Chapter 10 - Breaking the Syndicate
The crisp night air exploded with the deafening crack of a warning shot as one of the guards tried to track Rex across the gravel yard. The Malinois was too fast, weaving fluidly between stacked pallets of timber before launching himself in a silent, terrifying arc that caught the second guard squarely in the chest, driving him backward into a rusted steel drum with bone-rattling force.
The guard’s assault rifle clattered uselessly onto the concrete.
I didn't give them time to recover. While Marcus was still gasping for breath across the hood of the SUV, I spun around, caught the barrel of the remaining guard's rifle with my left hand, and twisted it downward with a sharp, wrenching torque that dislocated his wrist. He cried out, dropping to his knees as I delivered a swift, decisive palm strike to the side of his helmet, putting him down for the count.
Total elapsed time: forty-five seconds.
I turned back toward Marcus, who was scrambling backward across the hood of the vehicle, his expensive suit jacket torn, his face pale with a terror he hadn't felt in decades. He reached frantically for his shoulder holster, his fingers fumbling with the leather strap.
I stepped forward, grabbed him by the lapels of his ruined suit, and hauled him upright until his face was inches from mine.
"The ledger is closed, Marcus," I whispered, the cold void in my skull radiating absolute authority. "And you're going to give me the decryption keys to every offshore account your syndicate operates before the local authorities arrive."
Before Marcus could stammer a reply, the distant wail of multiple police sirens echoed across the highway—not the local Oakhaven deputies, but state troopers accompanied by federal marshals, responding to an encrypted distress signal I had transmitted via my satellite burner five minutes before pulling into the mill.
The cavalry had finally arrived.
Marcus’s eyes darted toward the flashing red and blue lights bleeding through the fog at the end of the access road. He slumped forward in my grip, all the fight completely drained out of him.
"You can't touch me, Jack," he muttered, though his voice lacked any conviction. "I have immunity deals signed by—"
"You have a cell waiting for you at a federal penitentiary," I interrupted, tossing him unceremoniously onto the gravel at my feet as two state troopers and a federal marshal rushed into the yard with their badges drawn.
"Federal Marshal Vance!" the lead officer shouted, spotting me amidst the chaos. "Secure the perimeter! Take these men into custody!"
As the cuffs were slapped onto Marcus and his remaining operatives, I walked quickly over to Sarah, dropping to my knees and slicing through the heavy zip-ties binding her wrists with my tactical pocketknife. I peeled the duct tape carefully from her mouth, my hands steady despite the adrenaline still pumping through my veins.
"Are you okay?" I asked, my voice softening as I looked into her eyes.
Sarah threw her arms around my neck, burying her face in my shoulder as a sob finally broke through her composed exterior. "I told you... I told you we were done fighting, Jack," she whispered into my ear.
"We are, sweetheart," I replied, holding her tightly against me. "We truly are."
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Beside us, Rex trotted up, gave his coat one final shake, and sat down neatly at our feet, his tongue lolling out in a happy, exhausted grin.
The war was over. We were finally going home.
