Aaron moved through the alleyways, his breath coming in sharp bursts as he kept pace with Leon. They had to move fast—Bishop's reach was everywhere, and the city was closing in on them. Every step felt like it could be their last, but there was no time for fear now. The message was clear: Bishop was coming for them, and they had no choice but to push forward.
"He's too fucking smart," Leon muttered under his breath. "This game's all about control."
Aaron didn't respond. The weight of Leon's words lingered like a storm cloud above them, but Aaron kept his eyes straight ahead. There was no room for doubt now. They had been hunted by Bishop for too long—this was the moment they had to take back control.
But how? They were surrounded by enemies, and Bishop had already shown he could turn even their allies into weapons against them. He wasn't just playing the game; he was redefining the rules.
They came to a stop outside a dilapidated building—one of the few still standing on the South Side, a relic of better days. It smelled of decay and old blood, the remnants of a city that had once thrived. Aaron's hand tightened around the grip of his gun. The plan had always been to take down Bishop's empire, but things were more complicated now. He wasn't just after revenge anymore; it was personal. Bishop had torn apart their lives, but now, they had to tear apart his.
Leon stepped forward, tapping Aaron on the shoulder. "You're the one that's got this. We've got your back."
Aaron didn't answer right away. He wasn't used to having people at his back. He'd spent too many years running, hiding, and relying on his own strength. But now, with Matt and Leon by his side, there was something different in the air—a sense of camaraderie he hadn't felt in a long time.
But no matter how many people stood with him, Aaron knew that if they were going to take down Bishop, they'd have to go straight for the heart of his operation.
"Let's go," Aaron said, his voice hard as steel. "This ends tonight."