"Boss, it's here."
The low knock on the car window was barely audible, but it snapped Zach to attention.
The man outside gave him a curt nod, signaling the arrival of the shipment. Zach took a deep breath and stepped out of the car, adjusting his posture as he walked toward the docking area.
He consciously adopted Damon's distinctive stride, attempting to carry the same air of authority and power.
As he neared the dock, a group of men appeared from the shadows, bowing slightly in respect. "We're Mr. Lee's men," one of them announced.
Zach nodded, keeping his face impassive. He knew all about Mr. Lee's dealings with Damon, so he gestured for them to join his own crew without a word.
The combined group moved toward the docking area, where Damon's men had already taken control of the heavy equipment used to unload cargo from ships.
They worked quickly, securing the shipment and moving it from the ship onto the dock.
"Open it," Zach commanded, his tone firm.
Two men approached the container, preparing to pry it open.
Suddenly, a sharp, metallic sound cut through the air. The explosive crack of a gunshot echoed across the empty port, and the two men fell lifelessly to the ground, their bodies sprawled in pools of spreading blood.
Zach spun around, his eyes wide with shock. Mr. Lee's men had their guns drawn, aimed squarely at him and his crew.
In an instant, his own men raised their weapons in response, and tension crackled in the air.
"What do you think you're doing?" Zach barked, his voice edged with anger.
One of Mr. Lee's men, a tall, sinister figure with a cruel smile, stepped forward. "Mr. Moon, it seems you don't understand what's happening here," he sneered, patting Zach on the shoulder.
He leaned in, his breath hot against Zach's ear, and whispered, "Tonight is the night you die."
Anger surged through Zach.
He shoved the man back, drawing his gun with a swift motion and firing. The shot was deadly accurate, and his would-be assassin crumpled to the ground.
Chaos erupted.
The port was filled with the deafening sound of gunfire as a brutal shootout began between Zach's men and Mr. Lee's crew.
Bullets whizzed past in every direction, some finding their marks with sickening accuracy.
"Boss!" one of Zach's men shouted, throwing himself in front of Zach just as a bullet whistled through the air.
The man took the hit in his shoulder, blood soaking through his jacket as he stumbled. "Boss, get out of here!" he gasped.
"No!" Zach's refusal was fierce. He needed to prove his loyalty and worth to Damon, and running away now would be nothing short of cowardice. "We fight together," he declared, helping the injured man to his feet.
The man's face twisted in pain, but his eyes widened with horror as he spotted another gunman, his weapon aimed squarely at Zach.
Helpless to stop the impending shot with his injured arm, he made a split-second decision. Stepping forward, he shielded Zach with his own body, taking the bullet straight through the chest. He collapsed into Zach's arms, lifeless.
"No!" Zach's anguished cry cut through the chaos. He gently laid the man down, rage and grief tightening his throat. Fueled by fury, he raised his gun and fired wildly, taking down several of Mr. Lee's men in a fit of revenge.
But the frenzied shooting had taken its toll.
As he reached for a fresh weapon, a searing pain erupted in his thigh. A bullet had struck him, and he staggered, sinking to one knee as blood poured from the wound.
One of Mr. Lee's men approached him, a triumphant sneer on his face. "Mr. Moon, any last words?"
Zach's gaze was icy as he looked up, refusing to show weakness. "Go to hell," he spat, his voice dripping with defiance. The man's face twisted in fury, and he wiped Zach's spit from his cheek before landing a savage kick to Zach's face, knocking him onto the ground.
"You dare spit on me?" The man's anger flared as he delivered kick after brutal kick, punishing Zach without mercy.
"Stop," a commanding voice rang out, silencing the frenzied beating. Mr. Lee stepped forward, flanked by a smug-looking Gregory.
"Make him kneel," Mr. Lee ordered. Zach was dragged to his knees, his strength nearly spent. Gregory approached with a wide grin, savoring his moment of triumph.
"Well, well, if it isn't the mighty Damon Moon," he sneered, holding a gun to Zach's head. "Any last words?"
Zach recognized the man immediately but kept his composure. He chuckled darkly, blood dribbling down his chin. "Is this all you've got?"
Gregory's grin faltered, and he laughed nervously. "What's so funny? You're finished, Damon. Tonight, you won't be walking away."
"Are you sure about that?" Zach replied, his voice steady despite the pain.
Gregory's confidence wavered, a flicker of doubt creeping into his expression. Something about Zach seemed… different.
His mannerisms, his voice, everything felt off.
Suspicious, Gregory stepped closer, reached for the edge of Zach's face, and ripped away the mask.
"What the—" Gregory's face twisted in shock as he stared at the man underneath.
Mr. Lee's reaction was even more telling. The initial surprise on his face melted into terror, his eyes widening with the dawning horror of what he had just done.
If Damon found out about this betrayal, there would be no escape for any of them.
Zach smirked, spitting blood onto the ground. "Surprised? My boss, Damon Moon, is always five steps ahead of pathetic roaches like you."
Gregory's fury boiled over. He pressed the gun to Zach's forehead and pulled the trigger without hesitation.
Zach's body slumped lifelessly to the ground, his blood soaking into the dirt. Gregory turned sharply to face Mr. Lee, his face a mask of barely-contained rage.
"Explain," he growled, his voice laced with menace.
"Mr. Gregory, I-I can explain!" Mr. Lee stammered, taking a fearful step back. He was scrambling to think of an excuse, his mind racing as panic clutched his heart.
"Well?" Gregory's voice was a deadly whisper, his gaze unforgiving.
Mr. Lee swallowed hard, grasping for any way out. "Sir, please. With all the noise from the shootout, someone in the neighborhood might have called the police. You should leave before they arrive. I'll take care of this mess and give you a full report tomorrow."
Gregory paused, weighing his options. With the election nearing, the last thing he needed was a scandal that could harm his father's campaign.
He gave Mr. Lee a sharp nod. "Fine. But I expect answers first thing tomorrow. Don't make me regret sparing you."
Without another word, Gregory strode back to his car and drove off into the night.
Mr. Lee's facade crumbled as he watched the car disappear, his knees giving way as he collapsed to the ground. His heart pounded furiously, the reality of his predicament sinking in.
"Sir, what should we do?" one of his men asked, his voice trembling. They all knew Damon's ruthlessness. None of them—or their families—would be safe if he discovered their betrayal.
Mr. Lee drew a shuddering breath. "First, we need to make sure Damon doesn't hear a word of this. We'll take the cargo, and if he asks about his men and Zach… we'll say they were ambushed and killed in the crossfire."
"Do you think he'll believe that?" another man asked doubtfully.
Mr. Lee shrugged, his expression bleak. "We have no choice. Either way… we're dead."