The plan was ambitious, dangerous even, but it was the only way to cripple Cassandra's drug operation. John, Callum, Edward, and I had coordinated for weeks, piecing together the Syndicate's trafficking network. Tonight, we would strike three key locations—their nightclub front, their dockyard hub, and their scrapyard stash.
Failure wasn't an option.
Lets start with phase one: the night club!
The bass from Pure Eclipse thudded like a heartbeat as I stood in the alley with Edward's men. The nightclub was more than just a hotspot for partying—it was a distribution hub, where Cassandra's men moved drugs under the cover of flashing lights and oblivious crowds.
"Three guards at the front, two in the alley," John's voice came through my earpiece. "I've looped the cameras. You're clear to move."
I signaled to the team. Two men slipped into the shadows, their silenced pistols dispatching the alley guards without a sound. I adjusted my earpiece.
"Time to make some noise," I muttered, walking confidently toward the club's entrance.
The bouncer barely had time to react before I drove my fist into his gut, disarming him with a swift kick. As I stepped inside, the chaos began.
The dance floor was a blur of strobe lights and writhing bodies, but Cassandra's men stood out like sore thumbs, their eyes scanning for trouble. The moment they spotted me, guns were drawn.
I dove behind the bar as bullets shattered glass above me. Grabbing a bottle, I smashed it over the head of an approaching guard and used the jagged edge to deflect a knife aimed at my throat. Twisting the blade from his grip, I slammed him into the counter.
"William, the DJ booth—there's a hidden staircase behind it," John directed.
I fought my way across the dance floor, taking out guards with quick, brutal efficiency. One lunged at me with a bat, but I sidestepped, grabbing his arm and flipping him onto a table. Another swung a chain, but I used a barstool to block his attack before delivering a knockout punch.
Reaching the DJ booth, I yanked away the equipment, revealing a hatch. I descended into a dimly lit storage room filled with crates of drugs—and more guards.
They rushed me all at once. I grabbed a metal pipe, swinging it like a bat to keep them at bay. One lunged with a crowbar; I sidestepped, tripping him into a stack of crates. Another aimed a gun, but I was faster, throwing the pipe at his hand and disarming him.
"Storage room secure," I reported, panting. "Moving to phase two."
An hour later, we've arrived at the dock for phase two of the plan.
The dockyard was a fortress. Shipping containers formed walls, and armed guards patrolled with dogs. Edward's convoy rolled up, his men armed to the teeth.
"William, you take the high ground," Edward said, gesturing toward the crane. "We'll handle the gate."
I climbed the scaffolding, my silenced pistol ready. The sniper perched on the crane hadn't noticed me yet. Creeping up behind him, I grabbed his rifle and yanked him off balance, letting him tumble into the sea below.
Using his rifle, I picked off guards as Edward's men stormed the gates. Explosions rocked the dock as C4 charges blew through the main doors of the warehouse.
Inside, it was chaos. Guards fired from elevated positions, using the shipping containers as cover. Edward moved like a predator, his shotgun roaring as he took down anyone in his path.
I slid down a rope from the crane, landing behind a group of guards. Before they could react, I disarmed one, used his weapon to shoot another, and delivered a brutal elbow strike to the third.
"Keep pushing!" I shouted.
One of the guards tossed a grenade, but I kicked it back toward them, diving for cover as it exploded. By the time the dust settled, the dockyard was ours.
Now it's time to take over the final location and end this drug dealing chain forever and make Cassandra's starting to lose her powers!
The scrapyard was a maze of rusted cars and twisted metal, perfect for an ambush. Callum led the ground team while I monitored from Edward's mobile command vehicle.
"Callum, guards are hiding behind the stacks to your left," I said, watching the drone feed.
Callum signaled his team, advancing with calculated precision. A guard tossed a Molotov cocktail, igniting a wall of flames. The fire spread quickly, turning the scrapyard into an inferno.
"Use the forklift!" I advised.
Callum sprinted toward the machine, dodging bullets as he climbed into the driver's seat. He rammed through barricades, sending guards scrambling.
Meanwhile, his team set traps, using chains and car doors to lure guards into ambushes. One guard tried to climb onto the forklift, but Callum swung a wrench, knocking him off.
