The Rendezvous Dylan stood, leaning on a table in a dark room. The room was lit up in all corners but still held a hint of darkness to it. Only Dylan and Bishop were in the room. It was the room where they usually discussed high-end deals or certain business related to the cartel that only the three of them needed to know about.Dylan had his sleeves rolled up and his coat hung on a stand at one edge of the room. His fingers held a blunt stylishly as he sucked out of it and blew out puffs with effortless charisma. He leaned on the table with his back to Bishop.Bishop stood straight, looking at the several documents spread out on the table before him. Dylan had gone through them and wanted him to have a look. He was supposed to do so with Victor but he was nowhere to be found. They arrived and met the news that he had gone out almost immediately. Dylan reached into his pocket and brought out his phone. He dialed Victor's number and waited for an answer. None came. He returned his pho
Dylan gently let go of Victor's shoulders, his eyes squinting in confusion as his ears refused to believe that they had heard."The Mayor's what?" Dylan asked for reconfirmation. "Burnley is the leader of The Ironsides! He's been playing us the whole time!" Victor repeated his statement. "I don't believe it" Bishop said from his corner. He gently dropped the glass on the table and walked towards the duo. Dylan stood, staring at the ground as he tried to put two and two together. "Ask the dead man whom I sent to spy on the mafia cartel. He was made out and he paid for it with his life" Victor replied."Hold on a bit, guys. Back up a little. Let me get this straight. The Mayor, Burnley, that cunt, is the head of the fucking Ironsides? How in the name of Mary is that possible?" Bishop asked, not making sense of any of the information."I sent one of my trusted hands to spy on them, know their meeting place and retrieve essential information with regards to their plans and operations.
The Echelon Dylan sat calmly on an armchair opposite the Mayor's secretary who sat on the sofa, both inside an exclusively furnished suite. The secretary to the mayor breathed heavily, her hands quivering as she struggled to hold her phone still. Dylan had asked her to call the mayor and invite him over. She was to tell him that she needed to see him urgently. The Vicar and Bishop stood by the entrance door, awaiting to knock Mayor Burnley down the moment he stepped foot inside the suite."Why the fuck is your hand shaking?" Victor asked fiercely. "Is that how it shakes when you blow him? Huh?" he glared at her with an intent to kill."Make the fucking call and invite the bastard over!" Victor hollered, cursing with rage.The secretary shook and managed to dial the number amidst sobs. She looked at Dylan as the phone rang.Dylan looked back at her with a blank expression. The phone rang for some seconds. There was no reply."Redial" Dylan calmly instructed. She did so. The phone ran
Mayor Burnley opened his eyes to feel his hands cuffed far apart from each other, chained to the roof, his body suspended above the ground with his legs chained to the same ground. He struggled, pulling at the cuffs in a bid to free his limbs but all to no avail. He looked around the room he was chained in. It had a red theme with a number of metal tables and glass wall-cabinets lying around. Several crude weapons and modified vocational tools laid on the tables and different knives of varying lengths, shapes and colors hung inside the glass wall-cabinets.If he was just an innocent Mayor who only knew of the regular society, he would have been oblivious to the purpose of these weapons and tools he saw around. But given his corrupt nature and the vices he engaged in, he knew differently. He was well informed on such things. He even had one place just like this.He knew what he was chained in. A torture room. And given the familiar voice he had heard before he passed out, he knew just
"Why are you keeping him alive?" Victor asked Dylan as they rode in the Urus. They were headed for the Rendezvous where Bishop was to meet them.Dylan exhaled. "I don't wish for him to just die off like that. He has to suffer pain for his actions. I want him begging for death. Even then I won't grant him" he replied. Victor grunted. "He doesn't deserve to live, Pope. He doesn't. You've killed for far less. Don't tell me you still feel a certain sympathy towards him" he retorted. Dylan scoffed with contempt. "Sympathy? That is a strong word, Vic. I don't even feel sympathy to my business partners or staff. Why should I feel such for a traitor?" he asked rhetorically. "I know how close you both were back in the day. So close that you never believed me when I told you he was shady. Hell, you didn't even want to hear of it. Whenever I brought the topic up, you immediately dismissed it or tried to change the subject" Victor replied. "What's this, Vic? Why are you bringing this up now?"
After finishing the contents of their glasses, Dylan and Victor exited the private room and headed to the hall. They got to the hall and stood on the podium looking expectantly at the entrance as they heard the swerving and drifting of several cars that entered the compound. Dylan beamed as he already knew it was done. The Ironsides had been completely eradicated. They watched as men in black suits and white shirts walked in with their guns in hand. Some of them had blood stains on their suits and shirts.They all bowed the moment they saw Dylan on the podium. "My Daggers" Dylan said, beaming with pride. He was well pleased with them. "How many of the Ironsides survived or escaped?" Dylan asked."None" they chorused.One man in a leather jacket walked out from their midst and knelt before the podium, bowing to Dylan."Nick" Dylan called with approval. "Pope" Nick replied, standing up with a smile."You've made me especially proud today, Nick. I am well pleased with you. Consider yo
The elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open. Dylan walked out of the compartment without looking at or a word to Beatrice. He walked into a large hall filled with golden chairs and white tables, arranged at several spots with adequate spacing. This level of the hotel was reserved for VIPs and only very few people could afford its luxury. Even though they had a desperate manager, Dylan had to give it to The Echelon for their unrivalled excellence in design and furniture. Even The Imperial Place paled in comparison to the grandeur of The Echelon's interiors. The Imperial Place had already established a name for themselves as they arrived before most other hotels. Also their client service was exceptional and generally acceptable by the wealthy and other upper class citizens. The Echelon, on the other hand, was critically remarked for the high prices and outrageously insane charges for their VIP services. So even among the upper or the upper circle, only a few could actually p
Chelsea sat on her bed, a smirk outlined on her lips as she tossed a coin in the air and caught it. She envisioned the tribute she had demanded from Stone coming in every month. All she needed was someone she could trust with the responsibility of fetching it. It had to be a man among the several guards Dylan placed in the house. She needed to search among them to see whom she could assign the duty and trust to keep his word.Both as a high-ranking member of the cartel and the Don's own consigliere, she had earned the right to call shots and assign duties. If she wanted, she could even order for her own division of guards, men solely serving her purpose and interests. But she didn't want to be soaked too deep in the mafia business and loose sight of her main goal.She had already decided in her heart that the work she did on Stone was going to be her last. She wasn't going to request for any other jobs that would take her out of the mansion. She was just going to serve as she had origi