"Boss, are we really taking him to the Polaris Star?" Phecda hesitated, knowing all too well that the place was brimming with so many of their secrets. It didn't seem right to let Palmer in on it all.
Noella surveyed the few club members before her. "You disagree?" she bit back.
Phecda quickly raised his hand in acquiescence, "You're the boss, and that’s your call!"
Ivan stepped forward and hoisted Palmer onto his shoulder, "Let's hit the road then. If the boss trusts him, who are we to argue?"
As if on cue, Nolan drove up in a pickup truck, "Hop in! We've made too much noise here; someone's bound to show up soon."
The truck's bed was spacious enough, and Noella instructed Ivan to lay Palmer down carefully, then checked his pulse herself.
Ivan frowned, "Boss, that Vocalist is real man. To think he carried you through that jump with such heavy injuries. I was watching from across the way and thinking he was unscathed."
While aiding Noella in stemming Palmer's bleeding, Phecda couldn't help but complimented, "No kidding. The guy stood his ground and said some tough things so I thought he was just fine. But look at my hand—blood everywhere."
From their vantage point in the opposite building, they had watched Palmer, so calm and collected, that they assumed he was unharmed.
The rope Ivan had thrown was snatched up by Palmer in a single grab, and with their boss in his arms, he'd leaped out with such grace and precision.
Who would have known he was injured?
"No vital hits, but he's lost a lot of blood. These back wounds are nasty; they need attention. We'll take care of it back at the Polaris Star."
Noella breathed a sigh of relief, her gaze lingering on the unconscious Palmer.
Why hadn't he mentioned a word about his injury?
The scent of blood was overpowering, and Palmer had masked his pain all too well in front of her. She had suspected his injuries but never imagined they were this severe.
Had she known about the extent of his wounds, she would never have let him jump first.
Phecda glanced at the laptop, "Boss, Ulrich headed to South Flora Storage. Good thing we left when we did."
Noella nodded. Her face was icy and revealing a little bit of her lethal intent.
"The Gruber family and Westwood Mercenary Corps won’t be out anymore." She claimed.
Ivan rubbed his hands together eagerly, "Are we moving against the Gruber family? Do we handle it ourselves or get in touch with the Schnabel family?"
"We'll handle it. I want to wake up tomorrow to the news of the Gruber family's bankruptcy."
The Polaris Star had enough corporate firepower to bankrupt the Gruber family, and with enough enemies waiting in the wings, others would take care of the aftermath once the Grubers were down on their luck.
Noella whipped out her phone and dialed a secure number from across the ocean.
At the base of the black tower, Xavier was in the midst of feeding a few unlucky souls to the sharks. The blood in the water had the predators circling, their scent thick in the air.
The sight of the incoming call changed his ferocious look into an obsequious one, "Noella, hey. What's the situation?"
"Need a favor. The Westwood Mercenary Corp will be done. My people can't make it to Lockhart Prison right now. Can you handle it?"
"A favor? No problem at all, my dear. I'll take care of it! Did they cross a line with you?"
"That they did," Noella replied coolly.
"I'll let you know how it goes!" After hanging up, Xavier gestured nonchalantly, and the remaining captives were fed to the circling sharks, painting the sea red.
"These guys were with Westwood too, and I’ll snap a photo for Noella," he said to himself.
Noella, looking at the macabre image on her phone, rubbed her temples in frustration.
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