Chapter Seventeen
Rex
Nine forty-five PM... G-Force Covert Task Force, Avionics warehouse...
“It’s time,” Camden said as his watch beeped.
“Is the boat ready?” Max asked and chucked down the last of his drink.
“It’s prepped and waiting at the marina,” Camden confirmed. “Low profile, all black, perfect for a night operation.”
“Well, what are we waiting for?” Axel checked his gear and led the way out to the Humvee. The trip to the marina was done in silence while each man contemplated the safety of their loved ones.
Once settled on the sleek boat, Camden steered it out of the marina.
The hull cut through Lake Pontchartrain’s dark waters, running silently as they approached their target.
Masters’ estate emerged from the gloom, a sprawling mansion set back from the private dock.
Security lights cast pools of illumination across the manicured grounds, but the water approach remained shadowy and inviting.
The five men stood at the bow, their tactical gear blending into the night as the clock edged past nine p.m.
“Something’s been nagging at me.” Axel broke the tense silence.
His voice was barely above a whisper as he watched the approaching shoreline.
“Don’t you find it strange that Dominic Drake showed up at CDS after twenty years of radio silence?
Just like that, he appears without making contact with any of us prior to the opening night.
We were best friends at varsity, so his action doesn’t sit right. ”
Rex turned, interest piqued. “You’re thinking about that scene in the dungeon?”
“Yeah. The way he goaded you after that shit with Xia...” Axel shook his head. “That wasn’t the Dominic we knew. Hell, he used to practically worship the ground you walked on.”
“Now that you mention it,” Rex leaned against the railing, brow furrowed in thought, “I can't recall any incident that drove him away. He just... vanished. Although he always seemed envious, which never made sense. Kid came from old money and had every advantage.”
Dexter snorted, checking his weapon for the third time. “Remember how he called himself our younger tag-along? Like he was some kind of charity case?”
“For which I boxed his ears; he was only a couple of years our junior,” Max growled. “His confidence was shot to hell because his parents treated his achievements like they were nothing. Everything was measured against his peers’ success.”
Axel’s laugh held no humor. “Welcome to the club. We were all swimming in that same shitty pool of parental disappointment, but we didn’t let it define us.”
“Not everyone processes childhood trauma the same way,” Rex said quietly with a distant look in his eyes. “Some people let it fester.”
Jax, who had been unusually quiet, suddenly straightened. “Hold up. Are you guys suggesting DD might be connected to this whole Consortium mess?”
“Just speculating,” Axel replied, but his tone suggested otherwise. “I mean, did he even say hi to any of you when he arrived on board? He didn’t speak one word to me the entire weekend, and I don’t recall seeing him talking to any of you, except for Rex and Max during their altercation.”
“You’re right,” Max said thoughtfully. “Every time I tried to approach him, he disappeared. Thinking back, he definitely made a point of avoiding me.”
“I stood right there next to them in the dungeon, and I kept thinking about the look in his eyes when Rex chased him out of the dungeon... it wasn’t indignation or anger.
” Axel shook his head as the memory twirled in his mind.
“It was cold and calculating... fuck, I’d say it looked like pure hatred. ”
The boat’s engine throttled down as they neared the private dock.
Rex watched the mansion grow larger as his tactical mind was already mapping entry points even while he processed this new theory.
“It might be worth digging into what he’s been up to all these years.
Last I heard, he was running with a questionable crowd after graduation. ”
“CDS membership doesn’t come cheap,” Max pointed out. “Annual fees alone would buy a house. Whatever he’s been doing, he’s made money at it.”
“Or someone’s bankrolling him,” Dexter added darkly.
“Don’t forget he comes from old money. No, if anything, he’s fallen prey to the money breeds power shit.
” Rex couldn’t shake the feeling that Axel had stumbled onto something significant.
Dominic Drake’s reappearance, his attitude toward all of them over the entire weekend, the personal nature of The Consortium’s threats, and the tactical precision of their operations to date—it was starting to form a pattern.
“We focus on Masters for now,” Rex said, his voice carrying the quiet authority that commanded respect. “But after this, we need to take a closer look at our old friend DD. Axel is right... I have the same feeling that his sudden return to our lives isn’t a coincidence.”
