Chapter 208: Chapter 208: Millions and Motives
Marcus walked over and reached down, grabbing Alexander by the shoulder to help him haul his battered body up from the concrete. Alexander, still dizzy and disoriented from the blows to his head, instinctively clenched his fists and tried to swing a counter-attack.
"Easy, old friend, it’s me, it’s me" said Marcus, catching his wrist smoothly. "Everything is going to be fine."
Alexander, barely able to force his swollen eyes open, spat a mouthful of dark blood onto the pavement. "Shit, Marcus... they kicked the living crap out of me."
"That’s exactly how these pieces of shit operate" said Marcus, wrapping Alexander’s arm over his shoulder to support his weight. "They don’t know the first thing about gratitude. They look you dead in the eye and say one thing to your face, then send their brainless goons to ambush you from behind."
"Thanks" muttered Alexander, leaning against him. "I owe you one."
"It’s all good, it’s all good" said Marcus, guiding him away from the mangled Shelby. "Just focus on staying alive. Come on, my car is parked right over here in the alley."
Alexander stopped in his tracks, wincing as he clutched his bruised ribs. "Wait... what about my car? I have all my money in the trunk."
"Hold on, let me grab it" said Marcus.
Marcus walked back to the crumpled rear of the Shelby, popped the latch on the damaged trunk, and reached inside. He hauled out a heavy duffel bag and a metallic briefcase.
"Holy shit, this thing is heavy" said Marcus, grunting slightly as he walked back to Alexander. "What the hell are you carrying in here, rocks?"
"Two million dollars" said Alexander.
"Two million? Damn..." said Marcus, letting out a low whistle as they finally reached the idling Dodge Hellcat. "That is some serious, textbook extravagance. Why the hell are you carrying that much around in your trunk anyway?"
Marcus tossed the heavy luggage into the back seat and carefully helped Alexander slide into the passenger side before walking around and jumping into the driver’s seat. He slammed the door, shifted into gear, and pulled out into the quiet street.
"So, let’s hear it" said Marcus, glancing over at him. "Why were you dragging that around?"
"It was meant to be the down payment for the apartment inside the Crystal building" said Alexander, resting his aching head against the window. "But things started getting incredibly weird before I could even hand it over."
Alexander took a slow, painful breath and began laying out everything that had transpired over the last few hours. He explained how they had tried to pressure him into assassinating the Sinclair family’s financial broker, and how the entire ambush went down the exact second he refused to take the contract.
"The moment I turned it down, everything hit the fan" said Alexander, his eyes narrowing in the dim dashboard light. "I’m telling you, Marcus, every single bit of this is connected."
Marcus kept his eyes on the road, his mind running through the variables as he processed the information. After a long moment of silence, he nodded slowly.
"Based on what you’re saying, it actually makes a lot of sense" said Marcus, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. "It’s highly probable that someone else was pulling the strings from behind the scenes to orchestrate this entire mess, but I just can’t pinpoint who has that kind of leverage right now."
Marcus paused, shifting gears as the supercharger gave a low hum. "But think about it... Big Black holds way too much power in this city to actively go out of his way to look for petty trouble with someone like you. Don’t you think it might just be a massive coincidence?"
"Coincidence? No fucking way," said Alexander, groaning as he shifted his weight to find a position that didn’t crush his ribs. "The timing is too perfect. First the broker contract, then the hitmen at Victoria’s place, and then those tactical guys who literally called me Agent 815. They had official clearance data, Marcus. You don’t get that kind of intel by coincidence."
"Fair point," said Marcus, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel as he navigated a dark intersection. "But if it’s an inside job or someone pulling strings from the top, you’re playing a dangerous game. Walking around with two million in cash and a broken face isn’t going to fix it. We need to get you back to the TMC hotel so you can patch yourself up and get behind some real security."
"Yeah, because the last high-security building worked out so well tonight," muttered Alexander, wiping a flake of blood from his lip. "Joseph Kingsley almost had his men paint the lobby with me. By the way, the old man is blind to what’s happening. He thinks the Sinclairs did it."
"Of course he does," said Marcus, letting out a dark chuckle. "The Kingsleys and the Sinclairs have been looking for an excuse to tear this city apart for years. If someone wanted to start a war, using Aria and Victoria as bait is the perfect way to do it. But whoever organized this didn’t count on you surviving a five-on-one ambush in a bathroom hallway."
"They underestimated what the TMC pods do to a man’s reflexes," said Alexander, staring out at the neon signs flashing past the window. "I felt the sniper’s gaze before I even saw the operators. My body just moved on its own. But I’m out of ammo, my Shelby is totaled, and I’m running on pure adrenaline."
"Which is exactly why you’re going to sit back, shut up, and let me drive you to the safe zone," said Marcus, turning the Hellcat down the main avenue leading toward the fortified TMC hotel district. "We’ll get you a medic, a fresh weapon, and then we figure out who actually gave those orders. If it’s a rogue faction inside TMC or a political play, we’re going to need a lot more than two million dollars to buy our way out of it."
"I’m not letting this go, Marcus," said Alexander, his voice turning deathly quiet as the hotel’s secure perimeter finally came into view. "Whoever ordered that hit on the broker and tried to execute me is going to pay. I don’t care if I have to tear down the entire city block by block."
"One step at a time, cowboy," said Marcus, pulling the car up to the armored gates of the hotel. "Let’s make sure you can actually breathe without coughing up blood first."
