The weeks following their botched ambush only deepened the mystery of The Wolf. Every time Tommy thought he was closing in, the trail went cold—contacts vanished, shipments disappeared, and his own men were being picked off. The Wolf's presence in Sydney was undeniable now, but his identity remained shrouded in shadow.
Tommy paced in the back office of *The Old Irish*, the whiskey on his desk untouched, his mind racing. Richie sat across from him, staring at a map of Sydney pinned to the wall, its surface littered with red circles marking territories that had been lost to The Wolf's syndicate.
"It's like the guy's untouchable," Richie muttered, rubbing his temples. "We hit his operations, and he barely flinches. Then, next thing you know, half our stash houses are raided, and our own guys are turning up dead or missing."
Tommy clenched his fists, feeling the familiar burn of frustration. Every move he made had been anticipated, and every attempt to strike back had been met with crushing force. It was as if The Wolf had eyes and ears everywhere. Even worse, Tommy's own network of informants was beginning to fray—nobody wanted to risk angering The Wolf. Fear was spreading through the underworld, and loyalty was becoming a rare commodity.
"We've been going after his businesses," Tommy said, his voice low and controlled. "Maybe that's the problem. He doesn't care about losing a few shipments here or there. The guy's thinking bigger—long-term."
Richie looked up, concern etched into his face. "What are you saying? That we can't hurt him?"
"No," Tommy said, shaking his head. "I'm saying we need to stop playing by his rules. He wants to make this a chess game, fine. But I'm not sitting around waiting for him to checkmate us."
Richie raised an eyebrow. "So what's the plan?"
Tommy leaned forward, his eyes hardening with resolve. "We stop going after the small fish. No more hitting warehouses or shipments. We go for the bigger targets—his lieutenants. The guys that keep his machine running."
Richie frowned. "We've been trying that. These guys don't talk. The ones we've managed to grab… they're more scared of him than they are of us."
"That's because we haven't hit the right ones yet," Tommy said coldly. "We find someone close enough to know who The Wolf really is. Someone high enough up the chain that they've seen his face, know his real name, know where he hides. And when we find him, we make him talk."
Richie sighed, lighting another cigarette. "Easier said than done, mate. The Wolf's men are like ghosts. They don't leave trails, don't use names. Hell, half the time, they don't even meet face to face."
Tommy leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling as he thought through the problem. Richie was right. The Wolf operated with a level of secrecy that made him almost impossible to pin down. It was as if his entire network was designed to keep him hidden, layers of protection wrapped around him like armor.
But Tommy wasn't about to give up. Not yet.
"There's one guy," Tommy said slowly, his mind latching onto an idea. "I've heard rumors—about a man in the eastern suburbs. Some sort of high-level fixer, handles The Wolf's money laundering, moves his cash around the city. They call him Sergei."
Richie nodded. "Yeah, I've heard of him. Russian, right? Ex-spook or something. I don't know much, but I've heard he's untouchable too. Word is, even the cops stay away from him."
"Maybe," Tommy said, his tone darkening. "But nobody's untouchable forever."
---
A few days later, Tommy's men tracked down Sergei's safehouse, a fortified mansion on the outskirts of the city. The place was surrounded by high walls, security cameras, and heavily armed guards. It was the kind of place designed to keep people out—or keep its occupants safe.
Tommy wasn't interested in subtlety this time. If Sergei was as important to The Wolf's operation as Tommy believed, then it was worth the risk. The plan was simple—storm the place, grab Sergei, and get him to spill everything he knew about The Wolf. If they could break him, they might finally get the lead they needed.
Under the cover of night, Tommy led his men toward the mansion. The air was thick with tension as they moved into position, ready for a fight. Tommy could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, but he pushed the nerves aside. This was just another job, another battle in a long war that wasn't close to over.
Richie joined him near the front gate, holding a pair of bolt cutters. "You sure about this?" he asked quietly, eyeing the mansion. "We're walking into a hornet's nest."
"We've got no choice," Tommy said grimly. "Sergei's the closest thing we've got to The Wolf. If we don't hit him now, we may never get another shot."
Richie nodded, cutting the chain on the gate. The group moved forward silently, slipping through the shadows until they reached the side of the mansion. Tommy signaled his men to fan out and cover the exits. There would be no escape for Sergei tonight.
The assault was fast and brutal. Tommy's men stormed the mansion, taking down the guards with ruthless efficiency. Gunfire echoed through the halls as they cleared room after room, searching for Sergei.
Tommy and Richie found him holed up in a panic room on the third floor. It took a few well-placed explosives to breach the door, but when the smoke cleared, Sergei was standing there, hands raised in surrender.
He was older than Tommy had expected—mid-fifties, with a thin frame and graying hair. But there was something dangerous in his eyes, a sharpness that told Tommy this man wasn't easily broken.
"Sergei," Tommy said, stepping forward, his gun trained on the Russian's chest. "We need to have a chat."
Sergei smirked, a cold, mocking expression. "You've made a mistake, Bannister," he said in a thick Russian accent. "You think grabbing me is going to save you? The Wolf—he's already ten steps ahead of you. You're chasing shadows."
Tommy narrowed his eyes. "Maybe. But you're gonna help me change that."
Sergei shook his head, his smirk never wavering. "You think you can break me? Torture me? I've seen things, done things, that would make your worst nightmares look like child's play. I'm not afraid of you."
Tommy stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Maybe not. But I don't need you to fear me. I just need you to fear him more."
Sergei's smile faltered for a moment, and Tommy saw a flicker of doubt in his eyes. It was enough to give him hope.
But before Tommy could push further, a loud explosion rocked the mansion, shaking the walls and sending debris crashing down around them. Tommy instinctively ducked, his heart racing as the sound of gunfire erupted outside.
Richie rushed to the window, his face pale. "It's them," he shouted over the noise. "The Wolf's men—they're here!"
Tommy cursed under his breath. He had underestimated The Wolf's reach once again. The attack on Sergei hadn't gone unnoticed, and now they were trapped.
"We've got to move!" Tommy barked, grabbing Sergei by the collar and dragging him toward the back of the mansion. "Get him out of here!"
But as they made their way through the chaos, Tommy couldn't shake the feeling that The Wolf was always watching, always waiting, and that no matter what he did, he was only playing right into his hands.
---
The next morning, Tommy stood outside the ruined mansion, his face bruised and bloodied from the fight. Sergei had escaped during the firefight, and The Wolf's men had melted back into the shadows as quickly as they had appeared.
Tommy stared at the wreckage, the weight of failure pressing down on him. The Wolf had once again proven himself to be untouchable—his reach too long, his network too impenetrable.
Richie approached, his expression grim. "We lost half our guys," he said quietly. "And Sergei's gone. We're back to square one."
Tommy nodded, his jaw clenched. He had underestimated The Wolf, and it had cost him dearly. But this wasn't over—not by a long shot.
"We'll find another way," Tommy said, his voice filled with cold determination. "No one's untouchable forever. Not even him."
But deep down, Tommy knew that The Wolf was unlike any enemy he had ever faced before. And with every failed attempt to bring him down, the shadow of The Wolf only grew larger, more powerful, and more terrifying.
This war was far from over—and Tommy was beginning to wonder if he would survive it.