He jogged toward the commotion, the gunfire having ceased now that no one else was dashing from the crumbled remains of the store. If they hadn’t caught a bullet, they were certainly suffocating under the debris. The thought drew a smile.
The bodies lay scattered about the desert ground, and the first one Justin approached was already dead. But it wasn’t Mario. He checked the two nearest, finding one with a face smeared in blood and soot, another gurgling on his own blood while gazing blankly to the sky, not even seeing Justin over him. Neither man was Mario, so he moved on to the next body and found his guy.
“Mr. Webster,” Justin said with a grin, waving to the others waiting nearby. They had instructions to clear the bodies from the scene by tossing them into the rubble which would soon be doused with kerosene for a final cremation of the store’s remains.
“You motherfuckers,” Mario said through gritted teeth, his strong voice catching Justin off guard. He writhed on the ground, blood streaming from his left arm and right leg.
“Lucky man,” Justin said, squatting beside Mario’s wounded arm, knowing he had no strength to make a move on him. “You catch two bullets and not one seems to have sliced through an organ or artery. Maybe we’ll pack you in a box and drop you at the doorstep in Idaho. How does that sound?”
Mario smiled, his teeth shiny against his ashy skin. “You’re fucked. You just signed the death warrants for all of your people here. Do you really think Chris is going to turn the cheek after you blew up his most prized building?”
Justin reared back a fist and slammed it into Mario’s left temple, earning a satisfying groan as his head bobbed from side to side. He knelt closer to Mario, lowering his lips within an inch of his ear. “I don’t give a shit about Chris,” he said. “Your old man is on his last leg. Do you think we would knock this building down for fun? The end of this war is coming, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”
Mario rolled his head back to meet Justin’s eyes, lips pursed before spitting on his face.
Justin snickered and wiped off the spittle with his arm. “I’ll consider that a parting gift. Any last words you want us to relay to Chris?”
“I’ll see you in hell,” Mario snarled.
“Understood.”
Justin stood up, pistol still clenched in his grip and aimed it at Mario’s stomach, pulling the trigger and walking away.
The entire team loaded back into the trucks, minus Sergio, who would fly the chopper back to Salt Lake City. The first domino had officially fallen in their mission to kill Chris. Justin only hoped things played out as smoothly in Chicago.
Chapter 5
Chris had called Thaddeus and requested an in-person meeting. He couldn’t gauge the seriousness of Duane’s accusations and wanted to read Thad for himself.
The two leaders agreed to meet at a downtown cafe in Cheyenne, Wyoming, a middle point between their residences in Idaho and Iowa.
“Mr. Hamilton,” Chris greeted upon entering, two guards waiting outside. “Thank you so much for meeting me.”
“Always an honor, Chris,” Thad said, standing up to shake hands with the Keeper of Time. “What is this about?”
They chose a corner booth away from the other patrons chomping down their breakfast and coffee. “I wanted to check in with you. Matters have certainly escalated between us and the Road Runners. Plus it’s been a few weeks since the Liberation officially formed their own leadership. Is there anything else you need help with? I’m here for you.”
“It’s been fun,” Thaddeus said, chuckling. “A stressful sort of fun, but we’re making strides. We’re solid financially, but the issues we’re running into are about structuring our organization. We obviously have exposure and experience with both the Revolution and Road Runners, and are trying to pull the best from both worlds. We’ve had debates about forming a Council with checks and balances, and also if there should be a line of succession below me.”
“Checks and balances will make your life a living hell,” Chris said. “You deserve to rule as you please, don’t you agree?”
Chris was drooling on the inside, Thaddeus giving him a grand opportunity to pick his mind regarding what exactly he wanted out of his role as the leader of the Liberation.
“Well, sure, that would be nice, but I don’t have the luxury of invincibility like yourself. If I make a decision that my organization doesn’t like, they can come and take me out.”
Chris waved a hand as he grinned. “Thaddeus, you’re the leader—you make the rules, you set your security in place. You can have a wall of guards around you at all times if you want. No one can lay a finger on you. This is a unique opportunity to build your organization from the ground up. Don’t make the same mistakes as the Road Runners and try to be fair. One thing I’ve learned since becoming the Keeper of Time is that people will respect you for the sole reason of your position. People are brainwashed to respect titles, plain and simple. If you’re the leader, you can refuse to listen to anyone else’s ideas and structure things the way you want. Sometimes you just have to put your dick on the table and let people deal with it.”
“How does being the Keeper of Time work? Is it something you can make in your lab and share? Have you ever considered splitting that power with others close to you?”
“Are you suggesting yourself?” Chris asked, cocking an eyebrow. Are you trying to slip into the most powerful position in the world? he wondered.
“I’m just curious how
