Chapter 34 Matei
MATEI
The SUV hasn't even stopped moving before I throw the door open and jump out. I'm running as soon as my boots hit the concrete.
"Matei! Wait!" Adrian yells behind me.
But I can't stop.
The warehouse is up ahead. Terminal 4. The pill the nurse gave me has dulled the worst of the pain, but every step still sends a jolt through my broken ribs.
Nothing matters though except getting to Jordan.
I hear the other SUVs screeching to a halt behind me as Adrian barks orders in Romanian.
"Stanga! Dreapta! Centru cu mine!"
He's splitting them into three groups to surround the warehouse.
I'm thankful I can rely on him to handle the tactics.
I just need to find her.
My lungs burn as I sprint across the open lot. The rifle strapped to my chest bounces with each stride. My handgun digs into my hip. The bulletproof vest feels like it's crushing what's left of my ribs, but I keep moving.
Footsteps pound behind me, Adrian and at least twenty of our men following.
I reach the warehouse entrance and stop just long enough to catch my breath, wincing through the pain.
Adrian appears at my side, breathing hard.
"You okay, brother?" he asks.
I look at him. His face is tight with concern, but his eyes are cold and focused.
"Depends if I get her back or not," I say.
Then I lift my automatic rifle and fire into the door handle, and Adrian kicks it open.
The door flies inward with a crash that echoes through the massive space.
I keep my rifle raised and move inside.
The warehouse is a maze of shipping containers stacked three high in some places. Dim overhead lights make it hard to see.
We move around and someone moves up ahead to my left.
I swing the rifle and fire.
The bullets tear through his chest and he drops, his gun skidding across the floor.
More gunfire erupts as Adrian and the others pour in through the entrance.
Voices shout in Bulgarian as they return fire, sparks flying off the metal containers.
I move forward, clearing corners, my rifle sweeping left to right. Every muscle in my body screams, but the adrenaline pushes me forward.
A Bulgarian appears from behind a container with a shotgun, but I'm faster.
Three shots pierce his body and he's dead before he hits the ground.
Adrian's voice comes through the chaos. "Stay on Matei."
Our men fan out, firing at the Bulgarians who are standing in my way.
I keep moving forward, deeper into the warehouse.
Up ahead on my right, I see large shipping containers connected side by side, with portable standing lights around them and the doors open.
I run toward them, rifle raised.
Please let her be here.
I reach the first container and swing inside.
At first, I can't make out if I'm looking at bodies or shadows.
My eyes adjust and I see clothes scattered across the floor. There are a few dirty mattresses, and the crunch under my feet is from tons of empty vials.
My stomach drops.
Am I too late?
"Matei!" Adrian shouts, and I run back out.
He's standing at a door on the far side of the warehouse, waving frantically.
I sprint toward him, jumping over dead bodies and pools of blood, and barrel through the door he's holding open.
Night air hits my face.
We're back outside now, on a loading dock that overlooks the water.
And there, down some stairs about 200 feet from us, part of the dock extends out over the dark water.
Girls.
At least a dozen of them stumbling down the wooden walkway, surrounded by armed men. Some of the women are crying. Others move like zombies, clearly drugged out of their minds.
And at the end of the dock.
Metal tubes rising from the water like periscopes. Hatches open. One by one, the men are loading the women inside.
Submarines.
Mini-subs for drug running, now repurposed for human trafficking.
White-hot rage explodes in my chest.
I raise my rifle and start firing.
The first shot takes a guard in the back of the head. He pitches forward into the water.
The second and third shots drop two more guards.
Chaos erupts on the dock.
The Bulgarians scatter, some returning fire wildly, others trying to hustle the remaining women into the subs faster.
Behind me, I hear our men pouring out of the warehouse. Adrian's shouting. Gunfire erupts from multiple directions as our left and right flanks come around the sides of the building.
The night lights up with Ionescu rage.
I said I'd bring hell to earth, and now I deliver.
I move forward, firing in controlled bursts. A Bulgarian pops up from behind a crate and I put two rounds in his head. Another appears from the left and Adrian drops him.
As I continue moving, something slams into my chest.
The impact knocks me backward and I hit the ground hard. Pain explodes through my torso and I gasp, trying to bring air back into my lungs.
My ribs are on fire. Everything hurts.
I run my hands over the area, worried I'll find blood, but my hands come away clean.
Then I realize. The vest. The bullet hit my vest.
I roll onto my side, finally getting air, and I force myself to my knees. My rifle's gone, dropped when I fell. I stagger to my feet and grab it.
The dock. I need to get to the dock.
I scan the chaos and then I see her.
Jordan.
She's huddled on the ground near the water's edge, her arms wrapped around another woman. Two guards stand over them, guns drawn.
Time slows.
I raise my rifle, line up the shot, and fire.
The first guard's head snaps back.
I shift aim as the second guard turns toward me just as I pull the trigger. The bullet catches him in the throat. He goes down clutching his neck.
Jordan's head whips up.
Even from this distance, even in the chaos and darkness, I see her face.
She scrambles to her feet, pulling the other woman up with her. They start running along the dock, away from the subs, toward solid ground.
I watch, frozen for a moment, and then three men break from cover and sprint after them.
No.
No no no.
I look at Adrian. He's twenty feet away, rifle raised, shooting down Bulgarians.
Our eyes meet.
"She's alive."
He turns to see Jordan and then nods.
I run.
"Acoper?-l!" Adrian yells. "Give Matei cover now! Acum. Acum."
Bullets whip past me as I sprint across the dock. Our men lay down suppressing fire, forcing the Bulgarians to take cover.
I raise my gun and fire at the three men chasing Jordan.
