Chapter Sixteen Amethyst
The following morning the operations floor is different.
Tense. Watchful. Security presence has doubled.
Two guards at the entrance. Three more on the floor.
Visible. Deliberate. A message. I arrive at seven-fifteen.
Swipe my badge. The guard watches me. Studies my face.
Checks his tablet. Then nods. I walk to my workstation.
Log in. Normal. Routine. But nothing feels normal.
At seven forty-five Enzo arrives. Mateo is with him. They walk through the floor together stopping at workstations. They’re asking questions in low voices with serious expressions. They reach my desk. Both of them.
“Amethyst," Enzo says.
I look up.
“Enzo. Mateo."
“Four days," Enzo says. “Rafe’s been gone four days. Lucia, two."
I nod. Say nothing.
“You worked with both of them," Mateo adds.
“Yes."
“Notice anything unusual? Anything at all?"
I pause. Consider.
“Rafe was focused on the server upgrades. He mentioned staying late to finish them. Lucia was coordinating the eastern routes. She seemed... normal. Professional."
Enzo’s eyes narrow slightly.
“When did you last speak to Rafe?"
“Late afternoon five days ago. He said he’d be working late."
“And Lucia?"
“Around three in the afternoon. She was reviewing logistics."
Mateo exchanges a glance with Enzo.
“If you think of anything else," Enzo says, “you come directly to me."
“Of course."
They move on. I return to my screen. Type. Breathe. Stay unremarkable.
By eleven-thirty the floor is buzzing with low conversations. Speculation. Fear. People are scared. Two high-level operatives missing. No explanation. No bodies. No answers. Just gone. I listen. Catalog.
“Maybe they left," someone says.
“Both of them? At the same time?"
“Could be a coincidence."
“Or they were taken."
“By who?"
Silence. No one has an answer. I keep my eyes on my screen. But I’m tracking Mateo. He’s at his workstation. Tense. Shoulders tight. Jaw clenched. But he’s still here. Still working. Still following his routine.
At two-thirty Mateo stands. Stretches. Walks to the break room. I wait thirty seconds. Then follow. He’s at the coffee machine. Alone. I pour water. Casual.
“Long day," I say.
He glances at me.
“Every day is long right now."
“Any leads?"
“Nothing solid. Security footage shows Rafe entering the server room. Never leaving. Lucia leaving the building. That’s it."
He takes a sip of coffee.
“It’s like they vanished."
I nod. Sympathetic. Concerned.
“You think someone’s targeting us?"
“Nothing about this makes sense. People don’t just disappear."
He sets his cup down. Looks at me directly.
“Be careful, Amethyst. Until we know what’s happening, everyone needs to be careful."
“I will."
He walks out. I pour my water. Slow. Deliberate. He’s worried. Not worried enough. The body should’ve been found by now. They know Rafe entered the server room. They should’ve looked. Should’ve found him.
But it sounds like someone moved the body.
Someone with access.
Someone careful. Careful enough to not be seen by the cameras.
Who?
A problem for later. Right now, Mateo is the first priority.
I gather my things at five. Jacket. Bag.
Keys. Log out. Stand. Mateo is still at his desk.
Working. He’s very focused on whatever assignment he’s working on.
I walk to the exit and swipe my badge. The guard checks his tablet, nods at me.
I walk outside, giving the guard a small wave as I pass him.
The air is cold. Sharp. I walk to my car, I moved it closer to the facility after following Mateo yesterday to his gym.
I get in and start the engine. I drive toward the industrial district.
At five forty-five, I’m parked on a side street.
Two blocks from Mateo’s route. Different vehicle than yesterday.
I stopped by the facility’s pool and “borrowed” one of their vehicles.
Hopefully they won’t need it till after I get back.
This vehicle is unremarkable and very common.
I’m wearing dark clothes. Hood. Gloves. A knife in my pocket.
It’s small, sharp and concealable. And now, I wait.
Mateo’s car passes at six-fifteen. Black sedan.
Heading toward the gym. Right on schedule.
