3. Natalia
THREE
I pushed through the glass doors of Miami’s DEA headquarters, the sharp report of my footsteps punctuating the hushed atmosphere of the building. Heads turned as I strode through the bullpen in my form-fitting red dress, a stark contrast to my fellow agents’ utilitarian suits and tactical gear. I ignored the raised eyebrows and curious glances; my mind focused solely on the task at hand.
I spotted Matt hunched over his desk, his brow furrowed as he pored over a stack of documents. His eyes lifted to meet mine, and for a moment, they widened, drinking in the sight of me. “Damn, Ramirez,” he breathed out, a whistle slipping through his teeth. “Tonight was the night, right? Where’s the sparkler? What the hell went down?”
His question stung, and I cringed, the ache inside my heart flaring up. “Plans changed,” I managed, my voice a thin wire about to snap. “What’s the update?”
The humor drained from his face, replaced by a knowing look. He’d always been able to read me like a book, and right now, he could see the heartache I was barely keeping under wraps.
“Our snitch hit the jackpot,” he said, sliding a folder across the desk to me. “He handed us the cartel’s drug stream on a silver platter. They’re expecting a mountain of blow in less than two hours at a warehouse. If we swoop in fast, we can catch them with their pants down and snatch a fortune in dope. Cripple their entire operation.”
I could hardly believe it. Months of dead ends and false leads had us chasing our tails, and now, the universe dropped this bombshell in our laps tonight of all nights? It felt like we’d just won the lottery on a whim.
“This is also your operation, Nat. What’s your take?” Matt’s voice cut through my thoughts, laced with an urgency that matched the pounding of my heart.
I flipped through the file, my pulse quickening as I read the intel. Warehouse location, guard rotations, entry points - it was all there. This really could be the break we’d been waiting for.
“Let’s rally the troops,” I told Matt, returning the file. “Let’s get everyone locked, loaded, and ready to kick down doors in 30.” I looked down at my dress. “Shit, I need to go change into something I can actually run in.”
Matt nodded, his eyes lingering on me for a second. “You sure you’re up for this, Nat? I mean, after what just?—”
I cut him off with a sharp look. “I’m fine,” I said, my tone brooking no argument. “My fucked up love life stays at the door. We have a job to do.”
I turned and strode off towards the lockers before he could argue, my hips swaying and drawing stares from every guy in the room. Fuck ‘em. My head was already in go mode, gearing up for the high-stakes operation ahead.
I quickly removed my dress and heels in the locker room, trading them for tactical pants, a black T-shirt, and sturdy boots.
Fuck romance. Fuck heartbreak. I’ve got a city to save and a cartel to bury. My personal life could wait.
The next half hour passed in a blur of controlled chaos as our team prepared for the raid. I strapped on my Kevlar vest with practiced efficiency, double-checking my weapons and equipment. The familiar rituals helped calm my nerves, pushing away all thoughts of Jason’s betrayal.
The ride to the warehouse was tense and silent; each agent was lost in their mental preparation. When we arrived, I signaled for the team to take their positions. We surrounded the building, weapons drawn, waiting for my command.
“On my mark,” I whispered into my radio. “Three, two, one - go, go, go!”
We burst through the doors, flashbangs and smoke grenades creating a disorienting haze. Shouts and gunfire erupted as the cartel members scrambled to react. I moved swiftly through the chaos, my gun raised.
“Ramirez, watch your six!” Matt yelled over the din. I spun just in time to see a cartel thug emerging from the smoke, his gun aimed right at me. I dropped to the ground, rolling behind a crate as a spray of bullets slammed into the concrete where I’d just been standing.
Adrenaline pumping, I popped up and returned fire, catching the thug in the chest. He crumpled to the ground, his weapon clattering uselessly beside him—no time to catch my breath. I pushed forward, clearing room after room, securing evidence, and taking out hostiles.
Just as it looked like we had the upper hand, a devastating explosion rocked the building. I was thrown off my feet, my ears ringing, and vision blurred. Dazed, I stumbled to my feet, trying to make sense of the sudden turn of events.