The flames intensified, and the guards began to panic. Callum's team pressed the advantage, taking out the remaining opposition and destroying the drug stash hidden among the wreckage.
By the time the last flames died out, the scrapyard was nothing but smoldering ruins.
Back at Edward's mansion, the air was thick with a mix of victory and tension. The raid had dealt a devastating blow to Cassandra's drug operations, but we all knew this was just the beginning.
Edward sat in his massive leather armchair, a crystal glass of whiskey in hand. The soft glow from the fireplace reflected off the scar under his chin, giving him an air of gravitas that demanded respect. His men stood quietly along the walls, their faces marked with the fatigue of battle, yet their eyes glinted with pride.
"We hit them hard tonight," Edward said, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "But don't get cocky, boy. Cassandra won't back down. If anything, you've just made yourself her number-one target."
"I'm counting on it," I replied, leaning against the edge of the table, my voice steady despite the weight of his words. "We've rattled her cage. Now we watch where she runs and strike again before she has a chance to recover."
Edward studied me for a long moment, his icy gaze searching for weakness. "You've got guts, kid, I'll give you that. But guts won't be enough to take her down. You're going to need more than just brute force. You'll need to be smarter than her—always three steps ahead."
"That's the plan," I said, locking eyes with him.
Edward's lips curled into a faint smirk. "I've seen men twice your age crumble under pressure like this. But you? You're either a damn fool or the most dangerous man I've ever met."
"Let's just say I've had practice," I said, the corner of my mouth twitching into a smirk of my own.
At that moment, Callum and John walked into the room. Callum had a grim look on his face, while John was rubbing the back of his neck, clearly still shaken from the chaos at the scrapyard.
"Callum, John," Edward greeted them, nodding. "Your boy here managed to pull off what most would call impossible. You two have good instincts sticking by him."
"William's always had a knack for turning chaos into strategy," John replied, his voice laced with pride. "But even I didn't think we'd pull this off so cleanly. Cassandra's going to feel this one for a while."
"She will," Callum added, his voice low and calculating. "But Edward's right. This was just the first punch. She'll hit back harder. We need to be ready."
"Which brings me to our next move," I interjected, stepping forward. "Edward, I need more intel on Cassandra's operations. Tonight proved we can dismantle her network piece by piece, but if we're going to bring her down for good, we need to find her core—her weak spot. Every empire has one."
Edward chuckled darkly, setting his glass down on the table with a soft clink. "You think you're the first to try and find Cassandra's weak spot? Plenty have tried. Plenty have died."
"Then they weren't looking in the right places," I said firmly. "You've been in this city long enough to know where all the skeletons are buried. Help me dig them up."
The room fell silent as Edward leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. Finally, he spoke.
"All right, boy. You've earned my attention. I'll give you what I know—but I'll warn you now. The deeper you dig into Cassandra's world, the darker it gets. She's not just running a Syndicate; she's built an empire of loyalty, fear, and secrets. To tear it down, you'll have to destroy every foundation she's laid. That won't just make you her enemy—it'll make you everyone's enemy."
"Then so be it," I said, my voice unwavering. "If that's the price for taking her down, I'll pay it."
Edward leaned forward, his face now illuminated by the firelight. "You're either the bravest fool I've ever met—or the kind of leader this city hasn't seen in decades. Either way, I'm in."
"Good," I said, standing tall. "Because tonight was just the beginning. We're going to bring the Syndicate to its knees—one piece at a time."
Edward's laughter echoed through the room, deep and genuine. "You've got fire, kid. Let's see if it's enough to burn Cassandra's empire to the ground."
The tension in the room eased slightly as the weight of our victory began to settle in. But I knew this was far from over.
As the others began to discuss the finer details of our next steps, I slipped outside for a moment of quiet. The cold night air bit at my skin, but it was a welcome change from the heat of battle.
Looking up at the stars, I let myself feel a flicker of hope. For the first time in a long time, I wasn't just fighting to survive—I was fighting to win.
But as much as I relished the victory, I couldn't shake the feeling that Cassandra was already plotting her next move. The war was far from over, and the hardest battles were still ahead.
I turned back toward the mansion, the resolve in my chest burning stronger than ever.
"Cassandra," I whispered to myself, "you have no idea what's coming."