The Rise of Mackin Jones

Chapter 39

As Mackin sat in the dark, brooding over the implications of his encounter with The Raven, the weight of the confrontation settled deep in his chest. He had been through wars before, but this was different. This wasn’t a battle over territory or wealth—this was a battle for survival. The Raven had resources and reach that even Mackin hadn’t fully anticipated.

Lambo returned to the office, breaking the silence that had settled over the room. His face was drawn, the strain of the past few weeks evident in the lines around his eyes.

“We’ve got something,” Lambo said, handing Mackin another folder. “One of our informants managed to pull some intel on The Raven. It’s not much, but it’s a start.”

Mackin took the folder, flipping it open. The first thing that caught his eye was a name—a real name. For the first time since this shadowy figure had entered his life, Mackin had something tangible to hold onto.

“Marcus Wren,” Mackin read aloud, his voice tinged with disbelief. “That’s The Raven?”

Lambo nodded. “It’s one of his aliases. Marcus Wren is his legal identity—on paper, he’s a legitimate businessman. But behind the scenes, he’s been running the most sophisticated criminal enterprise this city has ever seen.”

Mackin’s eyes narrowed as he continued reading. Wren had ties to every major player in the criminal world, and more disturbingly, he had connections deep within the government. Judges, police commissioners, senators—Wren’s influence spread far and wide, and his reach was almost impossible to contain.

“He’s untouchable,” Mackin muttered, his mind racing.

“Not quite,” Lambo said, a dark grin crossing his face. “Everyone has a weakness. We just have to find his.”

Mackin leaned back in his chair, the weight of the new information settling over him like a cold fog. Wren, The Raven, whoever this man was—he was the most dangerous adversary Mackin had ever faced. And if he didn’t find a way to neutralise him soon, everything he had built would come crashing down.

But Mackin wasn’t the kind of man to back down from a fight. Not now. Not ever.

“Then let’s find it,” Mackin said, his voice filled with steely resolve. “Let’s find his weakness and take him down.”

As Lambo left the office to begin the hunt for Wren’s vulnerabilities, Mackin sat in the quiet, his mind already turning over the possibilities. The Raven had made his move, but the game was far from over.

And Mackin intended to win.

The dark forces behind The Raven were moving, but so was Mackin. His mind was focused, and his will was unbreakable. The game was in motion, and the stakes had never been higher.

The wheels were turning, both in the city and in Mackin’s mind. The Raven—Marcus Wren—was no longer an untouchable phantom. Mackin now had a target, a real name, a flesh-and-blood enemy who had made the mistake of revealing himself. But this enemy wasn’t just another Bruno or Lachlan. Marcus Wren was a far more dangerous breed—a puppet master who had been pulling the strings of power for years, operating with precision and staying invisible.

Mackin stared down at the name on the file again. Marcus Wren. That name echoed in his mind, like a key that unlocked the darker parts of his past. But there was something more—something buried beneath the surface of the name that tugged at the edges of his memory. The revelation of The Raven’s true identity felt almost too perfect, too carefully constructed, and Mackin’s instincts told him there was more to this story than he was seeing.

Lambo entered the room, his face tight with a sense of purpose. “We’ve got our leads,” he said, his voice steady. “Wren’s operations are extensive, but he’s got weak points. Real estate, off-the-books investments, and certain people on his payroll that might not be as loyal as he thinks.”

Mackin set the folder down, his eyes narrowing. “People on his payroll?”

Lambo grinned. “Wren’s got friends in high places, but some of those friends have been lining their pockets for too long. We squeeze them, and they’ll crack. That’s how we get to him.”

Mackin leaned forward, his mind working faster now, already planning his next move. “We don’t just squeeze them—we flip them. Turn his allies against him; make them doubt his power. We cut off his influence one person at a time.”

Lambo nodded, his enthusiasm building. “We can start with some of his smaller fish. Judges, local officials. If we apply the right pressure, they’ll start feeding us intel on Wren’s movements. It’ll take time, but we can dismantle him from the inside.”

Mackin’s lips curled into a grim smile. “That’s how we win.”

Lambo’s phone buzzed, interrupting the moment. He checked the message quickly, then looked up at Mackin, his face suddenly serious. “There’s one more thing you need to know.”

Mackin raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“One of our sources—deep in Wren’s circle—just came through with something big,” Lambo said, his voice lowering. “Apparently, Wren’s planning a move against you.”

Mackin’s heart skipped a beat. “What kind of move?”

Lambo hesitated, his expression grim. “He’s planning to expose your past, Mackin. All of it. The secrets you buried—the things no one’s supposed to know about.”

Mackin’s pulse quickened. His past. The one thing he had spent years hiding, burying deeper and deeper with every step he took towards power. If Wren had found out, if he planned to use it against him, then everything Mackin had built was in jeopardy.

“Does he have proof?” Mackin asked, his voice low and dangerous.

