The Siege began with a sledgehammer.
WHAM!
The steel door of the vault shuddered violently. A dent appeared in the center, right where Benny was bracing his shoulder.
"They're trying to breach!" Niko yelled, shoving the barrel of his modified sniper rifle through a bullet hole in the door.
BANG.
A scream from the outside confirmed a hit.
"One down," Niko muttered, racking the bolt.
I sat behind the barricade of money bags, reloading my pistol with clumsy fingers. I wasn't a soldier. My hands were made for typing, not killing.
"Status report!" I shouted over the deafening noise of hammers and shotguns pounding the door.
"I have 8 rounds left!" Niko called out.
"I have 12!" Daniel screamed, firing his shotgun blindly through the gap without even looking. BOOM! BOOM! The buckshot hit nothing but the hallway wall.
My left eye twitched. An Excel spreadsheet opened automatically in my mind.
Calculation: Item: 12-gauge slug. Unit Cost: $2.50. (The price went up 25% since last week due to supply chain disruptions. Inflation is ruthless).
"Daniel!" I roared, furious. "Stop firing at the air! You are hurting our profit margins! Every missed shot is a direct deduction from your bonus!"
Daniel dropped to his knees behind a stack of cash, his hands shaking so hard he dropped a shell. He looked at me with tear-filled eyes, his face smeared with soot.
"I wasn't supposed to be here!" Daniel whimpered, fumbling to pick up the ammo. "I had a reservation at Le Coucou in Soho tonight! Truffle risotto, Solomon! I was supposed to be eating truffle risotto with a model named Chloé!"
He shoved the shell into the chamber, sniffing loudly. "Instead, I'm stuck in a basement, breathing asbestos, paying for a 'Bullet Audit' with my life! This is a terrible work-life balance!"
Suddenly, a hand holding a machete thrust through the gap in the door, slashing wildly near my face.
"Don't touch the Boss!" Daniel shrieked.
Panic overrode his cowardice. He swung his empty shotgun like a baseball bat. CRACK. The stock smashed into the attacker's wrist. The machete clattered to the floor.
"Good asset protection," I nodded, wiping sweat from my glasses. "Now reload. And forget the risotto."
Scene 2: The Poison Pill
"Smoke them out!" A voice boomed from the hallway. It was Tommy’s lieutenant. "Burn the rats! I don't care about the money! Burn it all!"
CLINK-FWOOSH.
Two Molotov cocktails shattered against the money barricade. The canvas duffel bags caught fire. Smoke—thick, black, and choking—began to fill the vault.
"Cough! My lungs!" Daniel wheezed. "This smoke is carcinogenic!"
"They are trying to liquidate us via asphyxiation," I realized. "Benny! The ceiling!"
I pointed to the fire sprinkler pipe running across the vault ceiling.
Benny looked up. He didn't jump. He simply reached up with his massive height and punched the iron pipe.
CLANG-HISS.
Water erupted like a geyser. It was dirty, brown water that had been sitting in the pipes for decades, but it doused the flames instantly. The floor turned into a slippery swamp of mud and wet cash.
"Counter-measure," I grabbed a CO2 fire extinguisher from the wall. I pulled the pin.
"Benny, open the door slightly!"
Benny shifted his weight. The door cracked open six inches. I hurled the canister into the hallway.
BOOM-PHISHHHH.
The canister exploded, releasing a cloud of freezing white gas. Screams of confusion erupted outside as the CO2 blinded them and sucked the oxygen out of the narrow corridor.
Scene 3: The External Merger
I couldn't see the street from inside the vault, but Gara’s voice, crackling over the radio, provided a play-by-play of the massacre unfolding outside.
Gara stood on the roof of the Cadillac, holding a megaphone he had stolen from the protesters. He looked at the mob of 100 thugs, bums, and angry youths he had hired. They were restless, waiting for their $20.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
Gara decided to improvise.
"LISTEN UP!" Gara’s voice echoed over the street. "FORGET THE SIGNS! INSIDE THAT CASINO... THERE IS FIVE MILLION DOLLARS! IT'S LYING ON THE FLOOR! TOMMY IS DEAD! FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED! IT'S A GIVEAWAY!"
The mob froze. Then, a collective madness took over. Their eyes didn't just light up; they burned with the primal hunger of greed.
"MONEY!"
The roar was terrifying. The 100-strong mob surged forward.
Gara sat on the roof, eating popcorn, watching the violence like a judge at the Olympics.
"Oh! Look at that!" Gara narrated to himself.
Down below, a homeless man with a tangled beard was wielding his heavy wooden protest sign like a medieval axe. The sign read SAVE THE WHALES. He swung it with manic strength, smashing the edge directly into the helmet of a Union enforcer. CRACK. The enforcer went down.
"That's a solid 9.2 for impact!" Gara chewed his popcorn. "But a 4.0 for style. Your stance is sloppy, old man!"
Another thug threw a trash can through the glass window, shattering a neon sign.
"Minus two points!" Gara yelled through the megaphone. "Don't scratch the chrome, you idiots! Property damage reduces the asset value!"
