Chapter 4 - The Price of Silence
The second floor was a labyrinth of rusting machinery and broken glass.
Each step I took was a calculated move,
my senses heightened to the point of agony.
I could hear the drip of water three rooms away,
the frantic breathing of a man hiding under a desk,
and the distant hum of the city.
I found the man under the desk and dragged him out by his hair.
He was one of Ricardo’s bookkeepers,
a small,
sniveling man who had no business being in a war zone.
"Where is she?"
I asked,
pressing the hot barrel of my gun against his temple.
"The basement,"
he whimpered,
tears streaking through the dust on his face.
"The reinforced vault under the fermenting vats."
"He’s moved her there."
"And Ricardo?"
The man shook his head,
his teeth chattering.
"He’s not here."
"He left twenty minutes ago."
"He said the trap was set."
A cold shiver went down my spine.
A trap.
I dropped the bookkeeper and spun around,
shouting into my radio.
"Victor,
status of the safe house!"
Static was the only answer.
"Victor,
respond!"
Finally,
a broken voice came through,
the sound of wind and sirens in the background.
"Boss...
we were hit."
"On the road."
"They had a truck...
an IED."
"Sofia?"
I screamed,
the word tearing out of my chest like a physical thing.
"They took her,
Boss."
"They took the girl."
I felt the world go black for a second,
my knees nearly buckling.
He had played me.
He had used Elena as a lure to get me to the distillery,
leaving Sofia vulnerable on the road.
Ricardo Vasquez wasn't just a rival;
he was a master of psychological warfare.
He knew that by showing me a glimmer of hope,
he could shatter me more effectively when he took it away.
I looked at the bookkeeper,
who was trying to crawl away.
I didn't even waste a bullet;
I simply snapped his neck and kept moving.
I didn't head for the exit.
I headed for the basement.
If Elena was still here,
I had to get her out before the building was leveled.
Because I knew Ricardo.
If he had the girl,
he didn't need the mother anymore.
He would dispose of the evidence.
I reached the vault door,
a massive slab of steel that looked like it belonged in a bank.
There was a keypad,
the numbers glowing a malevolent red.
I didn't have the code,
but I had something better.
I stepped back and signaled Marco,
who was carrying the thermal charges.
"Blow it,"
May you like
I said.
"Now."