“We don’t know yet,” Lambo replied. “But if he’s got anything solid, he could destroy your entire empire.”

Mackin stood abruptly, pacing towards the window. The weight of Wren’s threat settled over him like a thick fog. For years, he had been careful—moving in the shadows, cutting ties to anyone or anything that could expose his true history. But now, the past he thought he had buried was coming back to haunt him.

Lambo watched Mackin carefully, sensing the storm brewing inside him. “What’s the play, boss? If Wren’s going to move, we need to act first.”

Mackin’s mind raced, his thoughts churning. Wren had the advantage for now—he was using Mackin’s greatest fear against him. But if Wren thought that he could control Mackin by threatening his past, then he had underestimated just how far Mackin was willing to go to protect what was his.

“We don’t let him get the upper hand,” Mackin said, his voice steady despite the fury building inside him. “We make it clear to him—and to anyone who thinks they can come after me—that there’s a price for trying to take me down.”

Lambo frowned slightly. “You want to send a message?”

Mackin turned to face him, his eyes cold and determined. “Not just a message. We hit him where it hurts—hard and fast. We make him regret ever coming after me.”

Lambo nodded, his loyalty unwavering. “I’ll put our best guys on it. Wren’s network is big, but we can start taking it apart, piece by piece.”

Mackin’s mind was already turning over the details. Wren had made his move, but now it was time for Mackin to strike back. He couldn’t afford to let his past be used against him, and he wasn’t about to let Wren destroy everything he had fought to build.

“Focus on his financial network,” Mackin said, his voice clipped. “He’s been hiding behind layers of money and influence for too long. We’ll tear that down, and when he’s vulnerable, we’ll finish him.”

Lambo stood, ready to act. “I’ll get on it.”

As Lambo left the room, Mackin stood alone in the silence, the weight of Wren’s threat pressing down on him. He had always known that his past could come back to destroy him, but he had never imagined it would be in the hands of someone like Wren. Now, everything was at stake—his empire, his family, and the legacy he had spent his entire life building.

But Mackin wasn’t the kind of man to be taken down by his past. He had clawed his way to the top through blood, betrayal, and sacrifice. And if Wren thought he could use those same tools against him, then he was sorely mistaken.

Mackin would fight. And he would win.

That night, deep in the heart of the city, Marcus Wren sat in his penthouse, his gaze fixed on the skyline. The game was in motion, and Mackin Jones was beginning to feel the weight of the trap that Wren had set for him. It had taken time—years of careful planning and manipulation—but now Mackin was cornered.

Wren smiled to himself, a slow, dangerous smile that barely touched his lips. The pieces were falling into place. Soon, Mackin’s empire would crumble, and Wren would emerge as the most powerful figure in the city.

But for now, he would wait. Let Mackin make his move. Let him scramble to protect his carefully constructed world. Wren had all the time in the world, and he knew how to use it.

“Sir,” a voice came from behind him. One of his lieutenants, a man named Gideon, stepped forward, his head slightly bowed in deference.

“What is it?” Wren asked, not turning from the window.

“The move against Mackin—it’s ready. We’ve got the necessary documents and evidence lined up. When we release it, his reputation will be in ruins. The media will eat him alive.”

Wren’s smile widened, a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. “Good. Make sure everything is in place. We’ll release it when the time is right.”

Gideon hesitated for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly. “And if Mackin retaliates? He’s already making moves against our financial network.”

Wren turned slowly, his expression darkening. “Let him try. Mackin doesn’t understand the game he’s playing. He’s used to dealing with small-time operators like Bruno. But this—this is something else entirely.”

Gideon nodded, though a flicker of doubt remained in his eyes. “Understood, sir.”

As Gideon left the room, Wren turned back to the window, his thoughts swirling. Mackin was a worthy adversary—strong, determined, ruthless. But Wren had the upper hand. He had seen men like Mackin before, men who thought they could control their destiny through sheer willpower and force. But in the end, they all fell.

Mackin would be no different.

Wren’s eyes glinted as he took a slow sip of the whisky in his hand. This was more than a game now. It was a reckoning. And when the dust settled, Wren would be the one standing.

Back at the mansion, Mackin paced in his office, his mind racing through the events of the past few days. Lambo had already begun dismantling Wren’s financial network, but Mackin knew that wasn’t enough. Wren was too smart, too careful. He had hidden his true power behind layers of intermediaries, making it almost impossible to strike a decisive blow.

But Mackin wasn’t looking for a clean victory. He was looking for blood.

The phone on his desk rang, and Mackin picked it up, expecting it to be Lambo. But the voice on the other end was unfamiliar.

“Mackin Jones,” the voice said, smooth and calculated. “I have information you’re going to want.”

Mackin’s grip on the phone tightened. “Who is this?”

“I’m someone who used to work for Wren,” the voice continued. “I know where his money is hidden—and how you can take him down.”

