“To protect the citizens you will soon lead.” He just about made it to the door when Villanueva’s voice stopped him.

  “Wait…did you ever find William’s killer?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Are you close?”

  “We’ll find out tomorrow.”

  ***

  Before Tony even reached the porch, the thick front doors swung open to Tony’s castle-like manor. On either side of the entrance stood two well-dressed servants, their eyes fixated straight ahead. Tony swiftly walked past his servants and into the manor’s foyer with two large, suited bodyguards following closely behind.

  A young maid walked into the foyer to greet her boss. She quickly made her way to him with a sealed envelope on a silver tray. She raised the tray a little higher to give it to him, but he kept his hands behind his back as he unemotionally stared at her face.

  “What is this?” he asked with a demanding tone.

  “It was left for you, sir.”

  “From whom?” His tone still slightly intimidated the young maid.

  “A—a man who works for Marcos Alberto.”

  Tony raised his eyebrow in suspicion before picking up the envelope from the tray and inspecting it to see if it had been opened. Satisfied that the envelope was in fact still sealed, he sent the maid away with a quick wave of his hand.

  The maid hastily made her departure as Tony turned and walked toward the manor’s opulent circular staircase. Making his way up the stairs, he kept his eyes on the envelope wondering what could possibly be inside. One of his bodyguards followed behind him, while the other stayed at the bottom of the staircase. Within a few moments, he arrived at the top of the staircase and was headed towards the master bedroom. Going past the portraits and paintings that dotted the brightened hallway, he came to his destination and motioned for his bodyguard to stay outside.

  Without waiting another moment, he tore open the envelope and reached into pull out its contents. There was only one thing inside: one picture.

  Tony flipped it over to see what it was.

  His heart skipped a beat.

  With a few swift moves, Tony ripped up the picture before opening the door to get his bodyguard’s attention. SoMarcos had resorted to blackmail? The man was finally learning how to use his teeth.

  Marcos was about to learn that Tony knew how to bite back—hard.

  ***

  Marcos was sitting at his office desk, nervously anticipating the phone call, when his assistant walked into the room. He was unable to concentrate on anything for the past few hours. Instead, he found himself aimlessly staring at his phone, knowing that the phone call would soon come.

  “Mr. Alberto, there’s a call for you on line one.”

  “Thanks, Paul.”

  Marcos took a deep breath, then reached over and picked up the receiver as he pressed the button for line one. “Yes?”

  “Mr. Alberto, my boss would like a word with you.”

  So he’d had his subordinate call. An obvious show of power. “Put him on.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  There was a long silence that caused Marcos’s heart to slightly speed up in anticipation. Then Tony’s voice came on the line.

  “Marcos—my friend. I received your card.”

  “I hope you received the message too.”

  Tony chuckled. “Haven’t you grown up into a brave young man? Sending cards like this is what gets you enemies.”

  “I have plenty of enemies. One more won’t make a difference.”

  “Perhaps. But I think you’ll find out that I’m an enemy that is hard to best, let alone beat. Even if you do have a bite.”

  “I think you’ll find that I bite hard.”

  “Not hard enough, I’m afraid.” There was a short silence. “I suppose if I don’t agree with your position, you plan on making this—this—well, secret, I guess you could call it. I suppose you plan on making this secret not a secret anymore.”

  “You’re a good guesser,” Marcos responded sarcastically.

  “I’m good at a lot of things. Some of them are not very pleasant.”

  “Save the threats. I don’t think Mr. Patel would take the photo of you and his wife too kindly. He wouldn’t even give you the chance to act on your threats. You’d be too busy begging for mercy.”

  Following his words, there was a silence. For a moment, Marcos thought that he had won. “And what do I need to do to keep this secret…a secret?”

  “Agree with the Revolution’s decision, and don’t be a hindrance. Just give the new government your support and stay out of the way. We already have enough problems to deal with.”

  There was another silence, but it did not last long. It ended with the sound of Tony’s low laugh. “You really do amuse me, Marcos.”

  “If you don’t think I’ll go through with—”

  “No Marcos, I don’t think you’ll go through with it. Not because you don’t have the guts. You’ve already shown that you do. You won’t go through with it because you haven’t thought this through. You think you’ve trapped me in a corner. You think that you’ve won. But the truth is that you’re just as far from victory as you’ve ever been. I still hold the winning hand!”

  Marcos was silent.

  “And one other thing—one very important thing you’ve forgotten about.”

  “What’s that?”

  “If anything happens to me, my people know to withdraw any support for the new government. My people are loyal, more loyal than you know. And without their support, the government crumbles and you still lose.”

  Hearing those words, Marcos’s heart burned with a fury, but he kept silent.

  “Releasing this photo won’t give you any victory. All it will do is guarantee your certain and imminent doom,” Tony’s words were filled with mocking disdain. “It looks like it’s time for you to go back to the drawing board. Why don’t you call another emergency meeting with the boys and have a little brainstorming session. Once you all realize that every course of action needs me, give me a call.”

  Marcos was about to hang up the phone, but Tony’s final words stopped him.

  “And the next time you try and bite me, remember that I’m the bigger dog.”

