Chapter 5 - Whispers in the Dark
The ironworks at Pier 9 was a graveyard of rusted shipping cranes and abandoned industrial warehouses bordering the black waters of the river. Rain lashed against the windshield of Mateo’s Charger as he killed the headlights two blocks away, allowing the vehicle to coast silently behind an overgrown perimeter fence.
Mateo checked his tactical gear under the dim glow of the dashboard clock: 11:42 PM. He slotted fresh magazines into his Kimber .45, slipped a serrated combat knife into his combat boot, and checked his secondary piece. He wasn’t naive enough to believe Julian Montoya intended to trade Clara and let him walk away. The son was far more reckless and bloodthirsty than the father ever was.
Inside the sprawling, cavernous warehouse, Clara was tied to a battered steel chair under the harsh glare of a single overhead halogen light. Her uniform was torn at the collar, blood trickling from a cut above her eyebrow, but her eyes held a defiant, stubborn glare that refused to break.
Standing before her, holding an unlit cigar, was Julian Montoya. Tailored in Italian cashmere, his hair slicked back with arrogant precision, he circled Clara like a hyena sizing up prey.
""You really don't understand your place, do you, Clara?"" Julian murmured, leaning down and tapping her freshly bruised wrist with the tip of his gold lighter. ""You think that ghost from ten years ago can save you? Mateo Cruz is an old relic. My father’s obsession, not mine.""
""He will rip your throat out,"" Clara spat, her voice shaking with raw defiance despite her terror. ""I know Mateo. When he sees what you did to me, there won't be enough left of you to bury.""
Julian chuckled, a chilling sound that echoed through the vast emptiness of the warehouse. He gestured toward the shadows, where five heavily armed mercenaries emerged, carrying automatic rifles fitted with suppressors.
May you like
""That's the point, darling,"" Julian sneered, stepping behind her and wrapping his hands around the back of the chair. ""I didn't bring him here to talk. I brought him here for target practice. Look up.""
Clara followed his gaze toward the rusted metal rafters above. Hidden in the darkness, red laser sights were already calibrated on the entrance.
