sharp, perfect military salute.

"My King," General Vance said. His voice was rough, like heavy boots walking on broken glass. "The Heavy Armor is here."

Ron nodded once. "It is good to see you, General."

General Vance turned his head and looked at the six black trucks. He raised his massive hand and snapped his fingers. It was a loud, sharp crack.

Instantly, the heavy back doors of all six trucks slammed open.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

Men began to jump out of the trucks. They did not yell. They did not run wildly. They moved with terrifying, silent discipline.

Forty men stepped into the light.

Isabella stopped breathing. She took a step back, hiding behind Ron. She commanded the biggest crime family in the city. She knew killers. She knew bad men. But these men were different.

They were all ex-convicts. They were the worst monsters from Sector 4 of The Pit. They were bank robbers, cartel enforcers, and disgraced special forces soldiers. They wore thick, black tactical armor. They carried heavy, military-grade assault rifles. They held big combat shotguns and sniper rifles.

They stood in five perfect lines. Their faces were hard, scarred, and completely empty of fear. They did not look like a gang. They looked like a private death squad.

"Forty of the best, Sir," General Vance said. He looked proudly at his men. "Every single man here owes you his life. Every single man here will die for you tonight. Just point the way."