Ron Donaldo: Rise Of The Apex Don

Chapter 38

Up on the balcony, The Director’s smile completely vanished. His eyes went wide. He dropped his crystal glass of champagne. It shattered loudly on the floor. 

How did they get in? The hotel was surrounded by the National Guard! 

"Guards!" The Director yelled into his radio earpiece. "Security! Get in here now!"

"Your security is sleeping, Director," a squeaky voice answered over the radio. It was Zero. "I hacked the electronic locks on the hotel doors. The Iron Legion put a sleeping gas in the guard room ventilation shafts twenty minutes ago. You are completely alone."

The Director cursed loudly. He turned to run toward the private elevator. 

But suddenly, the bright lights in the ballroom flickered and died. 

The room was plunged into total darkness for three seconds. The rich guests screamed in absolute panic. 

BZZZZT.

Every single massive television screen in the ballroom turned on at exactly the same time. The bright screens lit up the dark room with a harsh, cold white light. 

But the screens did not show a live video of Ron Donaldo. 

They showed a piece of paper. It was an old, wrinkled document. The words on the paper were clear and easy to read. 

It was the official court transcript from five years ago. It was the transcript of Ron Donaldo's sentencing. 

A deep, loud voice began to read the words on the screen through the massive speakers in the ballroom. It was an automated, digital voice, but it was incredibly loud and powerful. 

"The Defendant, Ronald Donaldo, is found guilty of massive corporate fraud. He is sentenced to five years in the maximum-security prison known as The Pit." 

The rich guests stared at the screens in horror. 

"The Defendant claims he is innocent. He claims his wife, Theresa Sterling, stole his blueprints and his money. The court finds this claim to be a complete lie. The court orders the immediate transfer of all patents and bank accounts to Mrs. Theresa Sterling and her partner, Mr. Marcus Thorne."

The text on the screens slowly scrolled down to the bottom of the page. 

It stopped on the final signature. 

The signature belonged to the judge who was standing right there in the ballroom. The judge who had taken a million-dollar bribe from Marcus Thorne to put an innocent man in a cage. 

"Turn it off!" the judge screamed, covering his face with his hands. "It is a lie!"

The screens flashed again. A new document appeared. 

It was a bank record. It clearly showed a massive transfer of one million dollars from a secret Sterling Tech account directly into the personal bank account of the judge, on the exact same day Ron was sentenced. 

The screens flashed again. 

Another bank record. Two million dollars paid to the Police Chief, signed by The Director. 

The screens flashed faster and faster. Dozens of secret documents, emails, and bank transfers appeared for everyone to see. 

The Iron Legion had hacked the catering system to serve the prison food, but Silas had hacked the hotel’s presentation system to broadcast the absolute truth. 

The rich, powerful people in the room were looking at their own crimes. They were looking at the proof that they had destroyed an innocent man’s life just for money. 

Up on the balcony, The Director realized the terrible genius of Ron’s plan. 

Ron was not trying to fight the National Guard tanks outside. He was fighting a war of information. The Director had called Ron a terrorist on the national news. But now, in a room full of powerful witnesses, Ron was proving that the real terrorists were the politicians and the judges. 

The Director ran to the private elevator. He pressed the button wildly. 

The elevator doors opened. 

Standing inside the elevator was Jax. The silent, giant fighter. He held a massive, heavy iron pipe in his hand. 

The Director stumbled backward in terror. 

Jax stepped out of the elevator. He did not say a word. He swung the heavy iron pipe with devastating speed. 

CRACK. 

The iron pipe hit The Director directly in the knee. The sound of breaking bone was sickening. 

The Director screamed in absolute agony and fell to the floor. He grabbed his broken leg, crying out in pain. The powerful, terrifying man who pulled the strings of the city was now just a broken old man crying on a carpet. 

Down in the ballroom, the massive screens went black. 

The normal lights slowly turned back on. 

The Mayor, the Police Chief, and the corrupt judge were sweating heavily. They looked at the Iron Legion waiters, waiting to be shot or beaten. 

But General Vance simply smiled a cruel, scarred smile. 

"The meal is over," General Vance said loudly. "Enjoy the rest of your evening, ladies and gentlemen."

The Iron Legion soldiers turned around and walked calmly out of the ballroom doors. They did not run. They moved with perfect discipline. They disappeared into the dark hallways of the hotel, melting away like ghosts. 

The Mayor ran to the window. He looked down at the street. 

The National Guard tanks were still there. The soldiers were still standing guard. The military had completely surrounded the hotel, but the Iron Legion had slipped right through their fingers. 

Suddenly, the heavy doors of the ballroom burst open again. 

This time, it was not waiters. 

It was a team of fifty heavily armed FBI agents. They wore blue windbreakers with large yellow letters on the back. They rushed into the room, raising their weapons.