The phone call had ended. The request had been made, and Max had agreed to their demands.
He would bring an amount that Jett would be more than happy with, and the person who would arrive from the Billion Bloodline group was Max himself. A location would be sent in the next thirty minutes or so, which gave Max a narrow window to plan how to handle the entire thing.
"Do you want me to get the entirety of the Billion Bloodline group ready for this operation?" Aron asked, voice steady but urgent.
"No." Max replied. "It’s best we keep the group small. Call the Rangers, and we’ll bring Na with us as well.
"With these numbers, they shouldn’t be scared off, but if there are a large amount of them we can deal with them when needed. If there’s too many he might use Sheri as a hostage, or just run away before we even arrive."
Max spoke with the clipped clarity of someone balancing outcomes. He was thinking through angles, what Jett might do, what the Black Hounds might hope to gain. He felt, in a way that was more instinct than thought, that Jett hadn’t attacked the Billion Bloodline group because he knew who Max was or his relation. The notion sat like a pebble under his tongue, possible, but not certain.
It might have been a gang order. But even that felt off; the whole request was strange. There was something odd about the way it had been set up, an edge to it Max couldn’t place. He could feel it without being able to name it. He forced himself to leave that worry for later and to focus on the practical: Sheri, the money, the meeting.
"Wait, what about me?" Darno blurted, overhearing Max as he processed the plan out loud.
"What do you mean, what about you?" Max replied without looking away from the list in his head. "You’ve done what you can to help. We know where her location is. You can head back to the building.
"Besides, I don’t think you did much to help here in the first place."
The words landed blunt and a little colder than Max intended. He had meant to be efficient, not cruel, but the room was full of demand and not much patience. Darno’s shoulders tightened. He had proven his skills earlier, Max had seen it, but in the moment of the raid, he had frozen. It was a fact Max could not ignore.
"But they trashed my car, they hit my head, and they took Sheri right when I was there as well," Darno protested. His voice rose. "I have to go. I have to finish this job. I was just standing around because I knew you had everything covered!"
Max had no time for a long argument. If Darno truly wanted to join, there was no reason to refuse him now; one extra capable person could make a difference.
"Fine," Max said after a beat. "Just follow Na for now and head with him when the time comes."
Darno’s relief was immediate. He squared his jaw and nodded, already moving to prepare himself. He wanted nothing more than to make up for his car, the hit to his head, for letting the woman be taken while he’d been there.
Max, meanwhile, ran through scenarios in his head. Would this turn into a full-out brawl against Jett? Would it escalate into a battle with the entire Black Hounds? There was also the possibility, faint but real, that everything could be resolved peacefully, if only Max could find the single missing piece of the puzzle. He kept that as a plan in pocket: prepare for violence, but buy time for a quieter resolution if an opening appeared.
Jett had stopped with several of the Black Hounds members at an abandoned port. There were no ships docked there any longer; the space had been emptied of its original purpose. Only large stacks of forgotten crates remained, weathered wood splitting at the edges, nails rusting in place. It was perfect for a place that wanted to hide something in plain sight.
The Black Hound members stood guard high on a level above, hunched like birds on the ledges, watching. On the level where all the crates were, more of Jett’s men were spread out on the floor and some even stood atop the stacks. They were looking out in all directions, alert to any movement. There were far more Black Hounds present than the handful that had hit reception, on paper and in practice, the port held more of them now.
In total across the area there were around fifty of them. A small drop compared to their true size, a concentrated force meant to hold this place and make it difficult for rescuers to move quietly.
"What is this?" Jett said into the phone as he walked with Sheri and Anton. Sheri’s hands were bound behind her back and one of the members kept a firm hold on her. Anton walked with them, annoyance and fear both written on his face.
"I told you I didn’t need you to get involved like this, but just to cover my back," Jett added. His words were casual enough, but they had a hard edge. He had wanted a plan and a backup, not a spectacle.
"Isn’t it your fault that our entire business is in shambles right now?" Vivian’s voice came through the speaker, agitated, sharp. "Is this your way of solving the issue, and for what?"
"Believe me, it will be worth it in the end of all this," Jett said. "I’ll pay you for your little troubles, don’t worry about that." He ended the call with a small, half-confident laugh, then kept walking.
At one of the open crates, a Black Hound member shoved Sheri inside, the wood echoing as the lid opening swallowed her small form. Anton, without hesitation, followed and was pushed in after her. For a second the air smelled of dust and oil and the metallic tang of the port. It felt cramped and final.
"Now it’s best you stay here while I sort out the ins and outs of this deal, all right?" Jett said, voice low as he closed the crate enough to make the space dim. The words were meant to reassure, or perhaps to assert control.
"Wait, but what about me?" Anton protested. "Who’s going to protect me if you’re going out there? Can’t you just do the deal in front of me?"
"No," Jett replied sharply. "The deal was: get money, and beat up the red head, not to protect you. If you want that, it’s going to cost a lot more, and believe me, with how big this entire situation has turned out, your fee has already grown incredibly large."
He paused a beat, as if savoring the weight of that statement, then added, almost with a shrug, "It seems that whoever this Sheri person is, they are quite important to the Billion Bloodline group."