From Bullets To Billions novel Chapter 150

After finally explaining everything he needed to, Max was relieved, no, grateful, that Aron had left.

Without wasting another second, he changed out of his flashy Billion Bloodline merch and into some normal gym wear. Nothing fancy. Just plain, forgettable clothes. Then he bolted out the door and headed straight for the meeting point.

I'm lucky Aron's the kind of guy who can be… persuaded, Max thought as he jogged down the street. And yeah, I know he'll throw himself into this mission like it's a full-blown blockbuster, but that's exactly what worries me. I just hope he makes it out okay.

Far on the outskirts of the city, past the last row of crumbling fences and half-dead streetlamps, was a wide, cracked field. Dusty. Forgotten. The kind of place you'd avoid unless you had business that preferred silence.

Several vehicles had pulled up on the brittle asphalt, their tires crunching against loose gravel. Aron stepped out of his car, his boots hitting the ground with purpose.

Around him, men emerged from the other cars, tall, broad, and geared up. Body armor. Batons. Black sunglasses that made them look more like a cinematic hit squad than anything official. They weren't government. Not even close. This was a hand-picked mercenary team. Private. Expensive. Dangerous.

"Alright, listen up!" Aron shouted, clapping his hands for attention. "You've all been briefed. You know who we're looking for."

One of the men raised a hand, frowning. "Uh, sir? Are we sure these descriptions are... reliable? Because, no offense, but some of them sound like bad fanfiction."

"There's no confirmed photo of the man," Aron replied, not missing a beat. "This is all the intel we've got. We work with what we have."

Another operative swiped through the info packet on a tablet, raising an eyebrow as he read aloud. "Built like a mountain, with the charm of a Greek god and the hair of a shampoo commercial?"

"Are we tracking a fugitive or a mythological thirst trap?" another guy muttered.

"That's nothing," someone else chimed in. "Ours says he once punched a bear... to save the bear from itself."

There was a long pause.

"…What does that even mean?"

The laughter was low but contagious. Another operative joined in, holding up his screen. "Here's ours: he's supposedly six-foot-seven, muscles on muscles, voice like thunder, eyes like twin suns, and he smells like courage."

"So basically, a cologne ad," someone snorted. "We're looking for a cologne ad, not a suspect."

"Enough!" Aron barked, his voice slicing through the noise. "This is what we've got. And we've got a sighting, suspected to be him, in the mountains. We are going to use every resource available to find him. Understood?"

There were nods, quiet affirmations, and the mood shifted. Still skeptical. Still confused. But focused now. Ready to move.

As Aron turned around, he broke into a sprint, and the rest of the squads followed close behind. Together, they rushed toward three relatively large helicopters waiting with rotors already whining to life. Within moments, the blades were spinning fast, cutting through the air, and the aircraft lifted off the ground like giant metal birds.

As they flew over the city, people on the streets stopped what they were doing to watch. One helicopter wasn't unusual. Two was noteworthy. But three, flying low and tight in formation? That got attention. Phones came out. Fingers pointed skyward. Some guessed it was a movie shoot. Others thought maybe a high-stakes rescue team was headed into the mountains. Either way, it wasn't something you saw every day.

Up in the mountains, the lead helicopter reached the designated search area first. The zone was huge, miles of forested wilderness sprawled in every direction. Too much for one team to handle alone. The helicopters split into a triangle formation, each covering a different section of terrain.

From above, the plan was simple: fan out, spread wide, search hard.

Thick ropes uncoiled and dropped from the choppers like vines.

"Need help, sir?" one of the squad members asked as they prepped to descend.

"I've done this before," Aron said, already gripping the rope. He slid down effortlessly, barely slowing at the end before jumping to the ground with practiced ease.

One of the men still in the chopper leaned toward the door, watching. "Wait… who is that guy? I thought he was just some rich snob."

"Does it matter?" another squad member snapped. "Our job is to help him search for this guy. So shut it and get moving."

The rest of the teams rappelled down from the helicopters, one after another, boots hitting dirt and leaves. The search had officially begun.

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