  Chapter 17

  Not a Man of Words

  Wearing his worn out, black sports coat, Adam walked down the cracked sidewalk and towards his new job. His head was held high and his heart was beaming with excitement. There was an extra spring in his step. He felt a confidence in his posture that had not been there before.

  On his feet was a brand new pair of nice brown dress shoes that he would have never dreamed of owning before his new job. On his wrist was a brand new watch he bought two days ago. In his wallet, which usually only held loose change or nothing at all, were two crisp twenty dollar bills.

  Under the bright sun and with his hands in his pockets, he headed down the empty road only a few blocks from Crown City’s bustling downtown. A few days ago, he heard Villanueva on a radio talk show promise to reinstate a city-run bus system after the election. It would come as a relief to people, like Adam, after the previous president has closed it down due to high maintenance costs.

  Coming to a rusty, metal chain fence that separated the sidewalk from a run-down basketball court, Adam walked alongside it as he continued to go down the footpath…

  But he suddenly stopped.

  “You’re going to regret ever knowing us, Jerry! You ungrateful rat!”

  Adam whirled his head to look across the fence and toward the direction of two men beating on a helpless man.

  “After everything we’ve done for you! You worthless piece of dirt!”

  One of the two men held their victim from behind while the other raised his fist. Streams of blood ran down the beaten man’s body and soaked his clothing.

  “You think you can just leave? After all we’ve done for you! After we let you join our family. We brought you in and now—now you want out?!”

  Jerry was struck in
the mouth, spitting out blood. And then in the gut.

  “Nobody leaves us!”

  Jerry tried to kneel over after the last blow, but was roughly held back from doing so.

  “Unless you’re dead!” The thug struck Jerry across the face once more. “Just like you’re gonna be!” His fist crashed into Jerry’s stomach. “After I cut you up into little pieces and drop you off on your new girlfriend’s front door!”

  The first thing Adam’s mind told him to do was run. Every fiber in his mind told him to run the other way. There was nothing he could do. Those two men were bigger, stronger, and probably armed. He would get himself killed.

  …but he did not flee. His heart would not let him retreat. It would not let him turn a blind eye. What was the use of speaking and marching against evil if he himself didn’t take action against it? He would not be a man of mere words.

  Without wasting another moment, Adam found himself leaping over the fence, leaving his coat dangling on it. Racing across the court, his eyes filled with anger as he saw both men mercilessly beating on the much smaller victim.

  Coming from behind them, Adam lowered his shoulders and rammed into the tattooed thug with an angry roar. A loud thud echoed as their bodies powerfully collided before the goon collapsed onto the concrete with a loud groan.

  Right as the thug fell, Adam turned and punched the other brute in the face, forcing him to let go of Jerry. As the thug stagger backwards, Adam’s fist smashed into the man’s face once more.

  Adam rushed the thug again, but the man regained his senses. He easily swatted Adam’s fist away before striking Adam square in the jaw, causing him to let out a cry as he stumbled backwards.

  The thug came at Adam, angry and cursing. Adam barely dodged the first two wild swings, feeling them miss him my mere inches. But the third powerful blow caught him in the stomach. A fourth fierce blow cross-faced him, his vision momentarily blurring. A fifth hit him across the face once more, causing everything to go black for a quick instant. Adam spat out blood.

  Seizing the moment, the smaller of the two thugs landed a powerful and merciless kick on Adam’s backside. His boot dug into Adam’s spine, sending Adam sprawling onto the ground. His head collided against the concrete. Adam’s body went numb for a few moments, and his vision blurred to a point where he could not make anything out for several seconds. All he could feel was blood streaming down his face.

  “Finish Jerry. I’ll handle this loser!” The smaller thug motioned to his counterpart.

  With a nod, the larger thug looked back at the nearly-unconscious Jerry, still lying on the ground. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a switchblade as he menacingly walked toward him.

  Looking away from Jerry, Adam focused on his own aggressor. He slowly and weakly crawled onto all fours. The thug coming for Adam now wore brass knuckles on his left hand. He devilishly smiled at Adam as his hand formed into a fist. “You should’ve known to mind your own business, punk! Now you’re gonna learn the hard way.”

  Adam felt the stream of blood soak into his collar. He heard the menacing taunts from his attacker. He watched as his would-be-killer came closer and closer with every step. There was nothing he could do. No plan of action he could use to overpower these men.

  But that would not stop him from fighting.

  The thug came right above him and raised his fist. Adam closed his eyes and lunged into the thug with strength he did not know he possessed, spearing the man to the ground. Adam then leapt to his feet and raced toward the other thug. The goon turned around hearing the quick footsteps, but it was too late. Adam’s fist powerfully smashed into the man’s face right between the eyes. The goon stumbled, falling onto his back.

  As they slowly regained their senses and rose to their feet, neither gangster could fathom what had just happened. And when they saw what was in front of them, they did not believe their eyes.

  Adam was crouched over Jerry’s bleeding body. His hands were clenched in fists of rage. His heart pounded like there was no tomorrow. Defiantly, he looked at the two thugs, daring them to attack. His face was filled with anger and consumed with an unbreakable courage.

