Among the West Coast's criminal underworld, rumors about Frank D'Amico abound; how he enjoys encasing enemies in concrete before dumping them in the river, or using industrial microwaves to reduce men to puddles of gore.
Most are just grisly tales emphasizing his cruelty.
However, what piqued the interest of even more people was the sturdy fortress that stood in the heart of the city.
After achieving success in his illicit business, the big drug lord had purchased an entire building and transformed it into his personal fortress.
Every floor was filled with heavily armed gunmen and bodyguards. Without his explicit permission, it was absolutely impossible for anyone to reach the penthouse (Frank D'Amico's sanctum)...
Yet half an hour ago, someone had chosen the most direct (or perhaps the most foolish) method to pay the kingpin a visit...
*Knock* *Knock* *Knock*
The door guard frowned at the sight of an odd looking leather-jacketed youth in a motorcycle helmet standing outside.
'Is this idiot high? Doesn't he know where he is?'
The guard tightened his grip on the pistol at his waist, swaggered to the door, and said in a menacing tone, "Kid, you got three seconds to vanish, or you're going to have a very bad night…"
...
Two guards had noticed that their companion had been at the door for an unusually long time, and they felt something was off...
"What's going on with Johnny? Why's he just standing there for so long?"
They drew their guns and approached, just in time to see their brawny colleague gasping as the helmeted stranger lifted him off the ground one-handed.
*BANG!* *BANG!*
The helmeted intruder used Johnny's body as a shield against the shots, then he blurred forward, delivering an elbow strike into one guard's throat while seizing his weapon. A single headshot dropped the other guard.
The entire sequence of actions unfolded with lethal precision, more befitting a spec-ops soldier than some street punk.
"I'll be borrowing your keycard." The intruder twisted the guard's neck with polite detachment.
*Ring Ring...*
As Sean moved toward the elevator, the front desk phone shrilled.
After a brief 'friendly chat' with Frank upstairs, he began his ascent.
.....
*Boom! Boom! Boom!*
Gunfire erupted, jolting the entire building awake... Within minutes, dozens of armed men flooded the halls.
Frank's orders were clear: Kill any intruder on sight.
The elevator doors slid open to reveal... nothing.
"Where'd he go?" Gunmen exchanged confused glances.
The elevator was the only way up from the ground floor. Had the guy just–
*Drrrrrat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat!*
A shadow dropped from the elevator shaft, gun blazing midair. Bullets punched through skulls before bodies even hit the ground.
Caught off-guard, the guards barely managed wild suppressive fire as their front ranks collapsed.
The relentless assault pinned them down, giving them no chance to regroup, only to cower behind cover while comrades died.
When the shooting finally stopped, survivors peeked out to find over a dozen corpses, each with fatal headshots, with no chance to even struggle...
"Where is he?"
"How should I know?"
"He's gotta be out of ammo!"
"Rush him together!"
Despite the bravado, no one moved... That surgical slaughter had shattered their nerve.
One 'man' had locked down thirty professionals? It defied reason.
The silence stretched, thick with panicked breathing. After an eternity, the men finally crept from cover–
*BRRRT!*
Gunfire erupted instantly...
.....
"Send everyone down! No, keep them all here! When that bastard arrives, fill him with lead!" Frank's usual composure had shattered into naked panic.
In all his years, no one had ever dared to storm his fortress so brazenly, and with such unstoppable force to boot.
"Boss, he's reached the 20th floor," a subordinate clutching a Remington shotgun reported.
"You're all f%cking useless! Dozens of men, dozens of guns, and you can't even stop one goddamn kid!" Frank still couldn't fathom who he'd crossed to warrant this nightmare.
...
The slaughter continued.
The elevator never stopped.
With superhuman reflexes and augmented physique, Sean waged a one-sided massacre.
Trained professionals moved in slow motion against him, their formations crumbling like sandcastles.
Yet as he ascended, two figures shadowed his path... a former cop and his preteen daughter.
Damon never imagined he'd breach his lifelong enemy's lair this easily. That helmeted kid was a precision killing machine, carving a path even he couldn't follow...
"Mindy, to the elevator shaft, now!" Damon growled.
Frank D'Amico's death belonged to him...
While all attention fixated on the intruder, Damon and his miniature killing machine scaled the shaft.
Years of studying Frank's empire had revealed his police bribes which allowed the crime lord to continue his illegal drug smuggling business with impunity. Even if Frank were arrested, he'd likely be released quickly.
So, Damon had concluded that only one solution remained: permanent retirement...
"Stay behind me, Mindy."
As an ex-cop, Damon's combat skills were formidable. And his daughter whom he forged through brutal training also possessed strength far beyond her years.
This father-daughter duo had already crippled multiple of Frank's operations, which partly explained Sean's smooth progress tonight.
"Frank D'Amico... I'm coming for you..."
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