7: Peril at Every Turn
Volume Summary: During the rescue of Isabella, Jack uncovers a deeper conspiracy behind Richard. He realizes that what he faces is not just personal revenge, but a far more dangerous power struggle. He must proceed with caution to protect himself and those close to him.
Chapter 9: Old John's Prophecy
The air inside the warehouse was thick with the smell of rusted metal and damp mold, almost suffocating. Jack leaned against the cold wall of a shipping container, his back pressed tightly to it. Isabella stood beside him, breathing heavily—clearly exhausted from their desperate escape. A circle of men in black surrounded them, forming an impenetrable barrier that cut off any hope of escape.
"Looks like we've hit a rough patch," Jack said quietly, though his voice remained steady. His eyes scanned the armed figures around them, searching for any possible opening.
"Jack… there are too many of them…" Isabella whispered, her voice trembling. The presence of death felt too close, and fear gripped her heart.
Jack gently patted her hand and gave her a reassuring look. "Don't be afraid, Isabella. I won't let them hurt you."
One of the men stepped forward, a cigarette dangling from his lips. Smoke obscured his face, but not the cruel glint in his eyes. "Jack, you're smart—but smart people usually die first. Come quietly, and save yourself some pain."
"Richard wants to see me?" Jack scoffed. "If he has something to say, let him say it here. I'm done having anything to do with him."
"That's not your call to make." The man exhaled a long stream of smoke, smirking. "Boys—get them!"
At once, the attackers surged forward, swinging clubs and brandishing knives. Jack shoved Isabella behind him and ducked under a wild swing. He countered with a sharp kick to his attacker's knee, sending the man crumpling to the ground with a cry.
Before he could recover, another blow struck his back. Gritting his teeth through the pain, Jack grabbed the attacker's club and swung it back, knocking the man unconscious.
Though weak and shaken, Isabella refused to be helpless. She picked up a broken brick and slammed it into one of the assailants' heads. Blood poured as the man collapsed, howling in pain.
But they were outnumbered. One after another, the attackers came, like a relentless tide. Jack and Isabella were pushed further back, their strength waning. Jack could feel blood soaking through his shirt, the wounds on his body burning with every movement.
Just as capture seemed inevitable, a deep roar of an engine shattered the chaos.
A black SUV burst through the warehouse doors like a beast unleashed, barreling through the crowd and sending bodies flying in all directions.
The vehicle screeched to a halt. The door flew open, and Donny stepped out, holding a shotgun and wearing his usual devil-may-care grin.
"Well now, Jack—you seem to need a little help!" Donny shouted before firing a deafening blast from his shotgun.
BOOM!
The explosion of sound sent the attackers scattering in panic.
"What are you waiting for? Get in!" Donny barked at them.
Jack didn't hesitate. Supporting Isabella, he rushed toward the vehicle and climbed inside.
With a stomp on the gas, the SUV roared out of the warehouse and vanished into the night.
As the car sped through Brooklyn's streets, Jack glanced out the rear window. The men were still giving chase, but no foot soldier could match the speed of a roaring SUV.
"Thanks, Donny," Jack muttered, his voice strained.
"No problem," Donny shrugged. "Though this one's going to cost you. Those guys weren't exactly amateurs. If I hadn't come prepared, we might've both ended up six feet under tonight."
"Money's not an issue," Jack replied. "Just keep us safe."
Donny smirked, saying nothing. He knew Jack had the funds—but whether they could truly escape Richard's grasp was another question entirely.
The vehicle drove through the darkness for what felt like hours before finally pulling up to a modest-looking apartment building.
"This place should be safe—for now," Donny said. "It belongs to a friend who's out of town. You can stay here a few days, then figure out your next move."
Jack nodded and helped Isabella out of the car. His body ached, and fatigue was setting in fast.
Inside the apartment, Donny showed them to a room, left some food and medical supplies, and then disappeared.
Jack helped Isabella onto the bed. He looked at her pale face, guilt weighing heavily on his chest.
"I'm sorry, Isabella. I dragged you into all of this," he said softly.
She shook her head and took his hand. "Don't say that, Jack. I know you did it for me. And I don't regret being by your side."
Jack held her hand tightly, overwhelmed by emotion. He knew she was the most important person in his life.
"Rest now," he whispered. "Everything will get better."
Isabella nodded and closed her eyes.
Jack walked over to the window, pulled back the curtain, and stared into the dark night outside.
He knew Richard wouldn't stop hunting them. He needed a plan—and fast.
Suddenly, a memory surfaced—a conversation with Old John.
"Jack, life is like a chessboard. Every move must be made carefully. Your enemy is powerful, but he has weaknesses. Find them—and strike when the time is right."
Old John's words struck him like lightning.
Weaknesses… What was Richard's weakness?
Jack sifted through everything he knew about Richard. Greedy. Selfish. Ruthless. Willing to do anything to win.
But none of that was a true weakness.
Then, a name surfaced in his mind.
Kevin.
Kevin was Richard's most trusted assistant, his closest ally. But he was also ambitious—always eager to step into Richard's shoes.
Perhaps Kevin was the key.
Jack made his decision. He would start with Kevin—and unravel Richard's entire scheme.
He took a deep breath, feeling a new fire ignite within him.
This time, he wouldn't wait for danger to find him.
This time, he would take the fight to Richard.
And he would show everyone who ever doubted him—that even a man who crawled out of hell can rise again—to the top.