I start the engine. Following him at a distance, I watch as he parks.
Gets out. Gym bag over his shoulder. Walks inside.
I drive past. Circle the block. Park on the side street near his return route.
The street is narrow. Lined with warehouses.
No foot traffic. No cameras. Perfect. I turn off the engine and wait.
This is the job. The waiting, the watching, the part that matters. One mistake and everything falls apart.
The sun is setting. Orange light fading to gray. The street is empty. Quiet. I check my watch.
Seven o’clock. Maybe thirty minutes until he leaves the gym. Less if he cuts his workout short.
I pull my hood up to better conceal my face and check the knife. Ready.
A car passes but it’s not Mateo’s. I stay still. Invisible. Another car. Then silence. I breathe. Slow. Controlled. Count.
One.
Two.
Three.
At seven twenty-four I see headlights. It’s a black sedan. Mateo. He’s driving slowly. Cautious. The investigation has made him careful. But not careful enough. He passes my position. Continues down the street. I wait. Five seconds. Ten. Then I move.
I’m out of the car walking fast but not running.
My hood is up. Hands buried in my pockets. He’s fifty feet ahead. Slowing for the turn. I close the distance.
Thirty feet.
Twenty.
Ten.
He stops at the intersection. Checks his mirrors. I’m in his blind spot. He starts to turn. I move. Fast. Around to the driver’s side. Knock on the window. Hard. Urgent. He looks. Sees me. Hooded figure. Hand gesturing. He hesitates. Then he rolls the window all the way down.
Mistake.
“What—"
I move quickly leaning into his window and shove the knife into his throat. Deep. Precise. He jerks. Grabs at the blade. I pull it out. Blood sprays. Hot. Fast. He tries to scream. Can’t. The sound is wet. Gurgling.
I reach through the window. Grab his watch. Yank it off. Grab his wallet from the console. His phone. He’s thrashing. Weakening. I step back. Let him bleed.
Fifteen seconds.
Twenty.
His movements slow, then stops all together. I turn and walk away. Calm. Unhurried. Just another mugger. Another street crime. I’m back at my car in five minutes. I start the engine and drive at a normal speed. No rush. Just need to get back to my room before eight.
I’m back at the facility and in my room by seven-fifty.
I lock the door and strip off the hoodie, the gloves, and I bag them.
Mateo’s watch, wallet, and phone need to be disposed of.
I remove the SIM card and snap it. I crush the phone beneath my heel.
I take the cash from the wallet, and cut up all the cards.
Everything goes into separate bags. I’ll dispose of them in different locations.
Dumpsters, drains, scattered. Untraceable.
I wash my hands. Face. Change clothes. Sit on the edge of the bed.
Breathe. Check my watch. Seven fifty-eight.
Two minutes to spare. I take a deep breath and pick up the communicator and sit on the bed as I exhale out.
I press the button. Wait. Three seconds.
“Amethyst." Kade’s voice. Barely human. Raw. Desperate.
Third target down. Made to look like street robbery. Investigation intensifying."
Silence. His breathing is ragged. Uneven.
“When?" he asks.
“Final target within forty-eight hours."
“Forty-eight."
“Yes."
Pause. Longer this time. I can hear something in the background. Movement. Pacing. “Kade."
“I’m here."
“I’m almost done."
“Almost." His voice cracks. Just slightly. But I hear it.
“One more," I say. “Then I’m coming home."
“Home." He repeats the word like he doesn’t believe it.
“Yes."
Silence.
“Check in tomorrow," he says finally. “Eight PM."
“Yes."
The connection cuts. I set the communicator down. Stare at it.
Three down. One to go. But Enzo is different.
Smarter. More careful. More dangerous. And now he’ll know.
Three of his people gone. He’ll be looking.
Suspicious. Alert. The window is closing.
Fast. I need to move. Soon. Before he figures it out.
Before he realizes. I lie back on the bed. Stare at the ceiling. Count.
One.
Two.
Three.
Tomorrow. I’ll plan the final strike. And then, this ends.