Chapter Fifteen Amethyst
I’m at my workstation by seven. Early. But not suspiciously early. The operations floor is quiet. Only six people here. I log in. Pull up yesterday’s reports. Routine. Normal. Unremarkable.
By seven forty-five, more people arrive. The floor fills fast with people coming in to their work stations. Conversations start. Low. Casual. Then—
“Has anyone seen Lucia?" Mateo’s voice.
From across the room. I don’t look up. Keep my eyes on the screen. But I’m listening. “Not since yesterday afternoon," someone says.
“She didn’t check in last night."
Pause.
“That’s not like her."
No. It’s not. I continue typing on my computer working on another strategy for a shipment going out tomorrow morning. Steady. Focused.
“Rafe’s still dark too," another voice adds. “Three days now."
The room shifts. It’s subtle, but I feel it immediately. Tension spreads across the floor. Concern. The beginning of alarm.
At eight-thirty Enzo arrives. He doesn’t go to his office.
Comes straight to the operations floor. Rare.
Very rare. He stops at Mateo’s workstation.
They speak. Low voices. I can’t hear the words.
But I see their faces. Enzo’s jaw is tight.
Mateo’s eyes are sharp. Scanning. Assessing.
Looking for answers. Enzo pulls out his phone.
Makes a call. Walks toward the windows. Away from the floor.
I watch from my peripheral vision. His posture is rigid.
Controlled. But there’s tension in his shoulders. He’s worried. Good.
Enzo finishes his calls by nine-thirty. He returns to Mateo, talking in hushed tones. Then Enzo raises his voice. Not loud. But enough to carry.
“I need everyone’s attention."
The floor goes quiet. Twenty-three people turn. I turn too. Look at him directly. Neutral expression. Attentive.
“Rafe and Lucia are both unreachable," Enzo says.
“Rafe for three days. Lucia since yesterday evening."
He pauses. Lets that sink in.
“We’re initiating a full internal review. I want location checks on all personnel. I want security footage reviewed for the last seventy-two hours. I want answers."
His eyes sweep the room. Land on me for half a second. Then move on.
“If anyone has information—anything unusual—you report it directly to me or Mateo. Understood?"
Murmurs of agreement. Nods.
“Get to work."
He turns. Walks back to his office. Mateo stays. Watching. I return to my screen. Type. Breathe. Stay unremarkable.
The investigation is active. Security is pulling footage, people are being questioned. Casual. Non-threatening. But thorough. Mateo moves through the floor stopping at workstations. Asks questions.
“When did you last see Rafe?"
“Did Lucia mention anything unusual?"
“Have you noticed anyone acting strange?"
He reaches my desk. Stops.
“Amethyst."
I look up. “Mateo."
“When did you last see Lucia?"
“Yesterday afternoon," I say. “Around three. She was reviewing logistics reports."
“Did she say anything about leaving early?"
“No. She seemed focused. Normal."
He nods.
“And Rafe?"
“I haven’t worked directly with Rafe in a few days. Last I saw him was three days ago. Late evening. He was heading to the server room."
“Alone?"
“Yes."
He studies me longer than necessary. Eyes sharp. Assessing. Looking for cracks. I hold his gaze without blinking. Steady. Calm. Nothing to hide.
“If you think of anything," he says, “let me know."
“Of course."
He moves on. I exhale slowly. Return to my screen.
By lunch time everyone is tense. The cafeteria is full.
But the conversations are different. Quieter.
More careful. People are watching each other.
Suspicious. Uncertain. I sit alone. Eat methodically.
Don’t engage. Mateo is at a table with three others.
His back is to the wall. Eyes on the room.
He’s coordinating. Organizing. Taking control in Enzo’s absence from the floor.
I watch him. Catalog. He’s careful. Methodical.
But he has patterns. Everyone does. He leaves the facility every evening at six PM.
Drives to a private gym. Works out for ninety minutes.
Then home. Same route. Same timing. Predictable.
But now? With two people missing? Will he change his routine?
Will he be more cautious? I need to know.
