Ron Donaldo: Rise Of The Apex Don

Chapter 30

Ron pressed a button on the black remote control. 

Instantly, the terrible, high-frequency pressure stopped. 

The invisible weight lifted from the room. 

The silence that followed was shocking. The only sounds were the heavy rain on the roof and the loud, painful groans of the twenty mercenaries trying to breathe. 

Ron reached up and pulled the heavy headphones off his ears. He let them rest around his neck. 

Cross gasped for air. He blinked his eyes, trying to focus on Ron’s face. The room was still spinning a little bit, but Cross could finally speak. 

"You... you bastard," Cross choked out. His voice was weak and shaky. He tried to lift his hand, but his muscles were still like jelly. "You did not fight us... you cheated."

Ron smiled a cold, flat smile. He crouched down next to Cross. 

"I am not a gladiator, Cross," Ron said softly. "I do not fight for honor in an arena. I fight to win. If you wanted a fair fight, you should not have broken into my house."

Ron reached out. His strong hand moved quickly. He reached into the tactical pocket on Cross’s chest vest. 

Ron pulled out Cross’s highly secure, military-grade smartphone. 

Cross’s eyes widened. "No... do not touch that."

Ron ignored him. He stood up. He walked slowly around the room, stepping over the groaning bodies. He went to the four other squad leaders. He reached into their pockets. He took their phones, too. He collected five highly encrypted phones in total. 

He walked back to Cross. 

"You think you are so smart," Cross spat blood onto the floor. "But those phones are useless to you, Apex. They are locked with twenty-four-bit encryption. You cannot hack them. You cannot see our messages."

"I know," Ron said calmly. "I do not want your messages, Cross. I do not care who you texted yesterday."

Ron looked at the black phone in his hand. 

"Vane is a very careful man," Ron explained, his voice echoing in the quiet warehouse. "He does not use regular cell towers. He uses his own private, encrypted server to talk to you. The only way to find Vane’s server is to physically possess a device that is already connected to it."

Cross’s face went pale. The blood drained from his cheeks. He suddenly realized what the trap was really for. 

Ron did not care about beating the mercenaries. Ron did not care about the guns. Ron built the trap specifically to capture their phones intact. 

Ron reached into his pocket and pulled out his own device. He attached a small, thick cable from Cross’s phone directly to his own. 

"My hacker, Silas, has been waiting for this connection," Ron said. He tapped a button on his screen. "Silas is very good at his job. He is tracing the signal right now. He is following the invisible wire from this phone, all the way back to Vane’s laptop."

"No," Cross whispered in horror. 

Ron looked at his screen. A small green map appeared. A blinking red dot showed up on the map. It was a location in the wealthy hills on the west side of the city. 

"Found him," Ron said softly. 

Ron disconnected the cable. He held Cross’s phone up to his ear and pressed the red callback button. 

Ring. Ring. 

Inside a beautiful, heavily guarded mansion in the west hills, Vane was sitting at his glass desk. Theresa Sterling was pacing nervously behind him. 

Vane’s laptop beeped. It was a call from Cross. 

Vane let out a rare, small sigh of relief. He answered the call. 

"Cross," Vane said in his boring voice. "Report. Is the Apex dead? Do you have the lithium?"

"Cross is currently lying in a puddle of his own vomit, Vane," Ron Donaldo’s deep voice answered through the speaker. 

Vane froze completely. His hand tightened on the laptop. 

Theresa stopped pacing. She let out a soft scream and covered her mouth. 

"Ron," Vane said. He tried to keep his voice flat, but there was a tiny crack of fear in it. "You captured my men. Very impressive."

"I did not just capture your men," Ron said. His voice was dark and heavy, like a coming storm. "I used their connection. I am looking at your exact location on a map right now, Vane. You are hiding in the Crestview Mansion. 704 Ridge Road."

Vane’s eyes darted toward the window. 

"You think you are a ghost, Vane," Ron said softly. "You think you can play chess with me in the dark. But you made a mistake. You invited the Warlord to play."

"You cannot get to me," Vane said quickly, pulling a silver pistol from his desk drawer. "This mansion has steel reinforced doors. It has bulletproof glass. By the time you drive here, I will be gone."

Ron let out a low, terrifying laugh. 

"I am not driving there, Vane," Ron said. "I am already here."

Vane dropped the phone. He stood up fast and ran to the massive glass window of the mansion. He looked out into the dark, blacked-out street. 

Suddenly, the streetlights outside the mansion did not turn on, but dozens of bright, blinding white headlights clicked on all at once. 

Six massive black transport trucks were parked completely around the mansion. They completely blocked the road. They blocked the driveway. 

The heavy doors of the trucks slammed open. 

Forty men from the Iron Legion poured out into the night. They wore their black armor. They carried heavy shotguns and assault rifles. They surrounded the mansion in a perfect circle of death. 

Standing in front of the trucks was the giant, scarred General Silas Vance. He raised his heavy sniper rifle and aimed it directly at the window where Vane was standing. 

Vane stepped back from the glass. His heart hammered in his chest. The expert in counter-insurgency had been totally outplayed. Ron had sent his army to the mansion while he dealt with the mercenaries at the warehouse. 

On the phone, Ron’s voice echoed in the quiet room. 

"Look out the window, Vane," Ron whispered. "The Night of the Long Knives is not over. It is just beginning. Open the front door in thirty seconds, or my men will tear the house down with you and my wife inside it."

Click. 

The phone went dead.