THE BRUTAL REVENGE

Chapter 3: The Reckoning beginning

The hallways of the college were eerily silent, the kind of quiet that carried tension rather than peace. Jones stood near the entrance, his back against the cold wall, eyes scanning the dark corridor. Every shadow felt like a threat, every sound a warning. It had been days since the first confrontation, and the war was reaching its breaking point.

Trust was a fragile thing. Jones had learned that the hard way. The past few days had only confirmed his suspicion—alliances could shatter in an instant, and enemies were never as far away as they seemed.

A voice echoed down the hallway.

"Jones, you here?"

Lisa.

Jones pushed himself off the wall as she jogged toward him, her expression tight with urgency.

"We’ve got a problem," she said, slightly breathless. "Clinton’s making moves. He’s trying to rally the other groups, and he’s got some of the higher-ups in his pocket. He’s calling a meeting tomorrow, this is bad."

Jones clenched his jaw. Of course, Clinton was ahead, twisting the game in his favor.

"What’s the plan?" Jones asked, his voice calm but edged with steel.

Lisa hesitated, glancing over her shoulder as if expecting someone to be listening. "We need to act fast. If we wait too long, he’ll have all the power he needs to crush us. We need to get to the meeting first—before he locks them all in."

Jones’ mind raced. Every move was a gamble now. Clinton wasn’t just playing for control anymore; he was setting the board for a complete takeover. If Jones didn’t act now, everything would burn. But rushing in blind was suicide.

"We go in," Jones decided. "But we do it smart. He can’t see us coming. Get the others together." His voice was steady, but his eyes burned with determination. "We strike at dawn."

Lisa nodded. "I’ll rally the crew. We’ve got your back, Jones."

As she turned to leave, Jones stayed still, his mind already playing out every possible scenario. This wasn’t just another fight. This was the war. Clinton wouldn’t stop until everything Jones had fought for was under his control or destroyed completely.

The morning was unnaturally still. The sun barely peeked over the horizon, leaving a dim glow stretching over the campus. It was the kind of silence that only came before chaos.

Jones stood outside the meeting room, his crew hidden in the shadows, waiting for his signal. He had studied Clinton for years, learning how his enemy operated. Clinton’s greatest weapon wasn’t brute force—it was control. He could manipulate people into believing he was their only salvation.

But Jones wasn’t fooled.

"Everyone in position?" he whispered into his earpiece.

"All set," came the quiet reply. "Waiting on you."

Jones exhaled. "Let’s remind Clinton who’s really in charge."

With that, he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The room was packed. Clinton sat at the head of a long table, his most loyal followers surrounding him. His smirk was immediate, arrogance practically rolling off him.

"I was wondering when you’d show up," Clinton mused, voice thick with amusement. "Did you think hiding in the shadows would save you?"

Jones didn’t flinch. "I don’t hide. I act."

Clinton laughed, leaning back. "Still talking big, huh? But it’s over, Jones. You’re outnumbered. You’re outplayed. And you’re out of time."

Tension filled the air, thick and suffocating.

"I didn’t come to talk," Jones said. "I came to end this."

For a second, Clinton’s smirk faltered, but he quickly masked it. "You think you can just walk in here and take me down?" He gestured to the room. "You’re alone, Jones."

Jones arched a brow. "Is that what you think?"

A noise behind Clinton. His expression shifted. His eyes darted toward the entrance just as Jones’ crew slipped inside, sealing every exit.

"Surrounded, huh?" Jones said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Guess you’re not so untouchable after all."

For the first time, Clinton’s confidence wavered. His fingers tapped against the table.

"You think you’ve won?" he murmured, his tone shifting to something darker. "You’ve been playing checkers, Jones. I’ve been playing chess."

Jones narrowed his eyes. "Then it’s time to knock over your board."

Clinton smirked—but something was off. Something wasn’t right.

Then, before Jones could react, Clinton moved.

His hand darted under the table.

The lights flickered out.

Chaos erupted.

Shouts. Crashes. The sound of fists meeting flesh. Jones lunged forward, but Clinton had already vanished into the confusion.

"Clinton’s slipping out!" Lisa’s voice rang through the chaos.

"Don’t let him get away!" Jones shouted, pushing through the scrambling figures.

He burst through the door just in time to see Clinton disappearing down the hallway.

Jones took off after him.

The chase was relentless, Clinton was fast, but Jones was faster. They weaved through corridors, past empty classrooms, lockers flashing past in a blur. Clinton reached the exit first, kicking the door open. Jones followed, the cold morning air hitting his face as they emerged into the courtyard.

Clinton was halfway across the open space, sprinting toward the parking lot. Jones pushed harder.

Then...a sharp crack.

Gunfire.

Jones dove behind a concrete pillar as the bullet whizzed past. He hadn’t even seen where it came from.

Clinton turned his head, grinning. He had backup.

Jones cursed. Damn it.

Lisa and the others stormed out, weapons drawn. More gunfire echoed through the courtyard. Clinton’s men were positioned on the rooftops. Snipers.

"Take cover!" Jones shouted.

His crew scrambled for protection. The entire college was turning into a battlefield.

Clinton was still running. But he wasn’t escaping.

He was leading them into a trap.

Jones realized it too late.

The explosion tore through the air.

The ground shook. Flames erupted near the entrance, knocking Jones backward. The heat was intense, smoke thick and suffocating.

Jones pushed himself up, coughing. Clinton was nowhere to be seen.

Lisa staggered beside him, her face streaked with soot. "Jones, what the hell was that?!"

Jones clenched his fists. "Clinton’s not running," he said darkly. "He’s escalating."

Lisa’s eyes widened. "He’s planning something bigger."

Jones wiped blood from his lip. "This was never about winning a battle. He wants to burn everything down."

The distant sound of sirens filled the air.

Jones exhaled sharply.

This wasn’t over.

It was just beginning.