I’m back at my workstation. Enzo emerges from his office. Walks to Mateo. They speak. Then Enzo addresses the floor again.
“Security footage shows nothing unusual. Rafe was last seen entering the server room at ten PM. Lucia was last seen leaving the building at six PM."
He pauses.
“We’re expanding the search. External contacts are being notified. If anyone has information, now is the time."
Silence. No one speaks. Enzo’s jaw tightens.
“Get back to work."
He returns to his office. The door closes. Mateo stays on the floor. Watching. Always watching.
By the end of the day right at five PM, Mateo stands.
Gathers his things. Jacket. Bag. Keys. He’s leaving.
On schedule, same as always. I don’t watch him go.
Keep my eyes on my screen. But I’m aware.
Tracking. He exits through the main doors.
I wait five minutes. Then I stand. Casual.
Unhurried. Gather my things. Log out. Walk to the exit.
I’m in my car. Parked three blocks from the facility.
Watching. Mateo’s vehicle is ahead. Black sedan.
He’s driving toward the gym. Same route.
Same timing. Even with two people missing.
Even with an active investigation. He’s still following his routine.
Confident. Or arrogant. Either way. It’s exploitable.
I follow. Keep distance. Three cars between us.
He doesn’t notice. Why would he? I’m one of them.
Trusted. Inner circle. He pulls into the gym parking lot.
Parks. Gets out. Gym bag over his shoulder.
He stops for a second. He looks one way, then the other.
Glances over his shoulder. Like he’s trying to place something.
Then he moves on and walks inside. I drive past. Circle the block.
Park on the side street. Engine off. I wait.
The gym is in a commercial district. Moderate foot traffic.
But it thins after seven PM. The parking lot has cameras.
But the side street doesn’t. Blind spot.
Mateo will exit around seven-thirty PM. Walk to his car.
Alone. Vulnerable. But. Two people are already missing.
He’ll be alert. Cautious. This can’t look like the others.
Can’t be another disappearance. Not yet.
Not tonight. I need more time. More information. I start the engine. Drive away.
I’m in my room with the door locked, communicator in my hand. I press the button. Wait. Three seconds.
“Amethyst."
Kade’s voice. Raw. Strained. But controlled. Barely.
“Both absences noticed. Investigation active. Security reviewing footage. Internal review initiated."
Silence. Then—
“Are you safe?"
“Yes."
“They suspect?"
“Not yet. But they’re looking."
Pause. I can hear his breathing. Uneven. Tight.
“Targeting third within forty-eight hours," I say.
“Forty-eight hours."
“Yes."
“And then?"
“Then one remains." Silence. Longer this time.
“Kade."
“I’m here."
“I’m being careful."
“I know."
The words are calm. His voice isn’t. He doesn’t believe it’s enough.
“Check in tomorrow," he says. “Eight PM."
“Yes."
The connection cuts. I set the communicator down. Stare at it. Feel the weight. The distance. The cost.
After checking in with Kade, I return to my desk. Mateo’s schedule fills my screen. His routes. His habits. His vulnerabilities.
The gym is too public. Too many cameras in the lot.
But. He drives the same route home. Like clock work.
Through the industrial district. Past the warehouses.
The same stretch where Lucia ran. Isolated.
Low traffic after eight PM. No cameras on that section.
If I time it right. If I position correctly.
I can make it look like a carjacking. Random. Opportunistic.
Not connected to Rafe.
Not connected to Lucia.
Just another crime. Another casualty. I pull up the map.
Study the route. Mark the intersections.
The blind spots. The timing. Tomorrow, at six PM, he’ll leave the facility.
Drive to the gym. Do his workout then at seven-thirty he’ll leave the gym and drive home.
He’ll pass through the industrial district. That’s when I move.
I close the laptop. Lean back. Stare at the ceiling. Two down. Two to go. But the window is closing. The pressure is mounting. They’re looking. Investigating. Suspicious. I need to move fast. Precise. Clean. No mistakes. I close my eyes. Breathe. Count.
One.
Two.
Three.
Tomorrow, I’ll take the third. Then only Enzo remains. One final move. One final body. Then—
It’s over.