Apocalypse Queen: My Space, My Rules Chapter 143: The Fortress at No 98

Harvey turned to Damian. "Find out if that No. 98 bodyguard has made contact with his inside man yet. We may need that asset tonight."

...

With Kieran's approval, Mariella had been made co-admin of the group chat, effectively serving as his second-in-command.

She issued orders under Kieran's authority.

"This is Mariella Townsend, No. 98. Mr. Hancock has asked me to relay the following, stay calm. Our drones have tracked the convict gang's movement. They're heading straight for the two companies Harvey just seized. Their goal is the supplies.

"Everyone, hold position and wait for coordinated orders. We have to act as one unit, or we'll be picked apart.

"No one can survive this alone. If you only care about your own doorstep, we'll all go down together. Got it?"

One of the homeowners asked, "Are you the Mariella Townsend that Connor brought back from the orphanage?"

The mention of Connor put the homeowners on edge.

Everyone knew Connor was in Harvey's camp.

Could his daughter be trusted?

Mariella answered immediately. "I cut all ties with Connor a long time ago. He killed my mother for his mistress and her daughter. We're blood enemies. I also broke off my engagement with Harvey—he was sleeping with my half-sister behind my back. Every one of them is my enemy."

"Ms. Townsend—you're the girl who fought those criminals at Brightcastle Kindergarten and saved all those children, right?"

"Ms. Townsend—you're the girl who went one-on-one with that mastiff, right?"

"Yeah, yeah—Kingston's mastiff attacked her, and she didn't flinch. Grabbed a wrench and took the dog on solo. Absolute warrior."

Both incidents rang bells. A girl who was that fearless stuck in the memory.

Especially since she'd saved a kindergarten full of children.

A lot of the homeowners had kids enrolled there.

Kieran weighed in. "I personally vouch for Ms. Townsend. She has nothing to do with the Shepherds or Harvey anymore. They're enemies now. She's on our side."

With the Hancock heir backing her, the homeowners' trust deepened.

The consensus was clear: they were willing to follow her.

Mariella had just issued the hold-position order when the drone feed updated: the convict gang had changed course. They were heading for No. 98.

...

The outer zones of Celestine Ridge had already fallen—first to the local thugs, then to Harvey and Damian's forces. Only No. 98 had held.

Now, the convict gang itself was coming. For No. 98, this was an extinction-level threat.

Kieran didn't hesitate. He posted in the group chat: "We can't let No. 98 fall. If they go down, we're next."

"Just tell us what to do, Mr. Hancock."

Kieran went silent for a few minutes—probably consulting someone.

Five minutes later, he posted his conclusion. "I just spoke with Ms. Townsend. She says everyone should hold their position for now. Let No. 98 test the convict gang's strength first. Stand by for orders."

Privately, Kieran messaged Mariella. "Don't be scared. If you can't hold, I'm coming with reinforcements."

Mariella sent back a grinning emoji. "Delivery service! Remember that hundred-million-dollar investment of yours, Mr. Hancock? I promised to double your money in three months. I'm a few days late, but I keep my promises."

Every homeowner in the neighborhood scrambled to the highest point they could find.

Those with drones launched them. Those without pulled out high-powered binoculars.

Celestine Ridge wasn't that large. From a fourth or fifth floor, you could see nearly the entire neighborhood.

Between the drones and the binoculars, everyone had a front-row seat to the battle—and was ready to join in.

...

The escaped convicts had spent about six weeks on the run. Their shaved heads had grown out to buzz cuts.

They were still easy to pick out of a crowd.

Hardened violence was written on every face. They carried the unmistakable air of men who had nothing to lose.

Black Bear had two women draped over him, one on each arm. His massive hands wandered freely. He didn't care who was watching.

The women wore flattering smiles and kept feeding him from time to time.

Being chosen by Black Bear meant you worked hard to stay in favor. Fall out of it, and you'd be handed off to his men. That never ended well.

Some of these women had been polished professionals. Others had been pampered wives of wealthy men. Now they were all the same thing: Black Bear's property.