Chapter 9
The remaining wedding guests barely dared to breathe as Xavier Hayes sat comfortably in the ruined ballroom, looking down at his treacherous relatives. The juxtaposition of his immaculate, tailored dark three-piece suit against the bloody, chaotic backdrop of the room only heightened his terrifying authority.
"Help you?" Julian stammered, confused and terrified. "How can we help you? New York thinks you're dead. The assassin was supposed to send a confirmation text once you were down."
"Exactly," Xavier said, a dark, predatory smile touching the corners of his mouth. "Vincent."
Vincent stepped forward, holding the dead Lucchese assassin’s encrypted cell phone in a plastic evidence bag. "We bypassed the lock screen using his thumbprint, Boss. The phone is ready."
Xavier held out his hand. Vincent dropped the phone into his palm. Xavier navigated to the encrypted messaging app. The last message sent from a burner number in New York simply read: 'Is the package secured?'
"Julian," Xavier commanded. "What is the confirmation code?"
Julian clamped his mouth shut, his ruddy skin paling. "If I tell you, they'll know I flipped. They'll hunt me down!"
Xavier didn't shout. He didn't raise his hand. He simply looked at Marcus and gave a microscopic nod.
Marcus stepped behind Julian, grabbed the man’s broken nose with his massive hand, and squeezed.
Julian screamed in absolute agony, thrashing his head against Marcus’s grip. "Okay! Okay! Stop! The code is 'Vase is broken. Flowers are cut.' That means you're dead and we have the drive!"
Marcus released him, stepping back with a look of pure disgust.
Xavier typed the exact phrase into the phone and hit send. He placed the device on a small, unbroken side table and waited. The entire ballroom watched the small screen. Ten seconds later, it buzzed.
A reply appeared: 'Excellent. Extraction team is approaching the perimeter to secure you and the Mercer package. Open the north gate.'
"They have a strike team outside the estate," Vincent realized, his grip tightening on his rifle. "They were waiting to sweep in and clean up the mess."
"Let them come," Xavier said calmly, standing up from his chair. "They think they are walking into a friendly compound. They think their assassin succeeded. We are going to welcome them."
He turned to the huddled guests against the wall. "You will all remain in this room. My men will guard the doors. When the shooting stops, you will be escorted to your vehicles."
Xavier then looked down at Caroline and Julian. "Get them up. Drag them to the north gate. If the New York team wants their inside men so badly, we will hand-deliver them."
Marcus and Vincent hauled the screaming, crying couple to their feet. They dragged them out of the ballroom, their expensive shoes dragging across the marble floor.
May you like
Xavier took a fresh magazine from his jacket pocket, snapping it cleanly into his heavy-caliber pistol. He checked his reflection in a shattered piece of the antique porcelain vase on the floor. His deep ebony skin was flawless, his suit impeccable. He was ready for war.
"Let's go greet our guests," Xavier murmured, stepping out into the hallway and heading toward the front lines.
