Chapter 6 - Preparing for War|
Damon looked at the unconscious man bleeding onto the expensive Persian rug.
“Bind him,” Damon ordered the terrified men remaining at the table. “If he wakes up and tries to move, break his legs. If he escapes, I will hold every single one of you personally responsible.”
He didn't wait for their frantic nods of agreement. He turned on his heel and walked out of the boardroom.
He moved quickly through the corridors of the estate, heading straight for the armory located beneath the security wing. When he pushed the heavy steel door open, Marcus was already there, pulling tactical vests and assault rifles from the reinforced lockers.
“I monitored the boardroom audio,” Marcus said gruffly, tossing a Kevlar vest onto the metal table. “We’re hitting the Superior copper mine.”
“I’m hitting it,” Damon corrected, shrugging off his suit jacket and pulling the heavy tactical vest over his dress shirt. “You are staying here. I need the estate locked down completely. Nobody gets to Ruby.”
Marcus stopped loading a magazine, looking at his boss with a frown.
“Damon, you can't go in alone. Victor’s guys will be heavily armed, and if the Sinaloa boys are already there for the handover, it’s a suicide mission.”
“I’m not going alone,” Damon replied, sliding two extra magazines into his vest pouches. “I’m taking the shadow team.”
Marcus’s eyes widened. The shadow team was a myth to most of the cartel—a six-man unit of highly trained, completely off-the-books ex-military operators that Damon kept on a private retainer for extreme emergencies. They answered only to him.
“They’re already en route,” Damon continued, checking the action on his primary rifle. “They’ll meet me at the rally point two miles from the mine.”
“What about the girl?” Marcus asked quietly.
Damon paused. He looked down at his hands, realizing they were shaking slightly. Not from fear for his own life, but from the terrifying thought of Selena tied to a chair in a dark, dusty mine, surrounded by monsters.
“Ruby is in the safe room,” Damon said. “Your wife is with her. Keep her distracted. Tell her... tell her I went to get Mommy.”
Marcus nodded, his expression grim. “We’ll hold the fort, boss. Bring her home.”
Damon grabbed his rifle and walked out to the underground garage. He bypassed the luxury sedans and climbed into a matte-black, heavily armored SUV.
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As the garage doors rolled open, revealing the harsh glare of the Arizona afternoon, Damon stepped on the gas. He had spent his life building an empire of fear and respect.
Today, he was going to burn it all down for a maid and her three-year-old daughter.
