Page 54 of Rebel

“You got a better idea how to hit the Morettis across all their locations simultaneously?”I asked.

Gator didn’t answer.He didn’t need to.We both knew the math.From what Shade had found, the Morettis had expanded aggressively in the last six months, pushing into territory that belonged to both us and the Bratva.Rio showing up on our doorstep had pushed up our timeline.I’d planned to take my time figuring this shit out when Charming had asked for my help.Separately, neither of us had the numbers to hit back effectively.Together?We could send a message written in blood.

Twenty minutes later, the door to the meeting room swung open.Charming emerged first, his expression grim but determined.Dmitri followed, immediately flanked by two of his men as if they’d been waiting for precisely this moment.

“We move out tonight,” Dmitri announced, his voice cutting through the room.No preamble, no explanation.Just the directive, delivered with absolute authority.

Charming nodded.“Four targets, simultaneous hits.We split into teams -- mixed groups, our guys and theirs on each team.”

“Four?”Ripper asked.“Thought there were three.”

Charming sighed.“Anatoly put his tech people on the issue.Found another location in our area.”

I noticed the slight twitch in Ripper’s jaw at that.None of us liked the idea of splitting up our strength, but the strategy made sense.Keep the Russians divided so they couldn’t turn on us, while ensuring each strike team had enough firepower.

“My men have the heavy weapons,” Dmitri added.“Your local knowledge guides us to the targets.”

Charming’s eyes found mine.“Rebel, you’re with Team Two -- the warehouse district.Havoc leads Team One at the docks.Jackal, you’re on Team Three, hitting their distribution center.I’ll take Team Four to their local headquarters.”

I nodded, already mentally cataloging what I’d need.My AR-15, my Glock, two knives, extra ammunition, night vision if we had it to spare.The warehouse district was a maze of abandoned buildings and blind corners -- perfect for ambushes.

“Each team has four hours to prepare,” Dmitri said.“My men will brief you on communication protocols.No phones once we leave.No messages that could be intercepted.”

The reality of what we were about to do settled over the room.This wasn’t a skirmish or a warning.This was a coordinated attack to eliminate the Moretti presence completely.

One of Dmitri’s men approached me, tall and solid with a face that had taken more than a few hits in its time.His eyes were dark, assessing.

“You ride point with me,” he said, his accent thicker than Dmitri’s.“I am Alexei.You know the streets, yes?”

“Every pothole and blind alley,” I confirmed.

He nodded once, apparently satisfied.“Good.You will need this.”He handed me a small device that looked like a watch.“Communication.Secure channel.Press here for team, here for all teams.”

I strapped it to my wrist, feeling the weight of it.More than just a device -- it was commitment.Once we started, there would be no backing out.

Around me, the clubhouse transformed into a staging area.Weapons appeared from hidden compartments.Maps were spread across tables.The Russians produced equipment I’d only seen in military documentaries -- thermal imaging, signal jammers, armor-piercing rounds.

Charming and Dmitri stood at the center of it all, two leaders with different styles but aligned purposes.Charming caught my gaze again and beckoned me over.

“You good with this?”he asked quietly when I reached him.

“All in,” I replied.“The Morettis crossed lines they can’t uncross.”

“Once we start, we finish it completely,” Charming said.“No survivors, no witnesses, no trace leading back to us.”

I nodded.“Understood.”

Dmitri’s cold gaze assessed me.“Your President says you know the warehouse district better than anyone.”

“Used to live there,” I said.“Before I joined the club.”

Something that might have been approval flickered in his expression.“Then you are valuable tonight.Do not waste yourself on unnecessary risks.”

Coming from him, it was practically a warm embrace.I nodded again, more to Charming than to Dmitri.“I’ll get it done.”

As I turned to prep my gear, I felt the energy in the room shift.The usual club chaos had transformed into something focused and lethal.We were hunters now, gathering our weapons, checking our armor.Four hours to prepare.Then we’d paint the town red with Moretti blood.

I caught my reflection in a window -- eyes hard, mouth set in a grim line.I barely recognized myself.But then, nights like this weren’t about who we were in the daylight.They were about who we needed to become in the darkness.

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