Ron Donaldo: Rise Of The Apex Don

Chapter 12

The red laser dots burned brightly on Ron’s chest. The night was totally silent for one second. Death was watching them from the top of the rusted train cars.

But Ron Donaldo never walked into a trap without a way out. He picked the Old Iron Train Yard for a reason.

"Vance! Blind them!" Ron roared.

General Silas Vance did not hesitate. He pulled two small metal canisters from his heavy green coat and threw them hard at the ground.

BANG! BANG!

Huge clouds of thick, white smoke exploded into the air. The smoke was blinding. The red laser dots disappeared in the thick cloud.

"Fire!" the mercenary leader shouted from the train cars.

Hundreds of bullets rained down. They hit the wet concrete and the sides of the trucks like loud, angry metal bees.

"Cover the King!" General Vance yelled.

The forty ex-convicts did not run away. They raised their heavy guns and fired back into the dark. The noise was deafening. 

Bright yellow fire flashed from the barrels of their weapons. They shot at the tops of the train cars, forcing the snipers to hide.

Ron grabbed Isabella’s hand. He pulled her through the thick smoke. He knew exactly where to go. He ran to a flat, heavy iron plate on the ground between the train tracks.

Ron grabbed the rusted iron ring on the plate and pulled with all his massive strength. His muscles popped. The heavy iron plate lifted, revealing a dark, square hole in the ground.

"Jump!" Ron ordered Isabella.

She did not wait. She climbed down the metal ladder into the dark hole. Ron followed her. General Vance jumped in last, pulling the heavy iron plate shut right over their heads.

Clang.

The sound of the loud gunfire above them instantly became very quiet.

They were in a long, dark tunnel. It smelled like old dirt, wet stones, and rust. Water dripped slowly from the ceiling.

"Keep moving," Ron said. He pulled a small flashlight from his pocket. The white beam of light cut through the deep darkness.

They walked for ten minutes. Isabella’s expensive shoes were covered in mud. She was breathing hard. "Ron, where are we going?" she asked.

"Under the city," Ron answered. "The people above us think they own Oakhaven. But they forgot about the bones of the old city."

They stopped in front of a giant metal door. Ron pushed it open.

Suddenly, bright fluorescent lights buzzed on.

Isabella covered her eyes. When she opened them, she was amazed.

They were standing in an abandoned subway terminal. It was huge. The walls were covered in old, cracked white tiles. Vintage posters from thirty years ago still hung on the walls. Three empty, rusted train cars sat on the tracks.

But it was not empty.

In the center of the large terminal, there were five large folding tables. The tables were covered with glowing computer monitors, thick black wires, and digital maps. A large diesel generator hummed loudly in the corner, providing power to the room.

Silas, the nervous hacker from the warehouse, was typing very fast on a keyboard. Jax, the giant fighter with no tongue, stood quietly in the shadows. Vera, the elegant forger, was pouring a cup of hot coffee.

"Welcome to the War Room, Sir," Silas said, looking up from his screens. He pushed his glasses up his nose. "I moved all our equipment here while you were at the data center, exactly as you ordered."

Ron walked to the center table. He took off his wet jacket and threw it on a chair. He looked tired, but his blue eyes were sharp and awake.

General Vance stepped into the light. He looked at the computers and the maps. He slammed his huge fist on the table.

"We need to strike back now!" the General growled. His scarred face was red with anger. "Marcus Thorne tried to kill us! Give me the word, Apex. I will take my forty men. We will march right into the Sterling Tech building. We will shoot our way to the top floor and throw Marcus out the window!"

Isabella nodded quickly. "The General is right. My crime family can block the police from helping him. We can end this tonight with bullets."

Ron looked at the General. Then he looked at Isabella. His core struggle burned deeply in his heart. He wanted revenge. He wanted to feel Marcus’s neck break in his hands. But if he started a war in the streets, innocent people would die. The city would burn. He would become just like the corrupt men he was fighting.

"No," Ron said softly, but his voice was very firm. "I am not a butcher. I am an engineer. You do not destroy a machine by hitting it with a hammer. You destroy it by taking out a single, tiny gear."

Ron leaned over the table. He tapped the glowing digital map.

"Sterling Tech is a fortress," Ron explained. "They have hundreds of guards. If we attack the tower, people will die. Blood will fill the streets. The news will call us terrorists. We will lose the war."

"Then how do we kill a giant company?" General Vance asked, crossing his massive arms.

"We starve it," Ron said.

Ron tapped the keyboard. A new picture appeared on the big screen. It showed a shiny, blue piece of metal.

"This is lithium," Ron said. "The new Sterling Core engine needs a huge amount of pure lithium to work. Without it, the engines cannot be built. Without the engines, the investors will pull their money out. The stock will go to zero. The banks will take everything Marcus owns."

Isabella’s dark eyes widened. She slowly smiled. She finally understood his genius. "You want to attack his supply chain."

"Exactly," Ron said. "We do not attack the castle. We stop the food from getting to the castle."

He pointed to a map of the world on the screen. A small green dot was moving slowly across the blue ocean toward Oakhaven.

"This is the Sea Dragon," Ron said. "It is a massive cargo ship. It is carrying two hundred tons of raw lithium from South America. It is the biggest shipment of the year for Sterling Tech. It arrives at the city port at 3:00 AM tonight."

General Vance grinned. His gold tooth flashed in the light. "We sink the ship?"

"No. We steal it," Ron said. "We take the lithium. We hide it. Marcus wakes up tomorrow morning with no materials, angry investors, and a broken company."

"There is a problem, Sir," Silas the hacker said. His voice was shaking a little bit.

Silas typed a few buttons. A red warning sign flashed on the screen next to the ship.

"Marcus Thorne is scared," Silas explained. "He knows you are hunting him. He did not hire normal security for the ship. He hired Blackwater Shield. They are a private military company. There are thirty heavily armed soldiers on that boat. They have machine guns, body armor, and permission to shoot anyone who comes near."

General Vance laughed a deep, rough laugh. "Good. My boys were getting bored anyway."

Ron looked at the clock on the wall. It was 1:15 AM.

"Get your men ready, General," Ron ordered. "We hit the port in one hour. We take the ship fast and quiet."

"Yes, my King," the General saluted and turned to leave.

Suddenly, the computers in the War Room began to beep wildly.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

All the lights in the subway terminal flickered. The screens turned totally black.

"Silas! What is happening?" Ron asked sharply.

Silas’s fingers flew across the keyboard like lightning. Sweat dripped down his forehead. "Someone is hacking us! Someone from inside Sterling Tech! Their security walls are too strong... they are breaking through my firewalls!"

"Shut it down!" Isabella yelled. "Pull the plug!"

"Wait," Ron commanded. He watched the main screen.

The black screen suddenly filled with bright green text. It was a single, highly encrypted message. It was not from Marcus. It was not from the police.

The message typed out slowly on the screen:

[RON. THIS IS AN OLD FRIEND. THERESA KNOWS ABOUT THE SUBWAY TERMINAL. SHE TRACKED ISABELLA'S PHONE. THEY ARE NOT SENDING COPS. THEY ARE SENDING THE BOMBERS. YOU HAVE THREE MINUTES. RUN.]

Ron froze. He looked at Isabella. She slowly pulled her phone out of her pocket. A tiny, blinking red tracker app was running secretly on her screen. Someone had put a bug on her phone.

A loud, heavy sound echoed from the dark tunnel above them.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

It was the sound of a countdown timer.

Ron looked up at the ceiling. His blood ran cold.

"Run," Ron whispered.