Chapter 30 Cortez
Chapter thirty
Cortez
My mind is a mess. We’re still trying to find out whatever we can about Nero. Selene has still not been found. And I’m losing my temper.
Suddenly, someone bursts into my office, the door almost rattling off its hinges. Anger flicks my chest when I turn to see Alej, but the words die on my lips at the haste in his eyes.
“Boss,” he breathes hard like he’s just run a marathon. One of the very few times I’ve seen him lose composure. “You have to listen to this.”
He taps the tablet in his hand and pushes it towards me on the table. Curiosity furrows my brows as I listen. Then her voice reaches my ears, light and feathery amidst the rustling of wind and crunching of boots against gravel.
“Luca.”
I sit up, my muscles tensing.
Luca Vasquez? He’s alive?
“…After I got shot in the stomach, they found me half dead on the street where I’d managed to run to. They to-took me in. I didn’t reach out to you because I didn’t want to put you in danger. Th-Then I-I started leaving hints for you, hoping one day you’d see them.”
“Who are they?”
“This group...syndicate. They’re always watching...”
I slide a raging gaze to Alej’s. His face is now deadpan…hard.
My fingers clench into a fist as I continue to listen, each word she says slicing guilt into my chest.
“Look there’s this group. All masked men and code names. I don’t know them…or even their names but…”
Fuck. Light rustling reaches my ears before Luca continues.
“…the brand name is Reform. Their agenda is…I don’t know, but it’s something twisted. Bigger than your fiancé or his mafia.”
My pulse thunders beneath my skin.
“…The one that always threatens to kill you if I misbehave.”
“…. T-Tell him he’s not the king—he’s the knight in the way of checkmate.”
Something slams into me, gut-wrenching and twisting. I fist the edge of the desk, my knuckles turning impossibly white at his words.
A knight in the way of checkmate. That could only mean one thing. I’m an obstruction to their goal.
“I brought guns…and cash, Luca. You can escape now.”
The agony in her voice tugs at my heart. She recorded it. She wanted me to know. All this time, she was trying to protect her brother. Not escape.
I pay attention to each word being said until the recording stops.
“è arrivato con un biglietto (It came with a note).” Alej gestures to the phone.
My blood runs cold once I take in the text.
Ramirez has me. Don’t know where I am. Please come fast.
Red is all I see as I swipe my hands against the surface of the desk, sending everything crashing down in a furious clash.
“Fuck!”
My chest burns with a mix of emotions. Guilt. Anger. And…fear. That Ramirez bastard is unstable. He could do anything to her.
“Call our guy in telecom. Voglio che quel segnale sia triangolato (I want that signal triangulated). Adesso (Now)!”
“On it.” He nods and walks out of the office, dialing a number on his phone.
I turn sharply towards the wall and smash my fist into it. Pain ricochets through my arm, but I barely feel it. The only thing I feel is the heat in my veins, burning and begging to be unleashed.
Ramirez has her.
Growling in anger, I slam my fist again and again until blood pours from my knuckles.
The door opens mid-slam and Alej walks back in, phone pressed against his ear.
“Boss, we got something.”
My senses are on alert.
“The signal bounced off a cell tower just outside San Ricardo. It’s low but enough to pin a location.”
“Cosa abbiamo (What do we have)?”
“An abandoned warehouse near the outskirts of the city.”
I’m already moving, drawing a gun, and holstering the other. “We’re moving. Now!” I bark.
***
As the car slides through the night, I replay the audio in my head again.
Tell him he’s not the king—he’s the knight in the way of checkmate.
That just reinforces what we’ve always thought. There’s something bigger at play. But it gives a new perspective. Reform isn’t run by a known mafia, it’s run by a group—a syndicate. And I am not the target, something or someone else is…something fit to be a king to a powerful syndicate.
The tires screech to a halt, and I lift my eyes to see the abandoned warehouse at a distance.
The sky is dark, with occasional streaks of lightning flashing across. Cold wind slaps my face as I step out, cocking my gun.
“Three on the west. Two north. That’s as far as I can count from here,” Alej informs from behind his binoculars.
My jaw ticks. The bastard is prepared. “We move quietly. Ramirez is mine.”
The other guards fall into step as Alej quietly barks orders at them. Rusted siding, broken windows and flickering lights come into view as we crouch towards the entrance, guns aimed.
I hide behind some canisters that are a few feet from the main entrance of the building. The men flank out to the other side, lowering themselves behind canisters. Flicking two fingers, I signal to them, and they move forward like shadows in the night. Then…fire.
The silencer nulls the sound, but I hear bodies drop to the ground. Nodding at Alej, I step out, crouching hurriedly towards the entrance.
We’ll take Ramirez and his goons by surprise.
The winds howl more intensely, and rain patters on the ground, but I’m already leaning against the entrance, Alej on the opposite side of me.
Alej moves to open the door when a guard suddenly shouts from beside the building. Then the silence shatters.
Gunfire scatters the atmosphere as its flashes pierce through the dark night.
Shit. We’ve been spotted.
The door breaks open as Alej kicks it. He shoots the first two people he sees before giving me the go-ahead. I jump inside, immediately taking in the large space when men troop in from behind a large container.
I open fire, shooting the first two I see. The first crumples to the ground, blood coating his chest and the second staggers before Alej finishes him with a shot to his chest.
The rest open fire, yelling commands in Spanish. I quickly dive behind a crate as the gunshots rain nonstop, slipping to the side and taking down as many men as the narrow angle allows.
Soon backup arrives, opening ceaseless fire.
“Push forward!” I bark and they flank out, splitting into two groups. Some remain at the center, tackling the opponents, while some flank out towards the staircase.
Removing myself from behind the crate, I shoot down anything in my way as I run up the narrow staircase. There are more men upstairs, and I swiftly duck and shoot until I catch a door on the far end of the space the stairs lead to.
Heading towards it, I dive my elbow into the guts of a guard that tries to stop me and yank a knife from my boots, digging it into the neck of another.
I ram my shoulders into the door, and it breaks open instantly, plunging me into a dark room with peeling paint, a chair, an adjoining bathroom, and a sink.
She’s not here.
I turn to leave when something catches my attention on the chair—a burner phone—the same one we suspected Selene had taken. Anger courses through me as I walk to pick it up.
The screen is broken, but it still works. My fingers quake as I navigate to the messages and see the recording she sent.
Fuck! He must have caught her. I fist the phone in my hand, thoughts spinning in my head.
Alej appears beside me. “They’re not in the warehouse. They must have escaped during the chaos.”
My breath thickens as I slam the phone against the ground, realization dawning on me. “No. The guards weren’t protecting anything. They were buying Ramirez time.”
“Shit!” Alej curses, and I stride out, the rage thickening with each step.
“Sweep the perimeter! Tire tracks, boot prints, anything. I want my fiancée found!”