Chapter 8: The Enemy of My Enemy
Max sat in the car, the revelation burning in his mind. Kaelen had let them die. He had probably tipped off the Cleaners himself to cash out and retire, only to get caught in the crossfire—or maybe the Syndicate tied up that loose end too.
Max was no longer just a survivor; he was a witness. And he held the keys to the kingdom. The blueprints on the drive showed ventilation shafts, security rotations, and the location of the Vittorio main server room.
He could run. He should run.
But he remembered Jinx, terrified in the backseat. He remembered Silas, saving his life. They were scum, maybe, but they were his scum for a few weeks. They had been sold like cattle.
Max drove to the upscale part of town. He parked outside a jazz club called The Blue Note. It was neutral ground, run by an old mobster named Old Man Russo who had been pushed out by the Vittorios years ago.
Max walked in. The bouncer tried to stop him, but Max flashed the hard drive.
"Tell Russo I have the layout of the Citadel."
Ten minutes later, Max was sitting in a plush booth opposite a man who looked like a dried apple doll in a tuxedo.
"You're a child," Russo rasped.
"I'm a driver," Max corrected. "And I have a map to the heart of the beast that ate your territory."
Russo looked at the laptop screen Max had set up. He squinted. A slow, predatory smile spread across his face. "The Iron Dogs were liquidated. How are you breathing?"
"I drove fast," Max said. "I want to make a deal. I give you this, you give me two things."
"Name them."
"One: A new identity. Passport, cash, a plane ticket to somewhere with no rain."
"And the second?"
"I want to drive the car that puts the bomb in their front door."