Chapter 6 - The Trap is Set
With Mrs. Ingrid rushed to a private medical facility under heavy guard and Tommy being treated by the family doctor, Emmett stood in the courtyard of his estate. The midnight deadline was approaching rapidly. The wind had picked up again, howling through the ruined conservatory like a chorus of ghosts.
Marco approached him, holding a heavy tactical vest. “The captains are assembled, Emmett. We have forty men ready to hit the Swift plant. We have heavy weaponry, tactical gear, and the blueprints. But Victor knows we’re coming now. That hit squad was supposed to report back. When they don't, he’ll know he failed.”
“Good,” Emmett said, strapping the tactical vest over his chest. “Let him know I’m coming. Let him feel what it’s like to wait for the grim reaper.”
Before Emmett could climb into the command vehicle, he felt a gentle tug on his sleeve. He looked down. Luna was standing there, wrapped in a fresh blanket, escorted by one of the remaining loyal guards.
“Mr. Cross,” she said, her voice steady despite the redness of her eyes. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, silver locket. “This is my mom’s. She gave it to me so I wouldn't be scared. Can you give it to her when you find her? To let her know I’m waiting?”
Emmett took the tiny silver locket, placing it carefully into the secure pocket of his tactical vest, right over his heart. “I will deliver it personally, Luna. Stay here with the guards. I will be back before sunrise.”
“I know you will,” she said softly.
The convoy of black SUVs tore out of the estate, heading south toward the forgotten industrial wasteland of Chicago. The city lights faded away, replaced by the grim, rusted silhouettes of abandoned factories and towering smoke stacks.
Inside the lead vehicle, Emmett checked his weapons with a cold, methodical precision. He knew this wasn't just a rescue mission anymore; it was a reckoning. Victor Brennon had disrupted the delicate balance of the city, brought violence to Emmett’s doorstep, and threatened an innocent child. In Emmett’s world, there was only one punishment for such transgressions.
“Tommy managed to send through a final data packet before he went into surgery,” Marco said, looking at a tablet. “He managed to isolate Victor’s digital network. The moment we breach the facility, Tommy’s remote program will begin erasing all the falsified evidence Victor planted on our servers. But we only have a twenty-minute window once the breach begins before Victor’s system automatically broadcasts the data to the FBI.”
“Then we have twenty minutes to clear three floors of mercenaries, find Diana, and eliminate Victor,” Emmett said, his face completely devoid of fear. “Tell the men: no prisoners. If they are standing under Victor’s banner, they die.”
The SUVs killed their headlights as they approached the perimeter of the massive, decaying Swift & Co. meatpacking plant. The structure loomed like a concrete beast in the darkness, its broken windows looking like empty eye sockets.
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Emmett checked his watch. 11:40 PM.
“Move in,” he ordered.
