Chapter 28: Syndicate Meeting, News At 11!

Chapter 28: Syndicate Meeting, News At 11!

After the meeting started, it was pretty boring for me. I sat back and used my phone to monitor the hotel's security cameras, keeping a close eye on any suspicious activity, especially around the main elevators.

Fredrick Di and his five guys were my primary concern right now. I kept my scripts running to intercept their texts and calls. Fortunately, I found out a lot of interesting details, on top of confirming the guy was guilty as fuck.

At exactly 3 am, their group was planning to make a move and attack the meeting. Not only were the five subordinates going to strike, but they also had bought members embedded inside the other three gangs ready to turn. To make things worse, they had an outside force scheduled to assault the rooftop at the exact same time, though the logs didn't show the specific details of who or what was coming.

This left me in a real pickle. I wasn't entirely sure how to handle this oncoming chaos. If they had assets like Di who were paid assassins for the Southern Cross, this entire roof was going to erupt in extreme violence. I was actually less worried about the outside attack and more worried about a crossfire from the plants. Since I couldn't just walk up to the main table without causing a scene, I pulled up my messages and sent Jenifer a text to show Tina immediately.

[Jenifer, show this to Tina: Di and the Southern Cross are making an assault at 3 am and they have plants in all four groups, so we have to deal with them before they can act. I don't know their traitors in their organizations, so I can't deal with everyone.]

Jenifer looked completely startled the second she read the text on her screen. She got up quickly, leaning down over Tina's shoulder to hold the phone in front of her face while the other three syndicate leaders watched curiously. Tina looked taken aback at the sheer audacity of someone trying to openly wipe out all four factions at once. She turned her head, caught my eye across the deck, and waved me over.

Jenifer sat back down as I approached the table. The other bodyguards in the area immediately shifted their weight, their eyes locking onto my movement because, from their perspective, I had basically appeared out of thin air. Only about ten high-level operators in the entire space had actually tracked my position the whole time. Tina leaned in close, whispering directly into my ear. I could catch the sweet scent of strawberries throwing off from her hair as she spoke.

"Are you sure about this, Rick? It's 2:35 now, which leaves us only a half hour before their plan starts."

"Absolutely sure," I whispered back, keeping my face straight. "And what shampoo do you use anyway? It's strawberry, right?"

Tina flashed a quick grin, realizing I was just cracking a joke to keep my own baseline mood stable under pressure. She immediately ignored the banter and got back to business.

"Then keep your eyes locked on the other five subordinates to see if they make a move," she instructed. "I'm going to clean up Di ahead of schedule."I unbuttoned my light jacket to ensure clear access to my waistline and gave her a firm nod, walking over to assume a point position right by the front entrance of the gazebo. Tina watched me move with a small smile, almost like she was seeing off a lover, before turning back to face the other faction heads.

"While I take care of a little internal conflict within my group, please look over these papers," she said smoothly. "I apologize in advance for my less than ladylike behavior."

Jenifer perfectly timed the phrase, handing Tina three distinct folders, which Tina slid across the polished table to the other members. As the leaders looked down in total surprise at the contents, Tina stood up from her chair. The folders contained complete intelligence breakdowns on Fredrick Di, his five active shooters, and their logistical connection to the Southern Cross, letting the other syndicates know exactly what was happening so they wouldn't panic and draw weapons.

Tina stepped out of the gazebo, her tight black bodysuit hugging her frame as she walked toward her personal security detail where I had been resting earlier. She reached toward her lower back, her gloved hand gripping a small bundle concealed under the fabric. She purposely swayed her hips in a slow, seductive rhythm, entirely using her assassin training to force the surrounding men to lose their focus. It worked perfectly. Even Fredrick Di was entirely occupied by dirty thoughts of ruining his boss right before he was scheduled to kill her.

"The Fire Birds are supposed to be a respectable organization that operates with a strict code of honor," Tina said, her voice dropping into a cold, flat cadence. "But it seems I have some weak-minded, greedy birds nesting in my territory. So, just like the phoenix, it's time to be reborn!"