  The smaller thug took a step closer to him, waving his knife in the air. “You act tough for a guy who’s about to die.”

  “We’ll see who dies here!”

  “Do you even know who he is?”

  “I don’t care who he is.”

  “You sure he’s worth dying for?”

  “Bring it on and find out!”

  The larger thug kept his eyes on Adam. After a long, tension-filled moment, he shook his head as he spoke to his comrade. “Nah, man. This ain’t worth it. Dude’s crazy.”

  The pair then backed up and fled the scene.

  With a sudden sigh of relief, Adam’s fists unclenched and fell back to his sides as he closed his eyes. Unable to believe what he had just done, he tried to get his breathing under control. The pain from his wounds suddenly returned to him, and he could feel the blood that ran down his face. Lowering his head, he let out a low groan.

  “…thank…you…” a voice whispered.

  Hearing those faint, almost inaudible words, Adam opened his eyes and looked at Jerry. A faint smile was on his lips, and his swollen eyes gleamed with gratitude.

  Adam smiled back. “Don’t sweat it, buddy. Let’s get you to a hospital.”

  ***

  Ethan made his way through the maze of off-white cubicles. He heard his employees’ voices come from every direction as they attended to their business. Suited men and well-dressed women walked by him as they shot friendly smiles at their boss, which he returned. As he turned the corner to get to the elevator, a voice coming from behind him stopped him.

  “Mr. Daniels!”

  Ethan turned, eyeing a young man rushing towards him. He noticed a large bruise and cut on the man’s face, and his suit appeared oddly disheveled.

  “Mr. Daniels, are you in a hurry?”

  “I have a few minutes.”

  “I just wanted to thank you for the opportunity to work for you, sir.”

  “You’re one of the new people we brought on board?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Well, we’re glad to have you.” Ethan stuck out his hand and the young man firmly shook it with a smile. “What’s your name?”

  “Adam. Adam Wise.”

  “Well, Adam, I’m sure you’ll be an excellent fit here.”

  “I won’t let you down, sir.”

  “I have no doubt.” Ethan turned and continued to walk toward the elevator while Adam came alongside him. “So what made you decide to join our crusade?”

  “Well, sir, I use to march with the revolution when Martial Law was in effect.”

  “Really? That says a lot about you.”

  “Thank you, sir. I wanted to show that I stand for what our country’s hero is fighting for. And then I heard about what you were doing here. How you were taking up cases against officials and politicians who were accused of being corrupt, even if the accuser could not pay. And I heard that you were looking to hire people to run around and help out with investigations and stuff since you guys were so overwhelmed with cases. I just thought I could help out here and do my part. Do what I could to help The Guardian’s sacrifices mean something. Let him know that I have his back.”

  Ethan smiled, but kept his aloof demeanor. “I am sure he would appreciate it.”

  “I hope so.”

  They arrived at the elevator. “By the way, do you realize that you have a bruise on your face?”

  Adam smiled at the jest. “Yes, sir.”

  “You should probably put some ice on it or something.”

  “It’s okay. It’s nothing really.”

  “How did it happen?”

  “Just…just doing what any other person would do.”

  The elevator doors opened and Ethan stepped in, while Adam stayed outside. “Well…I’d imagine that The Guardian would be proud of you for saving that man. For
having the courage to put your life on the line for your fellow man. And I’d imagine that he caught up with those two thugs while you took your new friend to the hospital.”

  Hearing his new boss’ words, Adam’s mouth dropped open. How did he know…? Before Adam could reply, the elevator doors shut.

  ***

  Jonathan looked up to see Ethan walk through the entrance to his office. Ethan closed the door behind him and walked across the carpeted floor to his brother’s desk, smiling.

  “Ethan, you’re actually on time for once.”

  “I’m always on time.” Ethan met Jonathan halfway and embraced his brother for a few, long moments before taking a seat across from Jonathan. “How are Cathy and Ben?”

  “They’re just fine.” Jonathan settled himself on his seat. “I think they’re at her mom’s today. Ben was asking about you.”

  “Hopefully I can see him soon. Do you have all the numbers?”

  “Yeah.” Jonathan reached over and tapped the top folder. “Bradley just sent over the real estate numbers a couple of hours ago.”

  “And how is everything looking?”

  “As can be expected. Things were going good, but with Marshall Law now over, they are expected to go through the roof. The law firm is completely overwhelmed with cases right now. And the real estate company is skyrocketing after having gone into a bit of a slump during the occupation.”

  “Ron told me the firm’s success rate against officials charged with corruption was right under eighty-nine percent. Is that right?”

  “It’s actually a bit higher, but yeah, that’s right.”

  “Try and find out who we have working on the ones we’re losing. With all that’s going on, we should be winning every one of those cases.”

  “Okay…yeah, I’ll do that. Eighty-nine is a pretty good number though.”

  “Not good enough.”

  Jonathan nodded. “You were at the cemetery before coming here, weren’t you?”

  Ethan looked down at the bottom of his shoes, which were covered in remnants of dried mud from the cemetery. “I guess I should have cleaned off my shoes before coming here.”