— “Security shifts at midnight. The two new guys are usually alert for the first couple of hours, then they slack off. There are cameras, but half of them are out. They’re cutting corners on everything.”
Gray got the fuel cans ready. Gus prepared some homemade incendiaries. Andrew checked everything and nodded.
— “We move at 2:00 AM. They’ll be asleep by then.”
They headed out at 1:30 AM. Two cars—the van and an old sedan. They approached the site from the woods where the fence was lower. Andrew, Gray, Gus, and Lee—four men in black, gloves, and masks—moved silently over the fence.
The guards were indeed dozing. One was in the shack; the other had stepped out for a smoke but was looking at his phone. Gray approached from behind and neutralized him. Gus took the one in the shack through the window, fast and clean. Both were zip-tied, gagged, and locked in the shack.
Andrew looked around. The site was huge. Three cranes to the left, cement mixers and excavators to the right. In the center was the warehouse for cement, rebar, and lumber. Further back were the unfinished shells of the buildings—five stories of bare concrete.
— “Gus, you take the machinery. Douse the cabs, the tanks, and light them up. Lee, you take the warehouse; set the charges. Gray, you’re with me—the buildings.”
They split up.
Gus worked quickly. He doused the cabs of the excavators and mixers and set them ablaze. The fire caught instantly, yellow flames licking upward. Plastic melted, rubber smoked. Within a minute, the machinery was a row of torches. Lee set the charges in the warehouse—four devices in the corners with five-minute timers. He lit the fuses and ran back.
Andrew and Gray doused the wooden scaffolding around the buildings. The fire spread fast, climbing the upper floors. The unfinished walls began to smoke, the wood crackling and collapsing.
Within three minutes, the whole site was on fire. Flames shot into the sky, smoke billowing. Andrew whistled—the signal to retreat.
They ran for the fence, scrambled over, and got into the cars. They were gone a minute before the warehouse exploded. The blast was so loud the ground shook. The shockwave leveled the warehouse walls, debris flying for hundreds of yards.
They stopped a mile away and looked back. The site was a towering inferno. Sirens were wailing in the distance. The fire department was on its way, but it was too late. Everything was destroyed.
Gray smirked:
— “Bennett’s about to find out what a real loss feels like.”
Andrew nodded silently. They headed home.
The next morning, Stan Bennett arrived at the site. He saw the ruins and nearly collapsed. The machinery was charred husks. The warehouse was a crater. The buildings were scorched and structurally unsound. The damage was in the tens of millions. Insurance wouldn’t cover half of it. He stood among the ruins, staring at the smoking debris. He knew—it was Sullivan. The revenge had reached a new level. It wasn’t about the kids anymore; it was about him. His business—his life.
Bennett pulled out his phone and called Miller and Owens. His voice was shaking:
— “He burned my site. Destroyed everything. We have to stop him. Now. At any cost.”
That same evening, Andrew’s phone rang again. Miller—his voice was hard:
— “Sullivan, we had a deal. You broke it.”
Andrew smirked:
— “You broke it. You sent hired guns to threaten me. I just responded.”
Miller was silent for a moment.
— “Fine. We meet one more time. The last time. We settle this once and for all. Either peace or blood. Your choice.”
Andrew agreed:
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