28. Stefano
On the way to the hospital, I explain everything I know and who we're going to see. James listens carefully, working out the plan in his head.
"I'll keep an eye on the door and keep everyone out while you have a word with him," James says, ready to do whatever it takes. I know I can count on him in any situation. Including this one.
It's easier than we think to get down to the morgue without being asked questions. Hospital security is slacking, and no one even glances our way as we step into the elevator and press to close the doors.
The lower levels are quiet and when I push the morgue door open the only person I find alive in there is Pillia.
"Pillia, my name is Stefano. I have a few questions for you."
Of course, Pillia is not very forthcoming with information in the beginning. In fact, he spends a good amount of time denying even knowing someone called Matteo.
I guess this shouldn't surprise me because why would he want to freely admit that he's been doing dealings with black market organ trafficking. He'd lose his job and his license, and of course, end up in jail. If I reported him that is. But I'm not that kind of guy.
He's likely to lose more than his license if he doesn't start giving me answers.
Pillia made the mistake of underestimating my level of determination and when I pull out my knife and slam his hand against the steel table where the bodies are usually autopsied - he begins to realize that lying to me is going to be costly.
"I'll give you one more chance to tell me what I want to know, Pillia." I say, pressing the blade against his fingers. "After that, I'm going to start cutting these off, one by one."
"Ok, fuck, man, jeez. I know him, ok. Fuck. I know Matteo. I know him. Dude, please, don't fucking cut my fingers off."
I grab his wrist and twist it, hearing a loud pop. He screams and I kick him in the ribs, cutting the sound off.
He's lying on the floor gasping in pain as I stand over him. "Now that I've made myself clear - I assume the rest of the conversation is going to go smoothly. So, tell me, where have you met Matteo in the past? Where can I find him now?"
He's shaking as he tries to pull himself together. His one hand in the air, broken, his other hand grasped tightly over his ribs, which might also be broken.
"I - I sometimes - I deliver bodies. Unclaimed bodies. I deliver them to a building, and he pays me. But I swear it's Jane Doe and John Doe, man - no one anyone would miss. I only sell the unknown ones to him. He uses the organs, to help other people. That's all I know."
"I don't give a fuck what he does with the bodies or how you justified this whole shit show. I want to know where the building is."
"The building's called Grey Stone Towers. It's falling apart. Abandoned. But that's where he works from. I think the street name is Ferndale or something like that."
He has shifted across the floor, propping himself up against the back of one of the steel tables. His eyes are locked on me, scared, wondering what's going to happen next.
"All good. I've got it on Google Maps." I say, staring down at my phone and the location of Grey Stone Towers.
"Thanks for your help, Pillia. I was never here."
"Yeah, sure, sure, I never saw you before in my life." He agrees.
I turn towards the door to leave and James pulls it open for me.
"You get what you need?"
"Got it.
"Where are we going?" he asks, keeping pace behind me as we head back towards the elevators. I'm eager to go straight to Grey Stone Towers. I don't want to waste another second.
"Abandoned part of town. I'll send the location to your phone."
"I'll call for backup."
"I'm not waiting. Have them meet us there." James immediately gets onto his phone to call the team.
We head out to the car and the GPS tells me we are twenty-five minutes away.
Those twenty-five minutes are the longest in my life.
I feel so close to saving them, but so far, knowing anything can happen in that time.
James drives as though the devil is chasing us. The sun is beginning to peak over the tops of the buildings and morning traffic is starting. "Go around. We don't have time."
James pulls onto the pavement and people scream, leaping out of the way as he slams his hand against the horn.
Once we are clear of the busy parts of town the driving gets easier.
This area is shady. It's decrepit and dirty, the perfect place to run an illegal black market organ trafficking ring.
"What the fuck did you get yourself into, Matteo?" I say to myself as we drive past abandoned buildings towards Grey Stone Towers.
Finally, James pulls up outside a tall, dark, and looming building.
I stare up towards the top, which is hidden above the clouds. For the life of me, I can't figure out how the building is still standing it's so broken and old.
On one corner the entire wall has fallen away, and I can see into what was once someone's apartment.
I pull out my gun as we enter the foyer. Back in its day, it might have been a beautiful place, but not anymore. Now it's a hellhole - a cesspool of death and stench.
"Keep your eyes open," I whisper. "They could be anywhere.
On each floor we pause, listening, tilting our heads, staying quiet.
But lucky for me, Matteo is a fucking idiot and by the time we reach the top of the stairs on the third floor we can hear their voices traveling towards us. He isn't even trying to be quiet. I guess he truly believed he was untouchable.
I signal to James to stay behind me. I don't want to take any risks because of the lives at stake here.
Just outside the door, with our backs pressed against the wall, James nods to let me know he's ready. I'm going in first. James must wait outside.
I burst in loudly, my gun aimed at anything that moves. One of the men dressed in scrubs drops to the floor. The other tries to run. I fire one shot which pierces his skull, exploding out the other side and his body slams into the ground.
Matteo comes from around the corner with Elle pressed in front of him. She's crying, begging to be let go.
Amelia is strapped to a bed just behind them.
"Are you ok?" I speak directly to Amelia.
She nods, but I can see the dark bruise on the side of her face.
"Stefano, please, give him whatever he wants," Amelia begs as tears stream from her eyes.
