16. Aleksandras
T he smoke still clings to the air, thick and acidic. Every breath burns, searing my throat and lungs. Fuck, my head is pounding, a dull throb that refuses to fade. I feel like shit. My limbs are heavy, sluggish from whatever remnants of the chloroform are still in my system. The kitchen door is propped open, but it doesn’t do much. The air is still hazy, the faint glow of the hallway lights cutting through the murk.
I lean against the table, trying to ignore how my chest aches with each inhale. The rookie sits across from me, fidgeting with a pocketknife. He’s jittery, his nerves shot.
When I woke up about ten minutes ago, he told me I’d been out cold for about half an hour. That’s a long time. A lot can happen in thirty minutes. If the others are still out there looking for her, it has to mean that she’s still out there. She has to be.
The sound of boots on concrete drags my focus to the doorway. Bowman and Smith walk in, their faces plainly showing their annoyance.
“Did you find her?” My voice comes out rough, my throat raw from the smoke.
Bowman shakes his head. “Jameson and Clark are still out. But Vic’s on his way, so we came back.”
The room falls into a loaded silence. The kind that wraps around your throat and squeezes. None of us want to be here when Victor arrives, but there’s no avoiding it.
It doesn’t take long. The heavy slam of a door echoes through the warehouse, followed by the deliberate, measured sound of Victor’s designer shoes. He steps into the kitchen, his presence filling the room with a suffocating weight. He looks around, taking in the smoke hanging in the air, the dust particles covering the counter.
“What the fuck happened here?” His voice isn’t loud, but it cuts through the tension like a blade.
No one answers immediately. My mind scrambles for the right words, something that doesn’t sound like an excuse but keeps suspicion off me.
“I have no idea, Vic,” I reply, keeping my voice calm. “I don’t know if I dozed off or something because I don’t remember anything, but I woke up to this shit show.”
Victor’s cold eyes narrow on me, but before he can press further, the rookie speaks up.
“I think she drugged him,” he says, holding up a shredded pillowcase. “I found this next to him.”
Victor snatches it out of his hand, bringing it to his nose. His expression twists into one of irritation. “What the hell is this?”
“Bleach...I think. There was a bottle in the bathroom with some other cleaning stuff. She probably used it to knock him out.”
Victor’s gaze sharpens, his jaw tightening as he becomes more irate. “And the smoke? Did she try to set this place on fire?”
Again, the rookie pipes up. “I don’t think so. She didn’t want to endanger herself. Looks like she just wanted a distraction. I found a shit load of empty packets of sugar and creamer all over the bathroom floor, so she must’ve used that.”
Bowman groans, slamming his fist against the counter. “That’s why she kept asking for coffee with extra creamer.”
“Bitch!” I mutter, ensuring it’s loud enough for them to hear.
I’m grateful Bowman admitted that. I don’t think Victor would question my loyalty because he’s tested it so many times before. But Bowman’s inadvertent involvement removes all suspicion he might have had about me. I just need to keep playing along to prove I’m still one hundred percent committed to the job. The longer I can lead them astray, the more time I’ll buy her to get to safety.
Victor’s lips press into a thin line, his frustration barely contained. “You’re telling me she outsmarted all of you with coffee creamer and bleach?”
The tension in the room thickens. No one dares to answer.
Victor exhales sharply, slamming the pillowcase onto the table. “Idiots! A single girl outplayed all of you. Do you have any idea how much is riding on this?”
He pulls out his phone, dialing one of his men. “Get to Kenji’s house,” he orders. “Wait for her there. Intercept her before she gets to him because if he finds out we don’t have her anymore, I lose the only leverage I have.”
“She won’t get there,” I assure him. “It’s too far to go by foot, and this area’s dead at night. No one would’ve picked her up.”
Bowman steps in. “There are houses behind these buildings. Maybe she went knocking on doors for help.”
“How would she know about that?” I counter. “And even if she did, we’re locked in. There’s a wall around this entire section. It’ll take her, like, thirty minutes just to walk around to those houses, twenty minutes if she was running, and you would’ve seen her. I’m sure she’s just hiding out in an abandoned building until morning.” I stand up. “C’mon, Bowman, let’s go find her.”
I grab Smith’s jacket and head for the door. If we stay here doing nothing, Vic’s going to lose it. But if I’m out there with Bowman, it sells the lie better. And I need to get out of here before Victor starts asking questions. Questions I can’t afford to answer. Besides, if I happen to not be here when the cops arrive, that’s just dumb luck, right? Nothing suspicious about that, especially if Bowman’s with me.
We step outside, and my lungs lap up the cool, fresh air. My head’s pounding from that shitty chloroform, and my chest still burns, but I’m ready to go on this wild goose chase to look for a woman I know isn’t there. Bowman follows, grumbling under his breath.
We don’t even make it to the van.
Out of nowhere, headlights flood the lot, and the roar of engines echoes around us. My stomach drops as black SUVs screech to a halt, doors flying open. Sirens are blaring, red and blue lights flashing everywhere. Men in tactical gear pour out, shouting commands, their rifles raised and ready.
“Shit,” Bowman mutters, already reaching for his gun.
“Don’t,” I warn. “It’s over. Don’t give them a reason to shoot you.”
The rookie bolts like a scared rabbit, but he doesn’t make it five steps before they tackle him to the ground. Bowman lunges forward, but I grab his arm and yank him back. “Don’t be stupid.”
And then they’re on us.
“Hands where I can see them!” an officer bellows.
I drop to my knees, lacing my fingers behind my head. The gravel bites into my skin, but I don’t flinch. Two officers close in, one pressing his knee into my back as he cuffs me. I don’t resist. There’s no point. This was always how it was going to end.
The cold metal bites into my wrists, and I let out a slow exhale. My mind races, but my thoughts inevitably lead to one person. She actually pulled it off. Faster than I thought she would. Two hours. Barely two damn hours, and she got to the cops, convinced them to move. No help. All on her own. That plan wasn’t easy. And I can bet that her execution wasn’t flawless, but fuck, she got it done.
As they haul me to my feet, I catch a glimpse of Victor being shoved into another van, his face twisted in rage. The rookie’s crying like a kid who just got caught stealing candy.
I simply smirk, keeping my head down, so no one sees it.
She did it. She fucking did it.
“That’s my girl,” I mutter under my breath as they drag me toward the police van.
I let the pride settle within me, burning more than the ache in my chest or the cuffs around my wrists. It doesn’t matter what happens to me now. She’s free. She’s safe. That’s all I care about.