“Ambush!” Matt’s voice crackled over the radio. “They fucking knew we were coming!”
How could they have known? My stomach dropped when the implications hit me. Someone in the DEA must have given them a hint, willingly or by accident.
But there was no time to dwell on that now. The warehouse had turned into a kill box, cartel reinforcements swarming in from all sides.
I fought through the smoke and debris, desperately trying to regroup with my team. A bullet whizzed past my head, the near-miss a stark reminder of my mortality. Suddenly, a cry of pain cut through the din of battle. My heart seized as I recognized the voice.
“Matt!” I screamed, sprinting towards the sound. I found him crumpled behind an overturned table, clutching his abdomen as blood seeped between his fingers. “Hang on, Matt. I’ve got you.”
I dragged him to cover, pressing my hands against the wound to stem the bleeding. But it was no use. The bullet had torn through his vest, ripping into his gut. His face was ashen, his breath coming in short, wet gasps. If they were using Kevlar-piercing bullets, they didn’t just know we were coming. Somebody was deliberately trying to kill us.
Tears blurred my vision as I gripped his hand, slick with blood. “I’m not leaving you,” I said fiercely. “We’re going to get you out of here, get you patched up. Just hold on.”
But even as I said the words, I knew it was a lie. The light was fading from Matt’s eyes, his grip on my hand weakening. “It’s okay,” he whispered, a faint smile ghosting over his lips. “It’s been an honor serving with you, Ramirez. Give ‘em hell for me.”
Then he was gone, his body going slack in my arms.
A ragged sob tore from my throat, grief, and rage threatening to consume me. I gently closed Matt’s eyes, my hand trembling as I smoothed back his hair.
As I knelt there, swallowed by sorrow, a cold, hard circle of steel pressed against the nape of my neck. “Freeze,” a voice, deep and authoritative, commanded. “Lose the gun. Hands in the air.”
My pulse spiked, adrenaline flooding my veins as I carefully placed my weapon on the ground and lifted my hands skyward. My assailant came into view as he moved in front of me—a towering figure with an athlete’s grace, his hair a dark shade of blonde, and eyes of piercing blue that seemed to strip me bare. I knew him. Dante Reyes, the cartel’s golden boy.
Dante took a moment to survey me, his eyes roaming over my tactical gear and the shield lying forgotten beside me. “A woman,” he remarked, the faintest note of surprise lacing his tone. “Didn’t peg the DEA for sending a lady to a suicide raid.”
The threat hanging in the air should’ve iced my veins, but his voice—a sultry, honeyed melody—sent an unwelcome surge of heat through me. I silently chastised myself, corralling my thoughts back to the difficult reality of the moment.
“Well?” I challenged, my voice a mask of calm over the tremor of adrenaline. “What’s stopping you? Do it. Kill me.”
A smirk played on Dante’s lips, his eyes alight with mischief. “Kill you?” he repeated, the idea seemingly unthinkable to him. “Where’s the fun in that?”
He leaned in, his breath a searing whisper against my skin. “I’ve got a better idea. I’ll let you walk away. Consider it a nod to your... dedication.”
Before I could respond, the sound of approaching sirens pierced the air, signaling backup and first responders. Dante’s eyes flicked toward the entrance, and he stepped back.
“It appears our time is up,” he said, his voice low. “But, Agent... this is not over. Not by a long shot.”
And with that, he turned and disappeared into the smoke and chaos, leaving me alone with my swirling thoughts and a burning desire for answers.
I swallowed hard, my brain churning as I tried to make sense of the night’s events. My personal life was in shambles, my partner was dead, and now I had a cartel kingpin playing mind games with me. I felt a stream of frustration and a deep-seated need for revenge.
I took a steadying breath, my fingers tightening around my gun. Whatever Dante Reyes was insinuating, I would get to the bottom of whatever was going on. I owed it to Matt, and I owed it to myself.