The first one drops and falls into the water. The other two keep running.
Jordan looks around frantically, her eyes wide with terror, and pulls the other woman faster.
A figure appears from around a shipping crate to my left.
I don't see him until it's too late.
He slams into me like a battering ram and we go down in a tangle of limbs. My rifle skitters across the dock.
The man lands on top of me, his knee driving into my already broken ribs.
I curse through the pain.
He raises a large knife and brings it down.
I twist and the blade misses my face by inches and slams into the wooden dock beside my head.
He yanks it free and raises it again.
And just as he's about to bring it back down, his head explodes.
Blood and brain matter spray across my face as his body goes limp on top of me.
I shove him off and look up.
Adrian, fifty feet away, his rifle still raised. Smoke curling from the barrel.
He nods in Jordan's direction and then shifts his gun to fire.
I grab the dead man's knife and push to my feet.
Jordan screams and I hear it over everything.
My heart races and I sprint forward.
One of the two remaining men has her. He's dragging her and the other woman toward one of the subs.
I run faster, my lungs screaming. Blood runs into my eyes from some cut on my forehead I didn't know I had.
A Bulgarian steps into my path, rifle raised.
I close the distance before he can fire, hitting the barrel away, and I drive the knife up under his chin. The blade punches through and I can see the tip of it inside his mouth.
I use my forward momentum and lift him off his feet and throw him sideways into the water.
His splash barely registers.
Ahead, a man shoves Jordan and the other woman into the sub. They're screaming and fighting, but he gets them in.
Then he shuts the hatch and starts to spin the wheel to seal them in.
"No!" I yell.
The last remaining guard stops securing the hatch and pulls out his gun.
He fires, hitting me in the arm. It burns and blood starts running down my arm, warm and thick.
I pull my handgun from where it's wedged in the back of my pants and fire round after round until the man stumbles back and falls into the water.
I toss my gun to the side and jump on the sub, both hands gripping the wheel. I try to turn it, but my hands slip from the blood.
I yell and try again. The wheel turns and I rip it open.
Inside the sub, three or four girls huddle in the cramped space. They're crying, screaming, pressing themselves against the far wall.
One of them moves.
Pushes past the others and looks up at me.
Brown eyes wide with fear and hope and disbelief.
Dark hair matted and tangled.
A cut on her cheek and her dress, that emerald dress I bought her, torn and filthy.
But it's her.
It's my fluture.
"Matei?"
Her voice breaks on my name and she starts crying.
I reach down into that metal coffin and she reaches up.
Our hands meet.
Her fingers wrap around mine and I pull.
She comes up out of the sub like she's breaking through water, gasping and sobbing.
I haul her onto the dock and she collapses against my chest.
My arms close around her.
She's shaking. Crying. Her whole body trembling.
I hold her tighter.
"I've got you," I say into her hair. My voice is rough. "I've got you, fluture. You're safe. I've got you."
Her hands tighten around my tactical vest, holding on like I'm the only thing keeping her from drowning.
Maybe I am.
"Matei." She says my name over and over. "Matei. Matei. Matei."
Gunfire still erupts around us, but it's sporadic now. My men are cleaning up.
I pull back just enough to look at her face. To make sure she's real.
Blood on her temple. Bruises forming on her cheek. Her eyes glassy, probably from the drugs.
But she's alive and in my arms.
I kiss her, then kiss her again. We hug for a moment like we're the only two people in the world.
Then the worry comes flooding in.
"Did they…" I can't finish the question. If they touched her, if they hurt her beyond what I can already see, I'll not stop now.
"No. They drugged us. Over and over. But they didn't…" she trails off. "Lindsey."
Jordan pulls away slightly, looking back at the sub. "Lindsey's still down there."
The other woman.
I look into the sub. Three girls still inside, all of them too drugged or terrified to move.
"Adrian!" I shout.
He appears beside me seconds later, breathing hard. Blood on his face that isn't his.
"Help me get them out," I say. "All of them, and let's get them somewhere safe."
My men come over and we reach into each sub, lifting the girls out one by one.
I get the woman Jordan called Lindsey out first and Jordan and her hug and start crying together.
When we've gotten all the girls out, I look to Adrian.
"Let's get them to a hospital. Get all of them medical attention. And guards. Twenty four hour guards. I don't want anyone getting near any of them."
I turn back to Jordan.
She's staring at me like she still can't believe I'm real.
"You came," she says, Lindsey right beside her.
"Of course I came."
"You're hurt." Her hand touches my arm. "You're bleeding."
"I'm fine."
"You're bleeding."
"Jordan." I cup her face in both hands. "I thought I lost you. Do you understand? I thought they'd killed you. I thought…"
I don't want to say the words.
"I thought I'd never see you again," I say again.
She leans forward and kisses me. "I'm your fluture and I’ll always come back to you."
I smile and kiss her deeply, "Yes you are."
"Sorry to interrupt, but who are you?"
"Oh, Lindsey, this is Matei. Matei, this is Lindsey."
I nod.
"I'll fill you in later," Jordan says to her.
"We need to move," Adrian says, coming up to us. "Police will be here soon. Probably already on their way."
He's right.
"Can you two walk okay?" I ask.
"I think so," Jordan says for both of them.
We reach the SUVs and Jordan and Lindsey get in, and we fill our other cars with the remaining girls.
The engine roars to life and we pull away from Terminal 4.
"Are you taking us to the hospital?" Lindsey asks, looking at me.
"My home," I say. "We'll bring the other girls to the hospital, but I'll bring the doctors to the house for both of you."
Lindsey nods and Jordan grabs my hand. I squeeze it before bringing it to my lips and kissing the back of her hand.
We're going home.
Both of us.
Together.