Fall by Autumn Archer
15
Dry dirt plumes as the private chopper descends. We’re hovering on the outskirts of Brasilia, a few yards from the abandoned aircraft hangar where I lured Miguel.
A utility helicopter transporting my special ops guys lands next to us. Barren ground stretches for miles, tapering to a clear blue sky. The bold sun sinks to the horizon, dropping my temperament to subzero.
I’m laser focused on the retrieval mission, having pushed Iris into the depths of my mind. My men and I are exposed without a network of trees to conceal our identities and protect us from bullets. As I look around, I can’t help but think it wasn’t only Iris who was held hostage by the remoteness of a wild landscape.
This is the first time I’ve ventured out of the rainforest after years of hiding. I hesitate before disembarking, mentally preparing to plant my boots on concrete. The door shunts sideways, and I virtually heave myself out, not wanting to smell the city air that stinks of pollution and urban decay.
One after the other, men dressed in black to mirror my own clothes exit the adjacent aircraft. A gentle breeze tumbles parched weeds in our path. My hidden hands curl to fists with apprehension. I haven’t seen this fucker since that day. On the surface I’m calm and composed, yet beneath my crawling skin, my pulse hammers.
“Sir.” A trained medic joins my side. Together, his strides match my fast pace. “Are we certain the hanger is secured?”
“Yes,” I confirm, pushing metal framed aviators further up my nose. “Luiz detained the prisoner. The rest of Miguel’s men are dead.”
“Understood.” He shrugs an emergency medical backpack onto his shoulders as we march in the direction of the old building. “We need to locate all our men. Dead and alive.”
“Agreed.” I roll out my neck, wondering if Miguel is still unconscious. If the guy is awake, he’ll have a heart attack when he sees me. A wicked sense of pleasure buzzes through my muscles. I’ve waited so long for this day.
We hang back, watching the team assess the surroundings. Once I get the nod it’s safe to enter, I slip from dusk to shadows and drag off my sunglasses. The temperature instantly cools, complementing my already icy veins. Raised crates line monolithic steel-clad walls. A thin beam of failing sunshine peeks in from a crack in the old roof.
Eerie silence teams with groans. To my left a prone body. A glossy pool of blood spreads over the floor, mapping out a path to the afterlife. It’s fucking carnage.
I dip my head, silently indicating to the medic. He crouches down beside me and checks for a pulse, shaking his head to confirm what we already suspected. The dead guy with a bullet in his throat isn’t one of mine. I can tell by the shitty firearm in his lifeless hand. These guys weren’t prepared for my skilled assassins. They put up a good fight, but, in the end, we won the war.
I’m standing amidst it all, slowly stepping further inside. The soles of my boots crunch over gritty concrete. A sea of human life source sticks to the dirt underfoot, and I can’t help but question if vengeance for one life was worth all this.
This wasn’t my plan. It should have been an eye for an eye. Miguel’s life for my sisters. But this––this is a bloodbath.
In the world of drug trafficking and smuggling, it’s understood the end is only a pendulum sway away. From the second they take a first breath; the timer is set. It’s the only certainty in this godforsaken world. Day by day, they inch closer to a grave without warning.
For me, the frosty acceptance of finality breathes down my neck. It waits at the foot of my bed, reminding me that one day my family’s fate will be mine. Except, they are saints and I’m a sinner. Even in death, we’ll be separated. The good and the bad. The deserving and the unworthy.
“All clear,” a voice calls out. “The target is alive and restrained.”
“Who the hell sent you.” The rough pitch of cockiness runs a shiver down my spine. I know that tone like it's imprinted on every memory cell in my brain. Miguel.
Power spreads through me and shakes my insides. This time I'm the bad guy. I’m the man with the gun and the devil on my shoulder who’ll happily help me rip out his heart without remorse. My fists clench by my sides, waiting to unleash violence. I follow the voice and crimson boot prints marking out a path around the crates.
The pulsating ventricles in my heart work double time. I’m pumped and snarling by the time I close in on my new prisoner. His ankles and wrists are bound with biting plastic cords. His cream suit is covered in filth and new shoes dull with debris.
I’m ready to reserve my seat in hell and kill this asshole.
His eyes narrow in on my outwardly casual approach. The whites of his eyes surround his subtle shock. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he hisses with a partial laugh.
Drawing in the malice I’ve kindled for years, I feign a smile. It’s a calculated half smirk that shows him who’s in charge this time. Me. The motherfucking ghost.
“Dante fucking Valez.” He spits out a goop of scarlet saliva. “So you’re, el Fantasma. The unsolved mystery.” A bruised cheekbone has swollen and split, hiding his left eye. “The fugitive.”
