Chapter 16
Aron
Maria.
I can’t believe I let myself get distracted with Matt. I knew the Syndicate was on the move, that they could strike at any moment. Why the fuck did I go to that motel?
As soon as I’m in the car and on the road, I connect to the car’s Bluetooth and dial Isaac.
“Don Aron?”
“My family … Are they safe?”
Isaac sputters a little, like he didn’t expect the question. “Th-they’re in the safehouse. The one on—”
“Don’t say it!” Am I hiring absolute idiots? “Don’t ever say their location over the phone. You never know who could be listening.”
“S-sorry, sir!”
I speed through a red light, avoiding a collision with a semi hauling two trailers through nothing more than sheer luck.
I certainly wasn’t looking. “The safehouse … How did we pay for it? Was the transaction direct, or did we use our shell companies to purchase it? Is there any written record of it at the compound, anything that can track that location back to us?”
“I don’t know, Don Aron. That’s something the accountants would know, m-maybe your senior officers. It’s above my rank.”
Damnit. “Get Sergio on the line. I need the answer.”
Weaving in and out of the evening traffic, horns blaring in my wake, I press on towards the safehouse. Without waiting for Sergio’s call, I dial Emily.
“Hey, baby!” she chirps. “Where have you been all evening? Maria and I were getting worried.”
“Which guards are with you?”
“Huh? We’ve got Enrique, Jonesy, King, and Liam. Why?”
Four guards? That’s going to look suspicious if anyone notices. “How many cars did you guys take to get there?”
“Just two. Jonesy drove me and Maria, and the rest came in Liam’s SUV.”
“Did anyone see all of you go inside?”
On the other end of the line, Maria starts fussing. Emily shushes her, and when she replies, her tone is short. “Look, Aron, what is this about? Maria misses you. She’s scared without you. Where have you been?”
With two armored cars parked outside and several large, intimidating men following my wife and daughter inside, people will notice. If they were followed …
The suburbs were supposed to be a relatively unpredictable location for an Empire safehouse.
In Tito’s days running the Royal Syndicate, suburban homes were forbidden.
He refused to risk a Syndicate member getting sloppy and being caught unawares in an unsecure neighborhood.
My house with Emily, for instance, was in an elite gated community, supposedly one with state-of-the-art security measures in place.
Obviously, Dad found a way around those when he and Emily conspired to fake her death the night he blew up half the top-ranking Syndicate members, but considering Tito probably consulted with Dad on the location, I’m not surprised.
Could Matt’s people have guessed where I hid Emily and Maria? Did someone from the Syndicate tail their little caravan? The thought plagues me as I speed through town towards the house.
“Get out of there, Em. Take Maria and leave the city.”
Emily lets out a frustrated grunt. “Where are we supposed to go, Aron?”
“Anywhere but here.”
“Look, I try to be a patient, understanding wife, but you have got to tell me what’s going on. How can I help protect our daughter if I don’t know?”
If the situation wasn’t so dire, I’d argue about her methods of protecting Maria.
Emily still wears a holstered gun at all times, which can’t be safe around our daughter.
“Emily, please. Just trust me for once. We know the Syndicate is mobilizing; that should be enough reason to vacate and get the hell out of Dodge.”
“We came here because you ordered it! Now you’re saying to leave?” Her voice rises to a shrill pitch, and I wince.
“Yes. New orders. Now get out.”
I don’t wait for her to argue further. Disconnecting the call with a quick button press, I veer across three lanes to my exit.
Even if Emily and the guards start leaving now, without further argument, they’ll have to formulate a plan. Figure out where they’re going. Pack Maria’s things. Get her in the car seat.
Fuck, will they have enough time?
My foot bears down on the gas pedal as I near the neighborhood. I haven’t been paying too much attention to the other cars, aside from avoiding collisions, but I’m starting to notice more high-end cars on the road, heading the same direction as me …
High-end cars that look suspiciously like they might be armored.
Moments after I first peg the Syndicate vehicles, one sideswipes me. I fight to keep from careening off the road, striking back with my own car. The Syndicate car gets caught between me and the guardrail, which shears off its posts and spears the other car.
Without wasting a second, I ram the next black SUV from behind, hitting it as just enough of an angle to send it veering into the path of the semi beside it.
They didn’t stand a chance, armor or no.
Part of me feels guilty for going after my former comrades like this. Then again, they’re after my family—my child. They don’t really deserve sympathy or pity, and I suppose they haven’t earned my guilt.
What I don’t understand is why they’re still after Emily and Maria. If Matt took the time to warn me in the motel, couldn’t he have called off the hit? Did Matt set something into motion that even he can’t control?
That thought is almost more worrisome than the two Syndicate vans that nearly pinned my car between them.
Slamming on the brakes dodges that vehicular bullet, forcing the vans to collide with each other instead. I swerve around the mess and exit prematurely, hoping to fake them into following me rather than head in the proper direction.
Unfortunately, only half of them fall for it.
With three cars still on my tail and another three heading for my daughter, I weave an elaborate trail through neighborhoods, side streets, and back alleys.
To my relief, the streets are mostly clear of innocent civilians at this hour, and thanks to some strategic driving, I manage to decrease the number of cars following me to one, leaving the other two behind in twisted balls of crumpled steel.
One car riding my ass. Three more taking a direct route to the safehouse.
This will be close.
Something else nags at the back of my mind, and it isn’t until I fly past a roadside cop that it hits me:
Not one single police car has joined the chase.
Fuck. Matt bought off the local precinct. I’m not exactly eager for the authorities to get involved in this, but it might have helped to mitigate the damage done.
When I finally reach the safehouse, I see that I’ve just made it. Emily carries Maria out of the house with the guards hot on her heels. I screech to a halt at the end of the driveway, blocking their exit but also providing a barrier between them and the approaching Syndicate vehicles.
Emily climbs into the waiting van and slams the armored door shut behind her. I can’t see inside through the tinted windows, but I hope she’s getting Maria in the car seat. I don’t know how long this altercation will take, and the sooner they’re ready to evacuate, the better.
Throwing my door open, I get out and crouch behind the reinforced steel, gun in hand. If Matt’s men think they’ve got an easy target, they’re about to be disappointed.
I plan on killing every single one of them before they even get close.
First target: the Syndicate car immediately behind me.
Since I know Matt’s vehicles are bulletproof, I don’t bother aiming at the car.
Instead, I fire at the gas tank of a car parked on the side of the street.
The resulting explosion sends the Syndicate car spiraling.
It lands on its roof, flames already spreading at an alarming rate.
Since I’m familiar with the Syndicate specs, I know the underside of the cars to be vulnerable.
One quick shot to the tank, and I’ve eliminated the first threat.
Just as that car goes up in a fireball of destruction, the remaining Syndicate caravan arrives on the scene.
Three cars full of Syndicate thugs. A limited number of bullets remaining.
This is going to be rough.
Two of Emily’s guards take positions in the driveway, and the other two run around to join me behind the cover of my car.
“What’s the plan?” Enrique asks as he chambers a round.
“Kill them all.”
“Fair enough.”