He stared menacingly at the man with the glasses and pointed his finger at him. "A couple of million loss! I'll make you forget it!"
"You can try, Taserface!" The man with the glasses stood up and mocked scar face even more, not to be out done.
All of them here are part of a large drug organization, they control several districts in a largely populated city. Having courage is not enough in this line of work, learning to survive is.
So, all of them knew that anyone in this room have something that they are hiding to survive. And no one is going to back down.
"Okay, okay, can we just stay calm and think about who's responsible in this mess," another chimed in stopping the situation from getting out of hand. An old man in his seventies, with short white hair.
"I agree, you men are all the same. Bunch of savages!" a woman snapped, slamming her large arm on the table. Using it as a support as she tried to stand up but stopped midway. She was having difficulty in just standing up by how big she is. "And where the fuck is Ronan?"
"Maybe he's dead." one of them said, almost hopeful.
"He better not be. We still need answers."
"I say we strike back," the bald guy growled. "Hit someone! Anyone. Make 'em think twice before they touch our turf."
"Who?" the woman asked. "We don't even know who did this."
"Strata, Vesper, some new dog with teeth. I don't give a damn!" he shouted. "Someone's gonna pay. I ain't sittin' on my hands."
"Shut up!" scar face said. "You think wild shots are gonna fix this? You wanna start a war with the wrong people?"
"We're already in a fuckin' war," someone else shouted back. "We just need to advance the plans."
"We're exposed now dipshit," the woman said flatly. "If we lose more routes, more people dead, we're screwed, the plans will be held back. Just stay low for now, pull back. Lock it down. Quiet things first. Then we strike."
"Fuck that," the bald one said, getting louder. "You're scared. That it?"
"I'm smart," she shot back. "You go in blind, you die. Simple as that, you gorilla."
The old man lit a cigarette, not even looking up. "What if one of them families did this?"
The question made all of them shut up, the room was in silence for a couple of seconds. They know that if the families moved, they would've been done already.
Even if only one of the family got involved, it would be a disaster for all of the city. The four most wealthy and powerful families that resides in the city are much more powerful than all of the criminal underground combined.
"They ain't moving… I mean, I hope they're not." The woman in the hoodie muttered. "I haven't got anything from one of my girls. So, let's just hope it's just some new gang or an outsider atleast."
"Don't matter," the bald guy growled again. "Let's just find something and we tear out their fuckin' lungs."
The room erupted into a storm, exactly as someone wanted. But the meeting was interrupted with a door swung open with a heavy creak.
All the conversation in the meeting died.
A tall, thin man stepped in, jaw clenched, eyes wide with disbelief. His head was lowered but his steps were firm, moving forward to one of the corners of the table.
"Who the fuck do you think you are to barge in here!?" one of them shouted.
The old man raised his right hand and beckon the man that came in. "It's alright, he's one of mine."
"Who cares if he's with you old man! You disrespect this meeti…"
"Shut your mouth little boy!" the old man hissed at the man with the glasses. Making him shut up completely. Literally too stunned to speak, not expecting the old man to lash out like that.
The old man calmed down seeing no response. He glanced at his underling, signaling him to continue what he was going to do.
The man that came in walked behind the old man's chair, leaned closer to his ear and whispered. "Ronan's hideout... has been breached."
"What!?" the old man shouted loudly, making the meeting more tense than it is. He noticed the reaction of the others, confusion and mockery were shown on their faces.
"Ehem, tell me clearly." The old man said to his underling after composing himself. Making the man tell all what he knows.
A few seconds of silence followed as they watched the two talk in silence.
Finally, after a couple of minutes, the man stood straight and the old man's face crumble slowly.
"What is it!? Tell us." the bald man said impatiently.
The old man seeing the collective nods of confusion and impatience in the others, nodded to his underling.
"Ronan's hideout... has been breached." He said loudly this time for the whole meeting room.
Another round of silence reigned in the room.
Only after a couple of minutes passed that the woman in the hoodie leaned forward, frowningly asked. "What the hell do you mean, breached?"
He hesitated. "Breached. Wiped. It's been attacked and there's nothing left. Even the vice leader is missing.
More silence.
The bald man blinked, then barked a short, disbelieving laugh. "That's bullshit! That place was loaded. He had security, cash, equipment. Hell, half the backup intel was in that house!"
"Yes." the man said, voice tight. "They called a distress call earlier, and when backup arrived, the manor was already empty. The attackers cleaned out everything, like it was never there. No traces, no servers, no safes, no bodies were found."
Now the silence cracked.
"What?!"
"Everything's gone?! How the fuck…"
"There were records there, deals, shipment routes, client names!"
"We had cash in that vault! Weapons! Products!"
The old man stood, face turning red with fury. "Stop! All of you!"
"Tsk. Do you know what was hidden in that house?! If that shit leaks, we're done. The whole country's gonna eat us alive!"
"The files were encrypted…" someone tried to say.
"Doesn't matter! If someone smart enough hit it, they can break through anything! You think this was random?"