The tactical boat sliced through the dark waters of Lake Pontchartrain, its specialized engine barely a whisper above the gentle lap of waves.
The mansion materialized to its full glory as Camden pulled back on the throttle and eased closer to shore.
Three stories of cream-colored stone and elaborate archways rose above meticulously landscaped grounds, multiple balconies offering commanding views of the lake.
Security lights created pools of warm illumination around the property's perimeter, but left telling shadows between—perfect for their approach.
Rex studied the layout through night vision binoculars. “There are four guards patrolling the grounds. Clockwork rotation, two-minute intervals. Yep, your intel is spot on, Camden. There are security cameras on all corners, but there’s a blind spot where the boat dock meets the garden wall.”
“Those ornate trellises might as well be welcome signs,” Dexter murmured, noting the heavy wooden lattices that climbed the mansion’s walls. “Probably supporting some expensive climbing roses during the day...”
“And supporting us tonight,” Axel finished with a grim smile.
The private dock extended thirty feet into the water with only minimal lighting, and a sleek Sunseeker yacht bobbing gently at the end.
“Two minutes to the next guard rotation,” Max whispered, checking his watch. “Jax?”
Jax had already prepared the specialized grappling equipment that would allow them to secure the boat without a sound. “Ready. We’ll need to time this perfectly with that guard’s turn at the north corner.”
As they drifted closer, details of Masters’ security system became clearer.
Motion sensors dotted the grounds, their small red lights blinking lazily in the darkness.
An elaborate CCTV system covered most approaches, except for the one they’d chosen.
The mansion’s downstairs windows were dark except for a faint glow from what appeared to be the kitchen area, but four rooms were lit up upstairs.
“Seems the Masters family is home.” Rex looked around. “We need to segregate him. Get him outside. I don’t want to spook his kids.”
“Agreed,” the five men said in unison as the boat glided the final few feet in perfect silence.
Jax’s skilled hands guided the boat into position just as the guard disappeared around the corner of the house.
The grapples hooked into place. Six shadows moved as one, their years of working together evident in their synchronized movements.
Within seconds, they had secured the boat and were running toward the dark space where the dock met a garden wall, becoming one with the shadows.
Like liquid shadows, they moved across the grounds, using the carefully timed intervals between guard rotations.
The fountain’s gentle cascade provided welcome audio coverage as they reached the rear terrace.
Suddenly a light switched on downstairs.
They froze as one. Through the open French doors, they saw Masters padding into his study with a glass in his hand.
Rex signaled Camden, Axel, and Dexter to take position at the exits while he, Max, and Jax moved toward the study’s double doors. The sound of children’s laughter drifted down from upstairs, followed by a woman’s gentle admonishment about bedtime.
Masters just settled into his leather armchair when the doors clicked shut behind him. Before he could fully turn, Max’s massive hand clamped over his mouth, stifling his startled cry. The tumbler dropped to the carpeted floor with the whiskey seeping into the expensive fibers.
“Evening, Colin,” Rex’s voice was deadly quiet as he moved into Masters’ line of sight. “We’re going to take a little boat ride. Nod if you understand that any attempt to alert your guards will result in an extremely unpleasant evening for your family.”
Masters’ eyes were wild above Max’s hand, but he managed a jerky nod.
“Good. Now, we’re going to walk very calmly to the dock. Your family never needs to know we were here. That’s a courtesy we’re extending because we’re not animals. Don’t make us regret it.”
As they moved through the darkness toward the water, Masters attempted to break free, opening his mouth to shout. Jax was ready, sliding a zip-tie gag into place with practiced efficiency while Dexter jabbed a sedative pen against Masters’ neck—just enough to keep him compliant but conscious.
“Try that again and know that you’ll be the reason your children have nightmares for years to come,” Rex growled angrily.
Masters’ eyes turned cloudy as the realization struck that he had no alternative but to comply.
Minutes later, they were powering across the dark lake with Masters secured at the center of the deck. When Camden cut the engine in the middle of the lake, the only sounds were the gentle lap of waves against the hull and Masters’ ragged breathing as Jax removed the gag.
“Whatever the fuck this is, I don’t know anything,” Masters gasped immediately. “Whatever you think—”