Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Tristan
Ihave been watching her sleep for hours.
Her small hands hold tight to the fabric of my shirt, her breathing soothing my worries, her lips parted in an invitation I would give anything to indulge.
But I am meeting Saoirse in three hours to see where we are in finding Cole and gathering more intel.
There was no need to display the details of tonight’s operation to Ella.
Still, Matt, Saoirse, and ten of my men are targeting a facility where Cole is known to have quarters, along with a warehouse where he stores a copious amount of drugs.
The latter does not interest me in the least. We have reason to believe, from thermal cameras on drones, that people could be held under the building.
Lots of them. Innocent young people stored there like cattle, to be sold to the highest bidder for reasons I would rather not imagine.
I will track him down and dismantle his rings: two birds, one stone.
I’ll have none of that in my city. Even men like me draw lines in the sand between what is acceptable and what is purely evil.
There is business, and there is predation, and both remain separated by a thin thread of morals.
Carefully, I slide out of her bed, taking in her sleeping form and tucking her cover over her, the shape of her thighs and legs distracting me. Ella. Beautiful, smart, and definitely stubborn. Why did we waste so many years apart when we could have been together instead?
And her room. Too small. Too spartan. She deserves endless bookshelves and a desk four times larger, to write her poems and draw as her heart wishes.
A dresser much bigger, filled with clothes she would love to put on, light blue and lilac, without holes or torn hems. As for her bed, she would not need this one anymore.
She would be next to me, sleeping safely every night, in my arms.
Putting my balaclava back on, I look at her one last time before opening the bay window.
Why is leaving her so…unnatural? My heart tells me to stay, but my mind knows better.
I need to find Cole as soon as I can to eliminate the threat to not only my family and my company, but Ella.
If Mara Brooks understands the leverage she could have by using Ella against me, hell will be unleashed.
I gave Ella a week to think about moving.
Still, the truth is, by tomorrow, I will have the keys to a spacious, light, and airy flat downtown, in the best neighborhood, with a day-and-night nurse, all the medical supplies needed, and people ready to move her belongings as soon as she is ready.
It’s wrong, but sometimes a hunter has to give a false sense of choice to a deer to bring it to the right place for the kill.
Only this time, there will not be any kill.
She will be there with her father, safe and sound.
I climb down the side of her house, rain dripping on me, drenching my clothes, as I hold on to the slippery wooden ladder.
I will see her tonight, after her shift, like she asked, and I intend to make the most of the moments we have together, since seeing her elsewhere could arouse suspicion.
Running through the dark of the night to my bike, I turn the engine on, careful to check that no one has seen me.
Heading to the Ashford Building, I shake the fatigue away, wind and rain waking me up.
The woman who owns my heart is sleeping soundly as I ride through the dark of the night.
Sleep tight, Ella.
As for me, I will move oceans and mountains to find a way for us to be together. And nothing will stand in our way.
* * *
“How many?” I ask, hands flat on the large meeting desk in the basement of my building.
That’s where Father used to conduct diverse…
interrogations. I can still see dark red spots on the concrete floor.
I repurposed it for off-the-record meetings and, let’s say, alternative business.
Blank walls, no windows, no natural light, bare minimum.
It’s impossible for anyone else to know where we are.
Saoirse is standing on my left, printed pictures spread across the desk, as Matt keeps explaining, both of them still dressed in tactical gear.
The others are either in other rooms getting stitches or back home resting after tonight’s assault.
It is five in the morning, and with no other distractions, we can see it more clearly.
“We found thirteen women and two young men. All of them in a distressing state of malnutrition, some bleeding from the cuffs, others in shock. We dropped them at the hospital right after, making sure no one saw us, of course, but now they are re-entering the system, getting the care they need. Soon their families will be able to get them back,” Saoirse lists, her dark hair tucked into a tight military bun, her face, despite being almost my age, betraying no trace of youth or lightness.
I doubt there is a sin she has not seen on the ground.
Matt and her do not usually work together in the field, but for a first operation, they were exceptionally well coordinated.