Mackin’s pulse quickened. This was exactly what he needed—a way to cripple Wren, to cut him off from his power base and leave him vulnerable. But he had to be careful. Wren had eyes everywhere, and this could be a trap.

“Why are you telling me this?” Mackin asked, his voice low.

“Because Wren burnt me,” the voice replied. “He thinks he’s untouchable, but I know better. I can help you bring him down. But you need to move fast.”

Mackin hesitated for a moment, his instincts screaming at him to be cautious. But he couldn’t afford to pass up an opportunity like this.

“Where do we meet?” Mackin asked, his voice steady.

The voice on the other end gave him a location—an old warehouse on the outskirts of the city. “Be there in an hour. And come alone.”

The line went dead.

Mackin set the phone down, his mind racing. This could be the break he needed, the key to taking down Wren once and for all. But it could also be a trap, another one of Wren’s carefully laid plans.

He had no choice but to take the risk.

An hour later, Mackin arrived at the warehouse, the night air cold and still around him. The area was deserted, the faint hum of the city far in the distance. He stepped out of the car, his senses on high alert as he approached the darkened building.

Inside, the warehouse was filled with shadows, the only light coming from a single overhead bulb that flickered dimly. Mackin’s footsteps echoed in the empty space as he moved deeper into the building, his hand resting on the gun tucked inside his jacket.

A figure stepped out from the shadows—a man with a thin, sharp face and nervous eyes. He was dressed in a cheap suit, his hands trembling slightly as he approached Mackin.

“You came,” the man said, his voice shaky but determined.

“I don’t have time for games,” Mackin replied coldly. “Where’s Wren’s money?”

The man swallowed hard, his eyes darting around the room as if expecting someone to be watching. “Wren’s got offshore accounts, shell companies, and hidden investments all over the world. But there’s one account—one that’s not as well protected. If you hit it, you can cripple him.”

Mackin’s eyes narrowed. “Where is it?”

The man reached into his jacket, pulling out a small flash drive. “Everything you need is on here. Bank details, passwords, access codes. It’ll get you into his personal accounts.”

Mackin took the flash drive, his mind already calculating the next steps. This could be the opening he needed—the key to bringing Wren to his knees. But something about the man’s nervousness made Mackin hesitate.

“Why are you helping me?” Mackin asked, his voice sharp. “What’s in it for you?”

The man’s eyes flicked to the floor, his expression tense. “Wren ruined me. He took everything I had. This is my way of getting back at him.”

Mackin studied him for a moment longer, weighing the truth of his words. Finally, he nodded. “You did the right thing.”

The man’s shoulders sagged with relief, but before he could respond, the sound of a car pulling up outside the warehouse cut through the silence. Mackin’s hand went to his gun, his instincts flaring.

“Get down,” Mackin hissed, pushing the man behind a stack of crates.

A second later, the warehouse door creaked open, and two figures stepped inside—both of them armed, their faces hidden beneath hoods. Mackin’s pulse quickened. Wren’s men.

Mackin’s mind raced as he calculated his next move. He had the flash drive, but now he needed to get out of here before Wren’s people realised what was happening. He motioned for the man to stay low, then crept towards the side exit, his gun drawn and ready.

The two men moved cautiously through the warehouse, their guns sweeping the shadows as they searched for any sign of Mackin. But Mackin was already one step ahead. He slipped out the side door and into the night, the flash drive clutched tightly in his hand.

As he made his way back to the car, Mackin’s mind was racing. He had the information he needed, but this was far from over. Wren wasn’t going to sit idly by while Mackin dismantled his empire. The war had only just begun.

Back at the mansion, Mackin plugged the flash drive into his laptop, his heart pounding as he scrolled through the information. It was all there—offshore accounts, hidden investments, financial networks that stretched across the globe.

But there was something else. Something that made Mackin’s blood run cold.

Among the files was a document labelled simply The Raven’s Plan.

Mackin opened it, his eyes scanning the lines of text, his pulse quickening with every word. It was a detailed blueprint of Wren’s strategy—how he planned to take Mackin down, not just financially but personally. The document outlined everything—Mackin’s past, his family, the secrets he had worked so hard to keep buried.

Wren knew everything.

Mackin’s heart raced as he realised the full scope of Wren’s plan. This wasn’t just about money or power. This was about total destruction.

And Wren was coming for him.

Mackin closed the laptop, his mind swirling with the implications of what he had just discovered. Wren wasn’t just a threat—he was a ticking time bomb. And Mackin had to act fast if he wanted to stop him.

He picked up the phone and called Lambo.

“We’ve got a problem,” Mackin said, his voice tense. “Wren’s planning something bigger than we thought. We need to move now.”

Lambo’s voice crackled through the line. “I’ll rally the men. What’s the plan?”

Mackin’s eyes darkened as he spoke, his voice filled with steely resolve. “We take the fight to him. No more waiting. We end this, once and for all.”