Turning the Tide

Chapter 17: Turning the Tide 

The call connected, and Quinn sat back in his chair, watching the encrypted screen flicker to life. He knew this would be a delicate conversation, but he had already prepared his approach.

"Hello," Quinn started, his voice calm and composed, "is this Draven Voss?"

There was a brief pause on the other end, and then a deep, gravelly voice responded, "Yes, Draven speaking. Who's this?"

The voice was filled with suspicion, as expected. Draven wasn't the type of man who appreciated surprise calls, especially from strangers. His line was far from public, which only added to his skepticism.

"This is the owner of the Futuristic Arms Store," Quinn said smoothly, letting the weight of his words sink in.

There was a noticeable shift on the other end of the line. Draven went silent, likely piecing things together. The Futuristic Arms Store had made waves in the underworld recently, especially on the dark web. In just a week, it had become one of the most sought-after sources for high-tech weaponry. Its supply was limited, making it even more coveted by those who wanted a cutting-edge arsenal. Many had tried to establish contact with the elusive supplier, but until now, no one had managed to secure a direct line.

Quinn's gamble had paid off. He had Draven's full attention.

Draven finally spoke, but now his tone had shifted from suspicion to intrigue. "Futuristic Arms Store, huh? You've been causing quite a stir on the market lately. What can I do for you?"

"I'm here to make you an offer," Quinn continued, keeping his tone light yet assertive. "I'm willing to supply you with weapons—at a discount. But there's a condition."

Draven's skepticism returned for a moment. "A discount, huh? What's the catch?"

"The premise is simple," Quinn replied smoothly. "After you defeat the government and take control, I want to be your exclusive weapons supplier for the rebel army. No one else—just me."

Silence hung between them again, but this time it was Draven processing the offer. Quinn knew that Draven wasn't a man who made decisions lightly. He would be calculating the risks, weighing the pros and cons.

Draven's voice broke the silence. "You're asking for a pretty big commitment. Why should I trust you? For all I know, this could be a setup."

Quinn expected this reaction. Trust was always in short supply in these circles, especially with stakes this high. He decided to lean into the store's reputation.

"I understand your hesitation," Quinn said. "But think about this—I didn't track you down for no reason. I have what you need. You've heard of the Futuristic Arms Store; you know the kind of weapons we deal with. Cutting-edge tech, the likes of which your enemies have never seen. You're running a rebellion, Draven. You need an advantage, and I can give you that."

Draven didn't respond right away. Quinn imagined him sitting there, deep in thought. After all, this was no small decision. However, the allure of the store was undeniable. Its reputation for top-of-the-line weaponry had spread like wildfire across the dark web. Those who managed to get their hands on its products had sung their praises, claiming they had never seen anything like it. Weapons that could change the tide of battle with their sheer technological superiority.

And Draven was desperate. He needed more firepower to continue his campaign against the South African government. He needed an edge.

"I've heard good things about your store," Draven said, his voice more measured now. "But I'll be honest—I don't know if I can commit to an exclusive deal just yet. I need results first."

Quinn smiled, knowing that this was the opening he had been waiting for. "I wouldn't expect anything less. Let me prove it to you. I'll supply you with what you need now, and once you see the results on the battlefield, we can discuss a long-term arrangement."

Draven hesitated for a moment longer, but Quinn knew he had him. The temptation was too great. Finally, Draven sighed. "Alright. You've got a deal. But don't screw me over. If you do, you'll be dealing with more than just the rebel army."

Quinn's smile widened. "I wouldn't dream of it."

The call ended, and Quinn leaned back in his chair, satisfied. Draven was in. Now, it was time to deliver on his end of the bargain.

---

On the other side of the world, Draven sat at his desk, staring at his phone in disbelief. His number wasn't exactly public, which made him immediately suspicious of the call. But when he heard that it was the owner of the Futuristic Arms Store, his skepticism had quickly turned to excitement.

The store had gained a massive reputation in the criminal underworld in an astonishingly short amount of time. It had become one of the most coveted suppliers of high-tech weaponry, and those who had been lucky enough to get their hands on its products had raved about their quality. Some had claimed that the weapons were so advanced they seemed like they came from the future.

Draven had tried to get in contact with the store himself, but with no luck. The demand for their weapons was overwhelming, and supply was limited. Only regular customers got priority orders, and the leftovers were distributed among the rest. The Raven Cartel had been trying to get a large shipment for weeks, but every time they placed an order, they were too late. The supply had already been snatched up.

But today was different. Today, the store had reached out to him personally, offering a deal.

Draven couldn't believe his luck. Not only was he about to get his hands on the weapons he needed to push the rebellion forward, but the store was offering him a discount. It was almost too good to be true.

Without wasting any time, Draven picked up the phone and called his boss—Joaquin 'El Cuervo' Voss, leader of the Raven Cartel.

The line connected, and Joaquin's deep voice came through. "What is it, Draven? This better be good."

"It is," Draven replied, unable to hide the excitement in his voice. "You're not going to believe this, but I just got a call from the Futuristic Arms Store."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. Joaquin had been trying to get in contact with the store for weeks with no success. The fact that they had reached out to Draven directly was significant.

"Go on," Joaquin said, his tone now laced with interest.

"They want to supply us with weapons," Draven continued. "The same high-tech stuff that everyone's been talking about. And they're offering us a discount—on the condition that they become our exclusive supplier after we win the war."

Joaquin was silent for a moment, processing the information. Then, to Draven's surprise, the cartel leader chuckled. "Well, well, well. It seems our luck is finally turning. You did good, Draven. I want you to move forward with this. Make the deal, and get those weapons."

"I already agreed," Draven said, feeling a surge of pride. "They'll be supplying us with everything we need to push forward."

Joaquin was pleased. "You've done well, Draven. I'm sending you five million dollars as a reward. Keep up the good work."

The call ended, and Draven sat back in his chair, feeling a sense of accomplishment. Not only had he secured the weapons they needed, but he had earned his boss's approval—and a hefty reward to go along with it.

For the first time in weeks, Draven felt like the tide was turning in their favor. With the weapons from the Futuristic Arms Store, they would be unstoppable. The South African government wouldn't stand a chance.

As Draven leaned back, a smile crept across his face.