Ron Donaldo: Rise Of The Apex Don

Chapter 16

BEEP.

Ron dropped the phone. He looked at the red numbers. Four minutes to save his life. Four minutes to save his name. Four minutes to save the city. 

General Vance climbed into the truck. "My King, please. We must leave. You cannot fix this."

Ron looked at the massive metal box. He looked at the complicated wires. The Director was right. He could not defuse it. It was too complex. It was a perfect trap. 

But Ron Donaldo did not play by the rules of the trap. If you cannot stop the bomb from exploding, you must change where it explodes. 

Ron’s blue eyes locked onto General Vance. 

"General," Ron said loudly. His voice commanded total obedience. "Get your men to unload the lithium from the first two trucks. Put it in your black trucks and drive away."

"What about you, Sir?" General Vance asked, his good eye wide with fear. 

Ron jumped into the driver's seat of the third armored truck. He grabbed the heavy steering wheel. He turned the key. The massive diesel engine roared to life. 

"I am going for a drive," Ron said. 

Isabella ran to the window of the truck. "Ron, are you crazy? Where are you going?"

Ron looked at the digital map on the truck's dashboard. Two miles down Highway 9, there was an old, abandoned rock quarry. It was a massive, deep hole in the earth, completely surrounded by high granite walls. It was far away from the forest and the city. If the bomb exploded at the bottom of that deep hole, the solid rock walls would catch the fire and block the radiation. 

But he had to drive the heavy, slow truck two miles in three minutes. 

"I am going to put this bomb in a safe box," Ron said. 

BEEP.

03:30.

"Ron, you will die!" Isabella screamed. 

"I have died before," Ron said softly. 

He slammed his foot on the gas pedal. The heavy armored truck jerked forward. It smashed past the broken black SUVs. It accelerated down the dark, wet highway. 

Behind him, the Iron Legion watched in silent awe as their King drove away with a ticking nuclear bomb to save them all. 

Ron gripped the steering wheel perfectly tight. The truck was moving at fifty miles per hour. The rain hit the windshield so hard he could barely see. 

BEEP.

02:45.

In the back of the truck, the bomb bounced slightly. The red numbers flashed in the dark. 

Ron pushed the gas pedal all the way to the floor. Sixty miles per hour. Seventy miles per hour. 

The heavy truck was not built for speed. It began to shake violently. The steering wheel vibrated in his hands. 

"Hold together," Ron whispered to the machine. 

He saw a rusted metal sign on the side of the road ahead: OAKHAVEN QUARRY - CLOSED.

Next to the sign was a dirt road breaking off the highway, leading into the dark woods. 

Ron pulled the heavy steering wheel hard to the right. The huge truck slid on the wet asphalt, drifting dangerously, before the thick tires caught the soft mud of the dirt road. 

BEEP.

01:30.

Mud flew up onto the windshield. The wipers slapped back and forth rapidly. The truck bounced over deep holes and large rocks. Every time the truck bounced, Ron prayed the bomb’s anti-movement sensors would not trigger. 

He drove deeper into the dark. Finally, the trees broke open. 

He saw the quarry. It was a massive, black hole in the ground. It was hundreds of feet deep. At the bottom was a small pool of dirty rainwater. The walls were solid gray granite. 

The road ended at the top edge of the cliff. 

BEEP.

00:45.

Forty-five seconds left. 

Ron did not slow down. He aimed the massive armored truck directly at the edge of the deep cliff. 

He pressed the gas pedal to the floor one last time. 

The truck raced toward the drop. One hundred feet away. Fifty feet away. 

BEEP.

00:20.

When the truck was only twenty feet from the edge, Ron opened the heavy driver's door. The cold wind screamed into the cab. 

Ron jumped. 

He threw his body out of the speeding truck. He flew through the air and hit the hard, muddy ground. He rolled over and over, rocks and sticks cutting his expensive coat, bruising his ribs, tearing his skin. 

He stopped rolling near a large pile of gravel. He quickly crawled behind the heavy rocks, pressing his body flat against the mud, covering the back of his head with his hands. 

The heavy armored truck flew off the cliff. 

It hung in the air for a single second, falling gracefully into the deep, dark hole. 

BEEP.

00:05.

00:04.

00:03.

00:02.

00:01.

00:00.

From the bottom of the quarry, the earth cracked open. 

A flash of light, brighter than the sun, turned the dark night into pure, blinding white day. 

Then came the sound. It was not a normal explosion. It was a deep, terrible roar that shook the bones in Ron’s body. A massive pillar of red and orange fire shot straight up from the bottom of the quarry, trapped perfectly by the thick granite walls. 

The ground bounced violently. Rocks rained down from the sky. Thick, dark smoke pushed up into the rain. 

But the radiation and the worst of the blast were contained deep inside the rock bowl. The forest was safe. The city was safe. 

Ron lay in the mud. His ears were ringing loudly. Everything was silent except the ringing. 

Slowly, Ron pushed himself up on his hands and knees. He was bleeding from a cut on his forehead. His clothes were ruined. He looked down into the glowing, burning hole. 

He had beaten The Director’s trap. He had saved his name. And he still had the lithium. 

Ron reached into his pocket and pulled out his wet, heavy phone. It still worked. He dialed a number. 

"Silas," Ron said. His voice was tired, but it was alive. 

"Sir! Oh thank God, Sir! We saw the flash!" Silas yelled through the phone. "Are you okay?"

"I am fine," Ron said, wiping blood from his eyes. "Do you have the lithium?"

"Yes, Sir. Both trucks are completely unloaded. The Iron Legion is securing it now."

Ron looked at the burning fire at the bottom of the quarry. He felt the heat on his face. The Director thought he was playing a game with a bug. The Director was wrong. He was playing a game with a Warlord. 

"Good," Ron said. His voice turned hard, cold, and totally unforgiving. "Lock the lithium away. And tell General Vance to load the guns. The supply chain is broken. The trap has failed. Tomorrow... we attack the castle."