Inside the lobby, the mob crashed into Tommy's rear guard. It was pure anarchy. The professional gangsters were overwhelmed by the sheer, unpredictable violence of the desperate poor.
Scene 4: The Bull Market Breakout
Inside the vault, I heard the change in the noise. The rhythmic pounding had stopped, replaced by the screams of a riot.
"Market volatility is peaking," I racked the slide of my pistol. "Gara triggered the stimulus package. We move now!"
"Benny! Bulldozer formation!"
Benny roared. He grabbed the damaged steel door. With a heave that popped the veins in his neck, he ripped the bottom hinge loose. He held the 200kg steel slab in front of him like a Spartan shield.
"MOVE!"
We charged into the hallway.
Benny led the way, smashing into the confused Union soldiers. CRUNCH. Men were tossed aside like ragdolls.
Niko moved in Benny's shadow, using the giant as mobile cover. He popped out from behind Benny’s shoulder—BANG—a headshot—and ducked back in.
"Covering fire!" Niko yelled.
I walked behind them, eyes scanning for threats. A stunned guard stumbled towards me, raising a pistol.
I fired. Bang. Missed. Bang. Missed again. The bullet hit a fire extinguisher.
"Damn it," I cursed my lack of dexterity.
The guard aimed at me.
I stepped forward, jamming the barrel of my gun directly into his stomach. Zero range. No margin for error.
BANG.
He folded.
"Execution confirmed," I muttered, stepping over him.
Scene 5: Liquidation
We burst into the main lobby. It was a war zone. The mob was looting the slot machines, fighting with Tommy’s men.
Blocking the main exit was the Lieutenant—a scarred brute holding a submachine gun—and four elite enforcers armed with machetes and bats.
"Stop them!" The Lieutenant screamed. "Kill the giant!"
"Benny," I commanded. "Dismantle them."
Benny dropped the steel door. He stood there, silent, his breathing steady. He didn't look like a fighter; he looked like an industrial press waiting for raw material.
An enforcer swung a heavy baseball bat at Benny’s head.
Benny didn't dodge. He stepped into the swing. He caught the bat with his left hand, stopping its momentum instantly.
Then he grabbed the man’s arm.
It wasn't a simple grab. It was a lock. Benny shifted his weight, dropping his hips into a classic Kyokushin stance, grounding himself to the floor.
"Torque," I whispered, watching the physics unfold.
Benny rotated his hips violently. The kinetic energy traveled up his spine, through his shoulder, and into his grip. He converted that torque into a mechanical failure of the enemy's elbow joint.
SNAP.
The sound was dry and loud, like a piston rod snapping under pressure.
The enforcer screamed, but Benny was already moving to the next target. His face was blank. No anger. No joy. Just efficiency.
He grabbed the next attacker by the collar and belt. He lifted the 80kg man over his head and slammed him down onto a marble table. CRASH.
"Structural integrity compromised," I noted.
Niko was a blur of motion beside him. He engaged two knife-wielding attackers. He parried a slash, trapped the blade, and drove his elbow into the attacker's throat. Krav Maga—brutal and efficient.
"Too slow!" Niko laughed, slicing the second man’s hamstring.
Daniel, caught in the middle, was grabbed by the collar.
"I got the pretty boy!" An enforcer yelled.
"NOT THE SUIT!" Daniel screamed. He bit the man’s hand—hard. Then, in a panic, he unloaded his shotgun into the ceiling, bringing down a chandelier on top of his attacker.
Scene 6: The Exit Strategy
The path was clear.
We burst through the shattered glass doors of the Casino, stepping onto the sidewalk. The night air was filled with sirens.
"THE CAR!" I pointed.
Gara screeched the Cadillac to a halt in front of us. He kicked the back door open.
"Get in! Get in! Gas prices are rising!" Gara yelled.
Benny threw the money bags in. Daniel dived in headfirst. Niko vaulted onto the hood and slid into the passenger seat.
I jumped into the back.
"GO!"
Gara floored it. The heavy sedan roared, tires spinning smoke as we peeled away, leaving the burning casino behind.
We were covered in sweat, blood, and sewer water. Daniel was hyperventilating. Benny was bleeding from a cut on his arm but smiling.
"Did we lose any money?" Gara asked, looking in the rearview mirror. Then his eyes widened as he saw a smear of blood on the upholstery.
"IS THAT BLOOD?" Gara screamed, his voice cracking. "ON MY GENUINE LEATHER? Are you kidding me? That stains! That is a 10% commission deduction for whoever is bleeding! I'm serious! I'm charging you for detailing!"
I took off my glasses, wiping a speck of someone else's blood from the lens. I looked at the USB drive in my hand, then at the bags of cash at my feet.
"Just drive, Gara," I whispered, a cold smile forming on my face.
"We just executed the most hostile takeover in this city's history."
End of Chapter 14.
"Phase 2: The Hostile Takeover.
-
The Bullet Audit: Because every missed shot is a direct hit to the profit margin.
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Industrial Physics: Benny shows us the true meaning of 'Torque.'
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Work-Life Balance: Daniel learns that truffle risotto is a luxury, but survival is a requirement.
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