Chapter 205: Igniting the Powder Keg
[Chapter 205: Igniting the Powder Keg]
Late that night, an energetic Taylor landed at a private airport in Miami. Accompanying her were members of her band and crew. Taylor spent a few days at her parents' house in Nashville, as well as rehearsing for her song, Mean with her team.
When Ryan opened the door, Taylor eagerly pushed past him. "Let me guess, you've got a few women hiding in your room," she joked, peeking around.
Ryan laughed lightly. Both Daddario and Teresa were downstairs.
...
Earlier that afternoon, a convoy of several black vehicles rolled into downtown Miami. Although the vehicles lacked any markings, they contained an elite team of FBI and DEA agents from Alabama.
"Russell Faibisch is crafty and one of MPD's biggest donors. This operation is to stay confidential for now. We need to investigate Russell's activities in the area by piecing together the reports of his underlings," a man said from the passenger seat, speaking into his radio.
"But what if Russell catches wind and runs?" the female agent driving asked.
The man glanced at the massive stage in the distance. Although they were still miles away, it was clear how big it was. "It's Black Friday weekend for him. There's no way he's going to run."
"Once we have enough evidence, I'll contact the MPD chief. This time, he can't wriggle out of it, especially if he wants to protect his position. He'll need to agree to the prior conditions, like halting the investigation into a series of sexual assaults in Palm Beach over the past two years," he added, shutting off the radio.
The MPD had deep connections with local forces, just like other enforcement units. Everyone had their donors and their friends. This time they had solid evidence, and he intended to take the credit while also ensuring he extracted some personal gain. If that gain outweighed the accolades from the case itself, they wouldn't have to rush.
"But that falls under the local prosecutor's jurisdiction," the female agent replied.
"Well, let's see what favors he can offer the local prosecutor," the man replied with a smirk.
...
Backstage, Taylor spotted Ryan standing beside Berwick, the two looking out at the park through an opening in the stage.
Taylor followed Ryan's gaze and noticed a crowd of colorful, oddly dressed people pouring out of tents. These partygoers were just getting started; the early morning hours were their peak energy time.
She smiled, knowing the best thing she could do was not to create trouble for Ryan and let him work. Taylor quietly slipped away, ensuring Ryan and Berwick hadn't even noticed she was there.
...
"I went to check the 'stalls' in the park today. Each one has only two thugs, and with the tight space, there aren't any heavy weapons inside, just handguns. If we break into groups of four for combat, we could disable all the vending points in less than twenty minutes. There were vehicles to meet us at the four exits of the park and we would leave in those vehicles," Berwick explained, going over the plan he had rehearsed thoroughly, ensuring everything was foolproof.
Operation Codename: Robin Hood.
Ryan turned to Berwick. "You forgot the most important detail."
"Clown masks, hoods, tights -- what do you think is more fitting?" Berwick replied in a hushed tone.
Ryan shook his head. "If we're doing this, we need to blend in."
Berwick shrugged as he caught sight of a reveler leaving a tent -- a man dressed in women's clothing, complete with plastic wings on his back and heavy makeup.
...
By eight in the evening, after a brief opening act at the secondary stage, Ryan grabbed the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, hasn't this year at Ultra been insane?"
The crowd erupted in cheers.
"Have any of you noticed just how many reporters and photographers are here tonight?" Ryan pointed out.
The crowd was sectioned off by barricades, manned by security. Just beyond the barriers, more than twenty media outlets had already gathered, each having received a tip-off about Ryan's plans. They were provided food, lodging, and a generous travel stipend, all to help promote Taylor's new song and capture the upcoming chaotic scenes. With media coverage in play, Ultra would surely become the shame of the music festivals after tonight.
This was Ryan's true intention. He had never planned to buy Ultra; instead, he aimed to rebuild the festival from its ashes -- much more beneficial than a mere acquisition.
At this time, the audience in the audience had begun to shout Taylor's name.
"Taylor! Taylor! Taylor!" Their voices grew louder until finally, she appeared onstage.
She blew kisses to the crowd and shared a passionate kiss with Ryan that lasted several seconds, inciting an uproar in cheers from the crowd -- a wave of excitement that rippled throughout the park.
...
"What's happening over there?" someone called out.
"Taylor's here!" another shouted.
"The engaged couple is making moves on stage!" someone else interjected.
The buzz drew even those at the main stage, who began to make their way toward the secondary stage.
...
At that moment, the familiar intro to I Need Your Love started playing in the background.
Concurrently, a few beat-up jeeps purchased from a scrap yard parked at the park's entrance. A number of muscular men climbed out, mostly middle-aged, with fierce expressions, yet dressed in vibrant women's bikinis, topped off with quirky accessories and garish face paint.
"Ha! I gotta get a picture of this for your wife," one of them laughed.
"You don't think my paint is any less than yours, do you? Who's scared?" another replied.
"All these men passing by has such a strange look in their eyes -- I hope we won't be exposed," one of them worried.
"That just means they're interested in you," Berwick chuckled, sporting a neon-green hat that was anything but discreet.
In any other context, this look would have been wildly conspicuous, but given the crowd's colorful attire, they blended in perfectly.
"Come and pick us up in half an hour," Berwick instructed his driver to leave for now.
"Let's start the operation. We regroup here in thirty minutes." He then began giving orders to his crew.
*****
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