Her beautiful face went entirely blank, carrying that deep, terrifying calm that lets a target know they have completely fucked up. What she held in her hands was a pair of heavy metal rings connected by a specialized, high-tensile piano wire—a classic assassin's garrote. With the rings wrapped securely around her thumbs and the reinforced leather gloves protecting her skin, she moved with lightning speed, looping the vicious cord right around Fredrick Di's neck from behind.

She pulled back hard, the thin wire biting deep into his flesh to crush his windpipe. Di desperately clawed at his own throat to break the tension—a completely fruitless task—while his other hand dropped toward his waistband to draw his gun. But Tina utilized her high-level flexibility and martial arts training to launch a sharp heel kick, driving his arm away from his holster as if her leg were a third arm.

The other three vice-leaders immediately raised their open hands, signaling their respective bodyguards to stay calm and hold their perimeters while they watched the execution play out. None of the people sitting at that table were strangers to death. In fact, I was the single person on the entire rooftop who had never actually taken a human life, until right now.

Fredrick Di's five corrupt shooters saw their primary paycheck getting choked to death in front of them and realized their entire operation was blown.

They drew their handguns simultaneously, rushing toward the gazebo to save their commander.

The moment they cleared leather, my instincts from my grandmaster training triggered a massive alert, my five senses processing the structural trajectory of the threat with absolute precision. This martial arts ability wasn't magic or some supernatural power; it was just highly refined physical survival programming that allowed my brain to perceive a mortal threat instantly. It was the exact same baseline that allowed my father to fight like a god.

Without a single conscious thought passing through my mind, my body registered that Tina would be shot and killed by the front two gunmen within the next second. My hands moved in a total blur.

Swoosh! Swoosh!

Both of my HK P30s were out of their concealed holsters and the thumb safeties clicked off before the most experienced operators in the space could even register the movement, since there were no master-tier practitioners present to match my speed. The quick-draw looked completely impossible to the crowd, especially to the five souls who had just initiated their own deaths.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! My right hand delivered a rapid, five-round burst aimed directly at all five targets' heads.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Simultaneously, my left hand hammered out a five-round burst targeting their chest cavities to destroy their hearts.

Bang! Bang!

A sudden, heavy jolt slammed straight into my abdomen. One of the front two gunmen had managed to pull his trigger right as my lead caught him, his bullet hitting me dead center in the stomach. His second stray shot chipped harmlessly into the concrete decking.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!

All five assassins collapsed to the floor in a split second, dropping like sacks of potatoes with two perfect entry wounds apiece. My stomach hurt like an absolute motherfucker, the crushing kinetic energy making it feel like I had just been kicked squarely in the ribs by a mule.

When the gunfire cleared, Di’s face had turned completely purple as his soul joined his boys in the afterlife. Tina calmly unwound the steel wire from his neck, checking the room.

"Lee, are you okay?" she asked.

The pain in my gut was intense, but the ballistic vest had done its job, stopping the lead from entering my tissue even if it couldn't absorb the raw blunt force impact.

"I am fine," I grunted, rolling my shoulders. "But it is not over yet."

Tina slid her wire and gloves into a secure bag for cleaning later, turning her body to address the other three vice-leaders.

"I have successfully taken care of the traitors in my nest," she announced. "At exactly 3 am, the Southern Cross is launching an outside assault on this roof. I don't know which specific assets inside your groups have been bought out by their money, so I suggest you handle your perimeters immediately."

The leaders checked their watches, noting the time read exactly 2:46 am. They moved into immediate tactical lock-downs.

Jerry Bing turned to his crew, shouting, "Crouching Tigers, all of you get on your knees right now and put both hands flat on the ground! If anyone lifts a single hand from the deck, you are a confirmed traitor and I will kill you myself!"

Brenda Sho delivered her directive flatly, "All Black Snakes vacate the rooftop immediately, except for my personal bodyguard."

Ashley Hue, the pink-eyed woman, gave a sharp order to her faction, "All Hidden Dragons move inside the restroom facilities right now and wait until I call for you. If anyone attempts to start trouble or draw a weapon inside that room, kill them on the spot."

Tina turned to her detail, "Fire Birds, form a tight defensive perimeter around the gazebo and insulate the leaders."

All four factions executed their commands without drawing down on one another. Naturally, the hidden plants remaining in the crowd knew they were entirely screwed. A couple of them tried to make a desperate move as the clock neared 3 am, but they were swiftly eliminated by their own crews.

