Chapter 5 - The Standoff|
The boardroom erupted into chaos.
Two of the younger capos jumped to their feet, their hands flying to the weapons concealed beneath their suit jackets.
“Sit down,” Damon ordered, his voice echoing off the wood-paneled walls.
They froze, looking at Damon, then slowly lowered themselves back into their chairs. Damon didn't take his eyes off Victor Lane.
“You think port access routes are worth your life, Victor?” Damon asked, slowly walking around the table until he was standing directly behind the older man's chair.
“My life is fine,” Victor replied, though a bead of sweat appeared on his temple. “I have men stationed outside the perimeter. The moment I don't walk out of here, a call is made. The woman dies, and the Sinaloa cartel hits this compound with everything they have. You’re outnumbered, Damon. Your father would have seen this coming.”
Damon placed his hands on the back of Victor’s chair.
“My father trusted you. That was his mistake. Mine was letting you live this long.”
Victor scoffed. “Sign the papers, Damon. You can always buy another maid.”
The casual cruelty in Victor’s voice snapped the last thread of Damon’s legendary restraint.
Damon moved faster than any man in the room could track. He grabbed Victor by the back of his collar, yanked him out of the chair, and slammed his face brutally into the polished mahogany table.
The sound of cartilage breaking cracked through the room.
Victor screamed, his hands flying to his bloody, broken nose. Damon didn't let him recover. He grabbed Victor’s silver hair, pulling his head back, and pressed the barrel of his 9mm directly against Victor’s temple.
“I'm not going to ask you again, Victor,” Damon whispered, his voice vibrating with lethal intent. “Where is she?”
The other men in the room sat completely paralyzed. They had seen Damon Reyes order executions, but they had rarely seen him enact violence with his own hands. He was usually too calculated, too refined for this kind of brutal display.
Victor sputtered, blood pouring down his chin and staining his expensive white shirt.
“Go to hell,” Victor choked out. “You kill me, she’s dead!”
“If you don't tell me,” Damon replied, thumbing back the hammer of the gun, “I won't just kill you. I will dismantle you. Piece by piece. In front of a mirror, so you can watch.”
Victor squeezed his eyes shut, trembling violently.
May you like
“The old copper mine,” Victor gasped out. “The abandoned one near Superior. My men took her there to wait for the Sinaloa drop.”
Damon hit Victor across the temple with the butt of his gun. Victor collapsed to the floor, unconscious.
