Ron Donaldo: Rise Of The Apex Don

Chapter 11 (Part B)

Ron walked slowly past the lines of men. He looked into their eyes. He saw loyalty. He saw a hunger for violence. He felt the heavy iron toll of his choices. He was fully the Warlord now.

"We are not here to die," Ron said loudly. His voice echoed off the rusted train cars. "We are here to take back what was stolen from us. The people who put us in cages are sleeping in warm beds. Tonight, we wake them up."

The forty men did not cheer. They just gripped their heavy guns tighter. The silence was louder than a scream.

"General," Ron said, turning back. "The Mayor and Marcus Thorne control the city because they control the police. We need to cut off their sword."

A cruel, dark smile appeared on General Vance’s scarred face. "I am glad you said that, Sir. Because we brought you a present."

The General waved his hand at the last truck.

Two massive convicts dragged a man out of the back of the truck. The man’s hands were tied behind his back with thick plastic zip-ties. He wore a very expensive suit, but it was torn and covered in dirt. He was crying and shaking violently.

They threw the man onto the hard concrete at Ron’s feet.

Isabella gasped. She knew that face.

It was Police Chief Vance. The most powerful cop in Oakhaven. The man who had taken Marcus Thorne's dirty money to frame Ron five years ago.

"We caught him at the private airport," General Vance said. He spat on the ground near the Chief's head. "He was trying to fly to a private island with a bag full of diamonds. He heard the Titan Data Center exploded. He knew you were coming for him."

The Police Chief looked up. His face was covered in tears and snot. He looked at Ron, and then he looked at the giant General.

"Silas... please," the Police Chief begged, crying loudly. "I am your brother! Please, do not let them kill me! We share the same blood!"

It was a shocking twist of fate. The corrupt Police Chief and the disgraced General were brothers.

General Silas Vance looked down at his crying brother. His remaining eye was totally empty of love. "You sold my honor to the Mayor, little brother," the General whispered. "You framed me. You put me in The Pit to protect your rich friends. You are no brother of mine."

Ron stepped forward. He looked down at the pathetic, crying man who had destroyed his life. He felt a powerful urge to kick the man in the face. To break his teeth. To make him bleed.

But Ron took a deep breath. He had to be smarter than his anger.

Ron crouched down. He looked directly into the Police Chief’s terrified eyes.

"You are going to do exactly what I tell you, Chief," Ron said softly. "You are going to call the Mayor. You are going to tell him the city is safe. You are going to call off all the SWAT teams."

"And... and if I do?" the Chief choked, spitting dirt from his mouth. "Will you let me go?"

Ron smiled. It was a terrifying, cold smile. "If you do it, I will let you live in a cage for the rest of your life. Just like you did to me."

The Chief began to cry harder, but he nodded his head fast. "Okay! Okay, I will do it! I will call him!"

Ron stood up. He looked at the General. "Get him a phone. We move in five minutes."

Everything was going perfectly. The trap was set. The army was ready. The city was about to fall into his hands.

Suddenly, a tiny, bright red light appeared in the dark. It was a laser dot. It moved quickly across the rusted train car. It moved across the wet concrete.

Then, the red dot stopped. It rested directly over the center of Isabella’s heart.

Ron’s eyes went wide. He knew exactly what that red dot meant. "Sniper!" Ron roared, pushing Isabella hard to the ground.

CRACK!

A high-powered bullet tore through the air where Isabella’s chest had just been. It hit the concrete, exploding into sharp pieces of stone.

Before anyone could move, three more red laser dots appeared on Ron’s chest.

From the top of the rusted train cars around them, dark shadows stood up. They were wearing high-tech night-vision goggles. There were dozens of them.

They were not police. They were elite mercenaries.

A loud, electronic voice boomed from a hidden speaker in the train yard.

"Drop your weapons, Apex," the voice echoed in the dark. "You are totally surrounded. Did you really think Marcus Thorne only hired one team of assassins?"

Ron lay on the ground next to Isabella. He looked up at his forty men. They had raised their guns, but they were trapped in the open.