Chapter 18 #2
“Why wait?” Icer asks. “We know where he is, we know how to get in, why give him the chance to take off?” His voice is low, carrying the weight of a man who doesn’t believe in half-measures or federal timelines.
He stares at Riptide, his icy blue gaze unblinking.
Icer doesn’t care about the political fallout or the Dallas syndicate’s reach, he only sees the target in front of us and the tactical advantage of striking while they still think they’re shielded by the councilwoman’s office.
Every second of hesitation feels like a betrayal of the security we’ve promised our women and kids.
If Patrick is the weak link, Icer is ready to snap it before the feds even get their handcuffs out.
“What do you propose, Icer?” Rip queries.
“We know when he gets his packages from Jerome. They come like clockwork,” Icer reminds us.
“The courier doesn’t take a varied route.
He’s arrogant, comfortable with that bitch councilwoman’s protection.
If we intercept the shipment before it reaches the mansion, we don’t just take their supply, we take the man holding the keys to the castle. ”
“We’re aware of that,” I state. “Intercepting a courier is one thing, Icer, but doing it without tipping our hand to the feds or Jerome is a different beast entirely. We need more than just the location, we need a way to make him talk before the Dragons even realize he’s missing.”
“You’re not getting me, Slayer,” Icer interjects, grinding his molars.
“What am I not getting, brother?” I ask, keeping my voice steady despite the adrenaline spiking in my veins. Icer is a man of few words, and when he starts elaborating, it usually means he’s already mapped out a path through the carnage.
“We intercept the delivery,” Icer explains, his eyes narrowing to cold, lethal slits.
“The courier is soft, predictable. We take him out silently before he ever reaches the gates. Once we have his vehicle and his attire, we don’t just deliver the package, we become the delivery.
We snap the fucker right out of his own house while he’s waiting for his fix, and before the Dragons even realize the chain is broken, Patrick will be rotting in the catacombs. ”
“We use him as a bargaining chip,” Shade tacks on to Icer’s explanation, his fingers restlessly tapping the hilt of the knife at his belt that’s peeking out of its sheath.
“With the councilwoman’s son in our hands, we can dictate the terms of their surrender.
Jerome won’t risk his secondhand man’s life if he thinks we’re ready to mail him back in pieces. ”
“No, not a bargaining chip,” Icer refutes, his voice dropping to a guttural octave that silences the room.
He shakes his head slowly, a grim finality in the movement.
“Negotiations are for men who still have something to lose. We use him as bait. We use him to draw Jerome out of whatever rat hole he’s hiding in.
Once Jerome thinks he’s coming to rescue his lieutenant, we close the trap and end the Dragons for good. ”
“It’s a gamble, Icer. I’m not big on placing my bet on not being seen by the feds,” Riptide retorts.
My president leans back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the scarred surface of the table.
He’s the one who has to carry the weight of the fallout if this goes south.
If the feds are already building a RICO case, our intervention could be seen as an interference that would bring the full, crushing weight of the law down on the Kings.
“Life’s a gamble, Rip,” Icer retorts. “It’s high time we took the upper hand.
” Our enforcer doesn’t even blink as he stares Rip down.
To him, the risk of some federal inquiry is just background noise compared to the safety of our family.
We’ve been playing defense for months, dancing to Jerome’s tune while he cowered behind his father and that bitch councilwoman’s political skirt.
With the feds about to rip that shield away, the opening is right there, and Icer is ready to snatch it before those Dragon fuckers can slink away and disappear.
Rip and I share a look, the heavy silence of the room vibrating with the gravity of Icer’s proposal.
We’ve spent months upon months reacting to Jerome’s provocations, scurrying to keep our families safe from them and their malicious attacks.
The idea of finally taking the initiative, of becoming the ones who strike first, is an intoxicating prospect that has my own blood humming with a dangerous, expectant heat.
Icer isn’t just talking about a tactical maneuver, he’s offering us a way to reclaim the narration and prove to every low life in Canton that the Kings are still the ones holding the keys to this town.
“If we do this, there is no turning back,” Riptide rumbles, his eyes locking onto mine as if searching for any flicker of the hesitation I’m currently fighting to bury.
“We’re not just snatching a spoiled brat, we’re essentially declaring war on whatever federal timeline is currently in play.
If those agents find out we’ve interfered with their case, they’ll bury us right next to the councilwoman and her cronies.
” He pauses, his hand hovering midair before combing his fingers through his hair and releasing a huffed breath.
“But Icer’s right about the safety of our family.
Jerome has already proven he has no soul, and if Patrick takes his mother’s place and becomes his primary asset with those Dallas fuckers, the threat to our women and kids will never truly go away. ”
I think of Jersey back at the trailer, the way she finally found the courage to share her own dark history with me and the peace she’s discovered in our shared routine.
I think of Boston and Carolina, their innocent wonder at the world around them finally blooming because they believe they’re safe.
At this point, with the pieces of our enemy’s empire finally starting to fracture under the pressure of the feds and our own intel, what do we really have to lose?
We’ve already shed blood, paid our penance, and fortified our walls.
If the only way to ensure their future is to step into the darkness and finish this ourselves, then I’m ready to be the monster the club requires.
I look back at my president and give a single, sharp nod, the choice finally made.
“Let’s hunt some Dragons and snare them in our trap.”