Chapter 110: Beating Up O'Connor
A series of shrill screams echoed behind Ron, but no one on his team showed much reaction—not even ten-year-old Carl. Everyone figured the bastard had it coming.
Carl even walked closer to watch the crew leader getting devoured by fire ants, a twisted sense of satisfaction washing over him: This beats the hell out of messing with neighborhood cats!
The only one showing discomfort was Detective O'Connor: "Isn't this too brutal? It's inhumane. Shouldn't we at least stop the bleeding..."
But nobody else gave a damn about his concerns.
"Inhumane?" Ron got right in O'Connor's face. "You know what they did to KIKI?! If you don't, go ask your handler Jack. He's got all the gory details!"
"But how am I supposed to bring him back?" O'Connor asked, clearly uncomfortable.
"Bring him back?" Ron almost burst out laughing. "You're not trying to drag his corpse back for brownie points, are you? Want me to throw in that truck full of product too?"
"If you're offering..." O'Connor tried to negotiate. He still had a case pending with the Bureau, and Jack had only pulled him back temporarily as a special favor.
If he could complete Jack's assignment, his performance record would definitely get him reinstated with the FBI.
This was different from the original timeline. Thanks to Ron's interference, O'Connor hadn't bonded much with Dom, nor did he feel guilty about hooking up with Dom's sister.
So when Jack ordered him to bring back both Dom and the drugs, he'd hesitated before agreeing.
"Hell no, Boss!" To Ron's surprise, Carl was the first to defend their haul. "You know what this stuff's worth on the street? I'll stake the Gallagher family name on it—at least thirty million bucks!
If we keep it and party ourselves, we'd never finish it all. If you want me to help move it, I can hook you up with my sister Fiona—she's got quite the reputation in our neighborhood."
The freckled kid's eyes lit up with dollar signs as he spoke. Ron smacked him upside the head in disgust.
Whose kid is this? His moral compass is completely screwed! He's pimping out his sister at ten years old?
I hire you as an employee, and you want to be my brother-in-law?!
Lucky for Ron, he'd only met the second-youngest Gallagher. If he'd encountered the others, his worldview would've been completely shattered.
"Go play somewhere else. This ain't your business. Take your pay and scram! And stay away from this stuff. Arthur!" Ron shouted.
This kid was a drone combat expert Ron had found in online gaming communities. He figured anyone good at virtual warfare would excel at real-life drone operations, so he'd had Arthur recruit him.
He was shocked to discover the kid was a minor. If time wasn't so critical, Ron would've refused to employ underage labor.
"Next time this kid shows up for work, give him a drug test. If he's using, he's permanently blacklisted."
"No way!" Little Carl immediately backed off with a panicked expression. Not being able to touch the product was rough, but losing a job that paid good money (Ron was generous) and gave him access to military-grade toys would be devastating.
He was already planning to ask his boss about bringing his whole family along next time.
After dealing with the morally bankrupt kid, Ron turned his attention back to O'Connor, who tensed up under his piercing stare.
"That merchandise means nothing to me, but why should I hand it over to you? You realize if it wasn't for me and my crew taking action, you'd be buzzard food in this desert right now. Want to guess how long it would take your colleagues to find what's left of you?"
"Well..."
O'Connor was speechless under Ron's interrogation. Ron's tone softened slightly: "I'm guessing you want more than just that truckload of product, right?"
"If possible, I want Dom to come back with me." Hearing Ron's mellowed tone, hope flickered in O'Connor's eyes. "Don't worry, I've discussed terms with my superiors. As long as we can close this case, they'll definitely grant Dom immunity!"
"Ha!" Ron turned to Dom. "I honestly don't get how you could almost consider this guy family."
Dom's face darkened and he stayed silent. The FBI's credibility was legendary in the business—and not in a good way. He still hadn't settled accounts with the Bureau for using Letty, though he didn't know it wasn't O'Connor who'd contacted her, but someone else entirely.
"Here's your paycheck." Ron pulled two hundred-dollar bills from his wallet and pressed them into Carl's hands. "Time to head home now."
"Wait!" O'Connor, thinking of his career, gritted his teeth and stepped in front of Ron. "We brought this stuff out together. If you're taking it, you'll have to go through me."
As soon as the words left his mouth, a fist filled O'Connor's vision before he could react. Then everything went black.
Before the pain from his eye could register, Ron delivered a lightning-fast uppercut straight to his gut.
"THWACK!" The sound of flesh meeting flesh accompanied O'Connor doubling over like a shrimp and dry-heaving violently.
"Hell yeah!" Little Carl pumped his fist excitedly, cheering for his new boss. This was way more exciting than the underground boxing matches his brothers took him to in Southside Chicago.
Ron's technique was fast and brutal. Compared to him, his brothers' punches looked like senior citizen water aerobics.
Without realizing it, Ron had become Carl's new role model.
"That's the lamest threat I've heard all week," Ron said, picking his nose casually. "You all heard him! He practically begged me to kick his ass."
Ron felt a surge of satisfaction. He'd been wanting to beat the crap out of O'Connor for ages, but due to his friendship with Dom, he'd stayed away when O'Connor was sniffing around Mia. But the guy was like a persistent fly, always buzzing around her.
Today he finally got his chance, and all he felt was: pure relief!
"Go ask your boss Jack if he's got the balls to talk to me like that." Ron kicked O'Connor in the ribs again, sending him sprawling.
The distant roar of helicopters grew louder. Apparently O'Connor had, at some point, radioed their position to Jack.
Clearly, this was FBI backup arriving.
"Boss, what's the play now?" Carl asked nervously, fully embracing his role as a gangster who'd just ripped off other gangsters.
"What else? We drive and get the hell out of dodge." Ron put Gisele behind the wheel and yanked back the tarp covering his pickup bed, revealing a row of menacing metal tubes.
"Everyone grab an RPG. If those FBI pricks try to jack our score, we light 'em up. I'll take full responsibility."
(End of Chapter)
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