I nod, registering the success of this attack, of my men managing to get those people out and onto safe ground.
I will make sure to make a large donation today to the hospital, greasing the right hands working there so they can get the best care possible.
“And Cole?”
“He wasn’t there, sir,” Saoirse adds, a bruise on her lip. “We found seven of his men, though. The one leading them is waiting for you in room B34. He’s, um…” I hold back a smirk because there is a time and a place, and this is not it.
“I’m guessing you didn’t go easy on him,” I say, but Matt chuckles roughly.
“Pummeled the guy’s face with her fists, you mean? If I hadn’t stopped her, he would have looked like porridge by morning.” She rolls her eyes, and I appreciate their banter, knowing that we never need humor more than in dark times.
“What did you do with the others?”
Matt speaks. “Tied up and dropped off to the cops like Christmas presents.” Six men of the Vodianov clan that we will not have to deal with anymore. Great.
“Get some rest. I’ll make him talk.” I will not be using violence.
Instead, I will find other ways to be much more persuasive.
As in finding what motivates him, what he cares about, and pressing exactly where it hurts to gather more intel on Cole.
That is where Father was wrong. You do not always need blood to make people talk.
Press the right button, and they open like books.
“Get some sleep. I’ll get back to you in the morning, and we’ll see where to go depending on what the guy says.” I still have a few men waiting in the hallway. They’ll cuff and drive the Vodianov to the nearest police station when I am done with him.
“Copy that,” says Matt as they both give me clipped nods before heading out of the room.
I crack my neck, exiting and walking toward room B34, one of our interrogation rooms. I knock three times, and the metallic door opens onto a rather small concrete room with one neon light above a hooded man chained to a chair, dressed in a full black shirt and trousers.
His face is covered with a burlap sack, and he moves like a bird in the dark, unable to see where the predators are, fear exploding through his imagination into the worst possible scenarios.
“I’ll take it from here.” I nod at Paxos, who grunts back, in his usual habit of using the least amount of words.
Matt found him two years ago, and since then, he’s been a loyal and reliable security asset.
Dragging a chair from the corner of the room, a cheap brown plastic thing, confirming the illusion that we are nowhere near the Ashford Building, I set it before him.
The walls are soundproof, hiding any cars or honks one could hear, even in the dark hours of Westhaven.
Sitting backward on it, I sigh. It has been a long day, and I am still not done.
Sleep has been rare these last few days, but I cannot let my guard down.
I need to strike while the iron is still hot.
Paxos left a sheet with the guy’s name and the few pieces of information he managed to get out of him.
Ivan Parlov.
Runs warehouse number 4.
I keep his hood on, letting fear sink its claws into his imagination.
“You know, Ivan, there are days when you are so tired no amount of sleep could cure it.” I sigh, drifting away. “I think this is one of those,” I mutter, dropping my voice lower, giving him a false sense of security, of vulnerability.
My head hurts like a damn alarm, and I wish my girl were with me to make it go away.
“Where are the other buildings holding hostages, and how can we access them without anyone knowing?”
“I ain’t telling you shit.” He spits blood, jutting out of his gums. “Cole got you all bothered, huh? You’re in for a treat.”
“I’d rather inform you,” I say, checking his name on the sheet. “Ivan, right? My lack of patience is quite notorious.”
“Fuck you, Ashford. You’re trying to force a fortress, and guess what?
We’re waiting. Waiting to slaughter you real slow.
” He jerks his chin through the hood at his left arm, where an inked black snake runs down his forearm.
“He’ll kill what you love, Ashford. You hear me?
What you love. So if you have a pretty little thing, I’d recommend keeping it hidden because one day or another…
we’ll get rid of her real quick, and it won’t be clean, Ashford. ” I freeze.
Breathe.
You are not your father.
You do not let violence descend on you.
You are different.
Better.
You…
You…
My hand finds a screwdriver on the desk near me.
I am not violent.
I raise it above his head.
I am not violent.
If he is talking about Ella, then I will not be able to stop it.
I am not violent.