I stood there, staring down at the five bodies leaking onto the concrete, my mind replaying the mechanics of the shooting. I smoothly dropped my partial magazines, sliding fresh, full loads into the grips of both HKs.

Tina walked over, stopping right in front of me to inspect my face and the entry tear in my uniform fabric over my stomach. She poked her finger directly against the bullet mark, verifying there was no active bleeding.

"Are you alright?" she asked, her eyes searching mine.

My situational awareness remained high as I scanned the sky. "I always thought that taking a life would make me feel nauseous or full of regret," I said quietly. "But honestly, I don't feel anything at all. I think I might be completely broken inside."

Hearing my philosophical text, she rolled her eyes cutely and jabbed her finger hard right into my fresh abdominal bruise, sending a massive flash of pain straight through my core!

"Fuck, Feng!" I yelled, flinching back. "What the hell are you doing? That hurt like a bitch!"

"When I asked if you were alright, I was inquiring about your physical stability, stupid, not your emotional state," she countered, cutting me off. "Get your head back in the game and stay focused. You can spend your free time questioning life after the ball drops."

She left me standing there speechless, walking over to her travel bag to retrieve her personal handgun.

Although all of these thoughts were passing through my head, my vigilance never wavered for a single second. I holstered my sidearms and pulled up the hotel's video cameras on my screen to see if hostiles were attempting to utilize the internal stairwells or elevators to breach the roof level. Then, the real threat arrived from an entirely different angle.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

The heavy, thudding sound of rotor blades filled the night sky. A white commercial helicopter bearing the corporate logo of Channel 7 News was diving straight toward our coordinates, its powerful high-intensity spotlight washing over the concrete decking.

My grandmaster danger instincts triggered instantly—this setup was entirely wrong. Before Tina could even register the movement, I lunged forward, throwing my body weight into her to shove her down onto the deck beneath me, using my frame as a physical shield as the aircraft yawned to show us its open side door.

"Stay down and hide! Don't look out!" I barked.

The second the words cleared my lips, two men positioned in the open bay of the helicopter—armed with tactical assault rifles—opened fire, spraying a heavy stream of automatic rounds across the rooftop to target the larger clusters of people.

Tina remained completely still beneath me, completely following my command as my weight pinned her against the deck. The moment the initial burst shifted, I scrambled up, executing a dead sprint toward the concrete structure of the elevator banks to secure a higher shooting platform.

During that frantic dash, I hadn't realized that my physical enforcement had pressed her down a bit too closely, even compressing her large chest and leaving her face entirely red with embarrassment. Yeah, she might operate as a ruthless killer who uses seduction to bring down high-society targets, but in reality, she had never experienced that level of raw physical closeness with a guy before. Her brain was completely muddled while she lay there hiding from the gunfire.

Many of the syndicators on the roof were actively returning fire with their handguns, but their accuracy at this range and angle were completely garbage. Still, the incoming fire forced the helicopter shooters to limit their exposure, saving plenty of lives on the deck.

I utilized my advanced agility to execute a series of rapid parkour maneuvers up the vertical face of the elevator bank wall, scaling the concrete structure like Spider-Man until I cleared the top ledge. Securing a higher elevation drastically reduced the range, giving me a clean line of sight down into the aircraft cabin. I could see both gunmen were strapped into their internal safety harnesses so they wouldn't slip out during heavy maneuvers.

The pilot and shooters weren't wearing news uniforms, confirming they had hijacked the media asset specifically for this raid.

Trying to disable an aircraft utilizing standard handguns is an incredibly low-percentage play. The only real tactical methods involve eliminating the pilot or destroying the structural integrity of the tail rotor. But my immediate objective wasn't to down the bird; I just needed to neutralize the active shooters.

I drew both HKs, aligning a weapon on each individual target. I had no intention of conserving ammunition, planning to dump all fifteen rounds from each magazine into their profiles, factoring in that at least half the payload would miss due to the constant kinetic movement of the frame.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

I watched through the muzzle flashes as both targets absorbed between four to seven heavy rounds each, killing them instantly. Their bodies slumped limply against their safety harnesses, their assault rifles slipping from their fingers to plummet down to the streets below. But my luck took a turn.

