Chapter 110
Gabriel's POV
I returned to the desk and quickly sketched out a diagram.
"The San Victor warehouse has relatively weaker defenses. We can exploit the timing gaps in their transport schedule. Every Wednesday night, they move a shipment from Celes Port to San Victor. Early Thursday morning, they redistribute it to various locations. During that window, the warehouse holds the most inventory, but the guards are distracted by loading operations."
"You mean... we move Thursday morning?" Aiden's eyes lit up.
"Exactly. But we don't blow up the warehouse outright—too much noise, would alert the lake district. I want you to install tracking devices and delayed detonation charges inside the arms crates. Once the shipments reach the various outposts—"
"We trigger them all at once." Quincy's lips curved into a cold smile. "That way we don't just destroy their weapons network—we make their clients think the Montague product is faulty. We kill their reputation completely."
"Precisely." I set down my pen. "As for the lake district wine cellars, we have another approach."
I picked up another file containing structural diagrams of the cellar complex.
"The cellar complex has three levels. The first underground level is the wine storage area, open to the public. The second level is the weapons cache, accessible only to core members. The third level is Russell's private vault—cash, gold, and critical documents."
"Our people can't get inside," Aiden said. "The security there is military-grade. Triple authentication. Every level has armed guards."
"So we don't go through the front door." I marked several points on the structural diagram. "The cellar's drainage system connects to the old town's underground sewer network. That's their weakness. We can enter through the sewers, plant directional explosive charges against the third-level vault wall, blow it open, and extract Russell's core assets directly."
"And then what?" Quincy asked. "Once you blow the vault, Russell's going to go even more insane."
"Let him." I gave a cold smile. "I don't want to kill him. I want to strip him of everything—cripple his weapons network, steal his assets, destroy his clients' trust. By the time we're done, even if he wants revenge, he won't have the resources."
I lifted my head, meeting each person's eyes in turn.
"As for Marcus..." My voice dropped lower, my gaze growing colder still.
I walked to the desk, pulled open a drawer, and removed an even thicker file.
"The Nightingale Club in Valencia Old Town." I pointed to the photographs and floor plans inside. "On the surface, it's a high-end private club Marcus invested in. But in reality..."
I flipped to the next page. Detailed internal schematics and surveillance photos came into view.
"The third sublevel is the real core. This is Marcus's command center—black-market deals, intelligence exchanges, arms sales all happen here. He's got his communications system, transaction records, and surveillance network there."
Aiden frowned. "Security there must be airtight."
"It is." I nodded. "On the surface, only a dozen security guards and service staff. But the third sublevel has twenty-four fully armed guards, three security doors requiring password, fingerprint, and facial recognition. Marcus also installed a self-destruct system. If anyone breaches it, the entire floor gets blown to pieces within three minutes. All evidence turns to ash."
"So how do we get in?" Quincy asked.
I circled several locations on the floor plan.
"Every Friday night, the club hosts a 'high-end auction'—that's when Marcus entertains his most important clients. During the auction, the first and second levels will be packed with guests, and half the guards from the third sublevel get reassigned upstairs to maintain order. That's our only window."
"You want us to infiltrate the auction?" Aiden asked.
"Not just infiltrate." I gave a cold smile. "You'll pose as Marcus's clients and bring in an 'auction item.' That item will be a specially designed safe containing explosives and an EMP device."
I marked specific locations on the diagram.
"Once the auction starts, deliver the safe to the 'VIP storage room' on the second sublevel—that's directly above the third level. The EMP device will activate at a preset time, instantly frying every electronic device on the third sublevel, including the self-destruct system."
"And then?"
"Then you use the ventilation ducts to enter the third sublevel while everyone's in chaos." I pointed to the ventilation system. "After the EMP goes off, all electronic locks and surveillance will fail. You'll have five minutes—get into the third sublevel, plant the timed explosives, and extract Marcus's transaction records and client lists. Then get out before the detonation."
I raised my head and looked at them.
"I want the entire third sublevel reduced to rubble in the explosion. Marcus's command center, his communications system, all his evidence—gone."
The office fell silent for a moment.
I walked to the window and looked out at the distant city.
"The explosion will happen after the auction ends. What I want is to destroy Marcus's stronghold, not create unnecessary casualties. Once the guests leave, only Marcus's people will remain on the third sublevel. And then..."
I turned around, my eyes glacial.
"Not one of them walks out alive."
Quincy nodded. "I'll lead the team myself."
I set the file down, my gaze sweeping across each face.
My voice was hard as steel. "You have seventy-two hours to prepare. Friday night, I want to see Marcus's core stronghold reduced to ashes in a single evening."
"Understood." Aiden and Quincy nodded in unison.
"One more thing." I walked to the window and watched the sky gradually brighten. "Increase protection around Isabella. Russell's bounty is already out there. Every mercenary in the underground world will have their eyes on her. I won't allow anything to happen to her."
"Yes, sir."
I turned to face them.
"Go and prepare. Remember—this operation isn't just retaliation. It's a reckoning. I want everyone to understand that anyone who touches what's mine must pay the price of total destruction."
After everyone left, the office settled into silence, broken only by the distant hum of the city waking outside. I stood at the window, watching the city in the morning light, and Isabella's pale face surfaced in my mind.
Marcus wanted to use her. Russell wanted to kill her. Olivia wanted to replace her.
So I would make them understand—
Touch what's mine, and you'd better be prepared to lose everything.
I would personally dismantle their world and let them understand, in their despair, that some people should never be provoked.