Chapter 6 - The Traitor's Move
The Senator froze completely, his arrogant sneer melting into absolute terror.
"What are you doing?" the Senator shrieked at the mercenary holding the gun to his head.
"I pay you triple what Blackwell pays you!"
The mercenary didn't flinch.
"Mr. Blackwell pays us in money," the mercenary replied coldly.
"He also pays us in the guarantee that our families will never be hunted."
Preston shrieked in panic and dove behind the open door of the town car.
Damon signaled Matteo, who rushed forward to untie Kate's mother and pull her away from the edge of the pier.
Kate sobbed in relief, running awkwardly to embrace her fragile mother.
The standoff seemed entirely won, but Damon knew victory was rarely this simple.
He turned back to the Senator, ready to demand the total surrender of his political empire.
Suddenly, a loud gunshot echoed through the foggy shipping yard.
The mercenary holding the gun to the Senator's head collapsed to the concrete, a bullet hole between his eyes.
Damon spun around, raising his own weapon instantly.
Standing by the rear bumper of Damon's SUV was Leo, the quiet young guard from the storage room.
Leo held a smoking pistol, aiming it directly at Damon's back.
"Put the gun down, Boss," Leo commanded, his hands shaking slightly.
Matteo cursed loudly, raising his assault rifle toward the young traitor.
"If anyone moves, I blow Damon's spine in half," Leo warned, stepping closer.
The Senator laughed hysterically, brushing the dirt off his expensive suit.
"You really thought I would come here without an insurance policy inside your own house?" the Senator mocked.
Leo had been leaking Damon's security protocols to the Senator for six months.
"Leo, you are throwing away your life for a dying politician," Damon said calmly, not lowering his weapon.
"He promised me my own territory in the south side," Leo argued, sweat dripping down his face.
Preston emerged from behind the car, realizing the odds had shifted back in his favor.
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He walked straight toward Kate and her mother, drawing a silver pocket knife.
"Now, where were we, little bird?" Preston smiled wickedly.