Just as I was relaxing, thinking the engagement was won, I hadn't anticipated the trajectory of the remaining rounds I had fired into the open door.

One of my stray bullets had ricocheted off the internal housing, ripping straight through the side of the pilot's neck. He was desperately clamping his hand over the arterial spray, attempting to execute an emergency landing to secure medical aid.

The guy was completely done for. But to my horror, as his control inputs failed, the helicopter spun violently in a tight circle, its massive tail assembly swinging around like a pendulum. The rotating blades were tracking straight across the top of the elevator bank structure where I was standing, moving fast enough to turn my body into shredded cheese. Fuckballs!

I executed a blind dive off the concrete roof, my body clearing the ledge a fraction of a second before the rotating metal blades sliced through the empty air right where my legs had been. Thanks to my master-level acrobatics training, I managed to execute a clean tuck-and-roll as I hit the lower deck, completely avoiding instant death. Cold sweat broke out across my forehead; I had genuinely felt the reaper's scythe brush against my neck on that drop.

The compromised helicopter spun out of control, rapidly losing altitude until it crashed hard into the hotel's central decorative fountain in the courtyard below, shattering the masonry and sending torrents of water flooding across the asphalt. Unlike a theatrical film, there was no massive explosion—just a heavy cloud of smoke, mechanical fluids, and debris. The impact had sheared off a portion of the elevator bank's upper roof, but the primary mechanics inside remained functional. Shit, that could have easily been my body.

Jerry Bing walked over to the shattered gap in the eight-foot glass perimeter wall, staring down at the wreckage in the courtyard before turning his eyes back to where I was standing and swapping out my spent magazines.

"Fuck, man," he said, his face completely serious. "How incredibly badass does your shooting profile have to be to systematically bring down a moving helicopter with handguns?"

My cheeks flushed slightly. I knew damn well the pilot hit was a total fluke born of pure dumb luck; I hadn't been aiming for the cockpit at all.

Ashley Hue, the pink-eyed woman, also stepped up to the shattered edge to review the crash site before throwing a strange look in my direction. I could tell that, like me, she possessed high-level martial arts perception. Witnessing an eighteen-year-old display that tier of physical combat mastery alongside elite firearms handling was completely abnormal. Victoria Long's intelligence briefing had been entirely wrong about my capabilities.

Tina walked up to my side, her chest heaving slightly. "That performance was incredible, Rick. I suppose I can forgive you for taking total advantage of my body earlier."

I looked at her, my expression shifting into total confusion and annoyance. "What the fuck are you smoking, woman? Taking advantage of you? Why on Earth would I even want to do that? Do you seriously think I don't already have an amazing home for my little buddy to sleep in?"

Feeling insulted that she wasn't even considered worthy of my physical lust, she pointed a finger straight toward the concrete where I had tackled her.

"You clearly pressed your body weight right against my chest far more than what was operationally necessary back there!"

My eyebrow twitched violently. I gave her a look that made it clear I was about to spank her right in front of the entire syndicate assembly—and not in a sexual way.

"Tina Feng," I said, my voice dead calm. "I am officially going to become the first executive protection specialist in history to shoot his own employer."

Zap! Zap! Zap!

Tina grinned widely, holding up a small hand-stunner near my groin, a blue electrical spark dancing between the prongs.

"Then we will just go down together in mutual destruction, ufufu!" she teased.

"Sigh. I give up, you win," I muttered, shaking my head. "Oh, and make sure to tell your father that my baseline count stands at eight targets eliminated. That brings my bonus compensation to exactly sixteen thousand dollars, he-he!"

The twitch in her eye told me I had officially won the exchange. Looking back over the concrete ledge as the distant wail of police sirens began to echo through the city grid, I offered one last joke.

"News chopper seven down at the Hilton. News at eleven!"

The follow-up municipal police investigation dragged on for hours. Fortunately, this specific part of town didn't fall within Mary's active precinct beat, or I would have been facing an absolute nightmare explaining the hardware. To ensure my legal parameters remained completely secure, I placed a direct call to my new defense lawyer, Nick Soto, who handled the local administration and ensured I didn't spend the morning locked inside a holding cell.