"Give me what I want, Stefano." Matteo laughs.
"I'll kill you," I say calmly. "That's obviously what you want, otherwise you would never have done any of this."
Matteo nods towards his guard who lifts his gun towards me.
"Kill him. We can harvest his organs as well."
Just at that moment James bursts through the door, rolls, and fires two shots - one into the heads of each of Matteo's guards.
Matteo shudders in fright and for a second his grip on Elle loosens. I take my shot, hitting him in the shoulder.
He lets her go and in slow motion I leap forward to catch her as Matteo spins from the impact of the bullet, landing on his back, writhing in pain.
James rushes forward to restrain my half brother while I cradle my daughter in my arms.
Elle's little arms are gripped so tightly around my neck that I can feel her shaking.
"It's ok, my angel. Everything is going to be fine now I promise you."
"What do you want me to do with him?" James asks, hauling Matteo to his feet, his hands cuffed behind his back.
"Take him home. Put him in the cellar. I'll be right behind you."
James leaves with Matteo and I move towards Amelia to unbuckle her restraints.
I want to pull her into my arms as well, but Elle is holding too tightly onto me.
Amelia helps me find the keys to the Mercedes parked outside.
Elle won't let me put her down the entire time I'm looking.
I walk down the stairs, looking around this disgusting building, and I can't even imagine the horrors that have taken place here.
My brother doesn't deserve to live - and that is why I don't feel a shred of remorse for what I'm about to do to him.
Back at home I first take care of Elle and Amelia, making sure they are both ok.
Amelia won't leave Elle's side, shaken by what's happened.
"It's all my fault. I should never have trusted him." She keeps whispering over and over.
I step towards her, pulling her face to look at me. "Amelia, listen to me. You did what you thought was best. You wanted to help her."
"I was so stupid."
My heart aches for her as I pull her against my chest and hold her tightly.
"I'm going to fix it," I promise.
I leave Amelia sitting in the room with Elle and head downstairs.
The doctor has arrived.
He came at a price, but any price is worth it.
"The donor is downstairs in the cellar." I nod towards the cellar door.
"The chances of him surviving…"
"I don't care. I don't want him to survive. If you could get his liver out of his body without sedatives, I'd tell you to do that."
"I can't."
"It's fine. Just get the liver. I have another doctor who is going to be prepping the young girl who is receiving the transplant. You will have to communicate with him."
The doctor nods and carries his bag towards the cellar door.
It's up to them now.
All we can do is wait.
Upstairs I find Amelia standing to the side of the room, watching as the doctor starts prepping Elle for surgery.
"I want to help." Amelia insists when I walk into the room.
"It's not a good idea. You're too close to her. You won't be thinking clearly. And you haven't even slept. Let them do their job."
I can see that Amelia knows I'm right.
We both stand near Elle until the doctor tells us it's time for us to leave the room.
I grab Amelia's hand and reluctantly she follows me downstairs to wait there.
We are both anxious, our legs bouncing, waiting for them to finish.
It takes longer than it would in normal surgery because of the setup, but finally, both doctors came out to speak to us.
Amelia jumps to her feet and stands, her hands twisting and fidgeting in front of her.
"Elle did great. She's a strong little girl. She's going to take a while to wake up and you need to please let her rest as much as possible. Don't force her to wake."
Amelia nods, her eyes wide as she listens to the words.
"So, she's ok? The transplant went well?"
"Yes, it went perfectly. Everything went great. Elle is upstairs, in her own bed."
Amelia doesn't waste a second. "I'm going to sit with her." She says, then rushes away from me, towards our daughter.
I turn towards the doctor. "The donor?"
"He's still alive, but we haven't stitched him up. He won't survive."
"Thank you."
James lets the doctors out and I go to the cellar, looking down the stairs toward my brother's body, lying on the steel table.
He's still alive.
I pull the cellar door shut.
He can scream all he wants. No one will hear him.
Upstairs in Elle's room, I sit with Amelia. She is in a chair, right next to the bed, her eyes locked onto our daughter.
"You should try and get some rest," I say after a while.
"No, I won't leave her." She replies without looking at me.
"Elle is going to be fine. You need to rest." I try again.
"No."
I shake my head. "I'm going to make you some food at least then."
I head down to the kitchen. The chef made dinner for us, but no one ate, and it's in the oven, keeping warm.
I dish up a small amount of the lasagna onto a plate for Amelia. I know she isn't going to eat a lot, but she has to at least eat something.
I carry the plate upstairs, but when I walk into Elle's room I find Amelia with her head resting on Elle's bed, fast asleep.
She looks so uncomfortable; I can't possibly leave her there.
I put the lasagna down on the dresser and walk quietly over to Amelia, scooping her up into my arms.
She mumbles a little, then rests her head on my shoulder.
I carry her through to my bed. She is not sleeping in the guest room anymore.
Placing her gently into the bed I start untying her shoes to pull them off.
She wakes up frightened.
"Elle." She mumbles.
"Lay down, Amelia. You have to sleep. I will call you as soon as Elle wakes up, I promise."
Amelia is too tired to keep her eyes open and they practically roll back in her head as she flops back down onto the pillow. Within seconds she is fast asleep again.
I pull the blankets up around her and tuck her in. Then I lean forward and softly kiss her cheek.
"It's all going to be ok now," I whisper.