Approaching Madison Square Garden, New York City
Kane listened to Leroux as he provided a rapid update, the FBI driver blasting through the evening traffic, taking sidewalks when needed. All that mattered now was reaching the stadium.
“FBI is hitting everything they can right now, but it’s too late,” reported Leroux. “By the time the order was given, over a dozen vehicles had already entered the premises, with most of the rest within a couple of blocks.”
“Did we get any?”
“Eight.”
“Eight? Are you kidding me?”
“I wish I was, Dylan. At least it means about forty less hostiles to deal with.”
Kane shook his head. “You’re forgetting one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“If this was the plan all along, how many were already there?”
Leroux cursed. “What’s your plan?”
Kane pointed to the approaching corner, telling the driver to stop.
“I’m going to join my brothers.”