Blow up the empire
1357 Words
“David, open up. It’s Xavier. Come on, it’s morning already.”
David exhaled through his nose, handgun still in hand. He cracked the door first, chain on, then unlatched it when he saw Xavier’s face.
Lena pushed past him the second the gap widened, laptop already open in her arms.
“Gunfight on the Dolphin Expressway last night,” she said without preamble, still talking. “Two black SUVs totaled. One flipped, one burned. We rolled up an hour ago. Bodies everywhere and there was one little girl’s shoe in the back seat, size seven, pink laces. Thought you should know.”
David’s jaw locked.
Xavier stepped in next, Marcus Hale and Riley Chen right behind him. All three in tactical polos and windbreakers: FBI raid gear. Two more agents stayed outside with the black Suburbans, engines idling.
Marcus gave the room a once-over. “Nice safe house. Smells like hotel soap and bad decisions.”
Riley smirked. “And regret.”
David closed the door. “Lena please talk.”
Lena set her laptop on the table, fingers already flying. “We pulled traffic cams. The chase started near the port. Elena Torres’s crew ambushed a vehicle linked to Victor Salazar who is one of Aragua’s street chiefs. Salazar’s dead. Burned beyond recognition. But the girl… she was in the back seat of the lead SUV. Alive when our team got there. Then someone took her. Clean extraction.”
David’s voice was low. “Who?”
Lena hesitated just a half-second too long. “Unknown. But I’ve got leads. Two drug houses, both tied to heavy movement in the last forty-eight hours. Product in, cash out. If your daughter’s being moved, she’ll pass through one of these. Hit them, flush the players. Someone will talk.”
Xavier crossed his arms. “You got addresses?”
Lena nodded, pulling up satellite images. “First one’s a warehouse off 79th Street, it used to be a seafood distributor. Second’s a storage unit in Hialeah. Both have armed security, cameras, the works. But they’re sloppy. We go in hard, we can burn the product before they move it.”
Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Burn? We seizing or torching?”
“Both,” David said before Lena could answer.
Riley chuckled. “There he is. Same old Wick. Blow s**t up first, ask questions later.”
Xavier shot him a look. “You remember that op in Basra? You blew the ammo dump before we even cleared the perimeter.”
David’s mouth twitched. “Saved your ass when the mortars started falling.”
Marcus laughed low. “Yeah, and you still owe me for the new boots I had to buy after you turned the place into a bonfire.”
Lena glanced up from her screen, smiling faintly. “You guys always this nostalgic, or is it just when someone’s trying to kill us?”
Riley grinned. “Wait till you see him in action again. Man’s a walking war crime.”
David ignored them, eyes on Lena’s map. “What else?”
Lena zoomed in. “These two spots are linked to a recruiter, someone who moves kids. If Miranda’s still in the pipeline, she’ll go through one. We hit hard, we get intel. Fast.”
Xavier studied her. “You sound sure.”
“I’ve been tracking Aragua chatter for months,” Lena said smoothly. “These are good targets. Trust me.”
Inside her head, Lena’s pulse hammered. *Javier owes me sixty grand from that last data drop. Cripple his houses, force him to surface. I get paid, they get their girl. Win-win.*
She didn’t mention Javier’s name to them.
Marcus cracked his knuckles. “When?”
“Tonight,” David said. “We wait till dark.”
Xavier nodded. “Gear up. We roll at 2200.”
The room filled with the low hum of preparation. They all had their magazines checked, comms tested, vests strapped.
Then the bathroom door opened.
Micah stepped out, her hair was damp now, wrapped in one of David’s spare T-shirts that fell to mid-thigh. She froze when she saw the room full of armed FBI agents.
David moved quickly and stepped in front of her, blocking the view.
“Go back inside,” he said quietly. “Wait for me.”
She nodded, eyes wide, and retreated.
Xavier whistled low. “Damn, Wick. You holding out on us?”
Marcus smirked. “She’s fine as hell. You smashing that yet?”
Riley elbowed him. “Bro, have some class.”
David shot them a hard look “Watch your mouth.”
Marcus raised both hands. “Easy, killer. Just saying, she looks like trouble. The good kind.”
David didn’t answer. But the words lodged somewhere deep. Micah recalled the soft skin, fierce eyes, the way she’d hugged him in the club like he was the only safe thing left in the world.
He wanted her so bad. And that scared him more than any gunfight.
.
David stepped into the bedroom.
Micah sat on the edge of the bed, knees together, fingers twisting the hem of his shirt.
He closed the door softly. She looked up.
David crossed to her, knelt so they were eye-level. He took her left arm, gently checked the bandage he’d put on earlier.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yeah. Just… a lot of people with guns in the kitchen.”
He gave a small, tired smile. “They’re friends. Old ones.”
Micah searched his face. “You trust them?”
“With my life,” he said. “Not always with my secrets.”
She swallowed. “And me?”
David lifted his hand slowly and brushed his thumb across her cheek.
“You’re different,” he said quietly.
Their eyes held. He leaned in, pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and lingered in the act.
“I’m going out tonight,” he said against her skin. “You stay here. Lock the doors. Don’t open for anyone and please don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back.”
Micah’s fingers curled into his shirt. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
He stood. She watched him go, and when the door clicked shut, David exhaled hard in the hallway.
Xavier clapped him on the shoulder. “You good?”
David nodded once. “Let’s move.”
.
The first drug house was a squat warehouse off 79th, chain-link fence, rusted sign that once read “Seafood Distributors,” now just bullet holes and graffiti.
They hit at 23:17.
David went in first wearing his black tactical gear, suppressed M4, night-vision down. Xavier and Marcus flanked left. Riley and Lena on overwatch with drones and comms as they followed.
“Two on the roof,” Lena’s voice in their ears. “Armed. AKs.”
David signaled.
Marcus took the shot, a silent c***k, bringing one down. Then the second. They breached the side door.
Gunfire erupted inside. David moved in in precise short bursts. Two men dropped before they could raise their weapons.
“Clear left!” Xavier called.
More came from the back, about six, automatic fire chewing the walls. David rolled behind a stack of crates, returned fire. Headshot. Center mass. Another down.
Marcus tossed a flash-bang. A white light shines and screams followed, then David advanced, three more fell.
Lena’s voice: “Product’s in the center room. Kilos stacked. Millions.”
David kicked the door in.
Cocaine bricks, pallet after pallet, shrink-wrapped, labeled as fish meal.
He stared for half a second. Then pulled an incendiary grenade.
Lena’s voice spiked. “David—wait! We can seize all of th—”
Before she could finish, he yanked the pin of one of his grenade and threw it. The grenade rolled between the pallets. Flame bloomed white-hot on the pallets of cocaine.
Cocaine burned fast, acrid smoke, crackling plastic, millions turning to ash. Outside, Marcus laughed over comms. “There he goes again. Always gotta burn something.”
David stepped back as the fire roared. He didn’t smile, but the heat felt good to him.
- Writer