I don’t show the bitterness blooming within me. He needs to understand that I’m in control now. It’s been too many years since I’ve seen him in the flesh. A virtual imprint of transactions and co-ordinates doesn’t meet the expectations of butting heads one more time.
I’ve imagined this scenario countless times and mulled over all the ways I could torture him. As much as his smug, battered face fires up the flames of hatred, I’m left feeling less than satisfied. He’s trapped and at my disposal. Whatever happens now will be controlled and expected. It’s almost an anti-climax and far removed from the rush I get with Iris.
I grimace at the distraction and sink down to face him, far enough away to stop me from strangling the bastard. The disgusting stench of his cologne injects a memory. Gabriela’s besotted smile. Miguel’s reciprocating kiss. I shake it off, my mind set on answers.
We’re close enough to hear each other’s breathing. Mine notably regulated, and his labored with fake arrogance.
“It’s been a while, Miguel.” My voice rumbles between us, low and threatening. “When was the last time I saw you? Do you remember?”
He swallows hard. I don’t miss the tremor of adrenaline in his cuffed hands. “You know the bullet had your name on it. Not Gab…”
“Don’t!” I interrupt with a harsh bark. “Don’t even breathe her name.” My palms fist and release, waiting for my brain to permit an attack.
“What the hell is all this?” His torso twists into me with bravado. “It was years ago. Why now?”
I laugh. It’s a show of authority. An alien sound in my head. “Why am I here?” I repeat his question. “Well, I’m here because you’re a greedy cunt who wanted more drugs to smuggle into Florida.”
His right eye squints. “And what, you’re working with the Columbians now?” He sneers. “Think you're a hotshot trafficker, Valez? The cartel kings will cut off your fucking balls and serve them to you on a skewer.”
Rising to full height, I leave him at my boots. “I’m just a guy getting payback, and you’re my next victim.”
My body shadows his. Realization clouds his expression, removing the slight smile from his lips. “Go on then, puta. Do it. Put a bullet in my brain.” Miguel struggles, itching to stand so he’s not below me.
I angle away from him, my vision fringed with powdered fury. “Get him to his feet.”
The desire to ram my gun into his mouth and pull the trigger simmers when I catch sight of Luiz. He eyes me from a stretcher, silently warning me to pull myself together. The quick flicker between us isn’t missed. He understands how a rash move would fuck everything up. Then he nods his head, signaling to come closer.
“You look like shit.” His leg is bandaged with a mound of white gauze. “Good job today.”
“Sir.” For some reason, his formal address annoys me. He took a bullet for my cause. That makes him more than trusted. “The serum was in my pocket, so you can guess how the syringe looks.” He winces. “I’m sure that shit of yours is in me now.” His lips quirk. “Get him to the hut and take care of it there. Put the serum in a drink instead. It will take a bit longer, but worth every minute you make him suffer. I’ll join you when I can.”
“Jackson is on standby. You’ll be walking again in no time.” His head drops, and he blows out in pain. “Whatever you need, you’ve got it. Understand?”
He nods and covers his eyes with the crook of his arm. I watch as he’s carried out of the hanger, hearing boots scuff beside me.
“Where are you taking me?” Miguel struggles to balance. “Tell me where we’re going. Are we flying to Columbia? Have you struck a deal with them?”
“Take him to the chopper.” Looking back, I narrow my gaze, bored by his questions. “You don’t have permission to speak until I say so, and then you’ll be answering my questions, not asking them.”
“Fuck you!”
“Is that right?” A hurricane brews within me. “So you’re a tough guy, huh? A rebel with zero men to back you up?”
“Did they send you here?” His once clean, sparkly teeth gnash with bloody spittle. He was a deceitful vision that my sister believed in. Lucifer dressed in chinos with a heartbeat destined to cease in my sadistic hands.
“Who?” The snap of my demand cracks like a whip. Fine hairs pricking my nape rise in hackles. Men skirting the scene crowd him, preparing to defend me. I look him straight in the eye. “Who do you think sent me, Miguel?” The sound of his name off my tongue is acid in my mouth. His lips press together, muting his voice. “Don’t worry, you’ll tell me everything eventually.” I nod to the crook in his arm. “One needle in that blue vein, and you’ll instantly spill all the secrets locked away in here.” My finger prods his temple. “I never understood what my sister saw in you.”
His mouth stretches to a sinister grin. “Gabriela begged me to give it to her. And that I did. Over and fucking over––”
It starts with tingles rocketing up my arm. Then a gush of hissing blood magnifies the violence seething within me. I seize his throat with a viselike grip. Ruthless leather-bound fingers to the palpitations thumping in his neck. My head tilts sideways, eyeing his pathetic gasps for air.
I could say I enjoy the power of having this man's life in my hands. But I don’t, it’s beyond simple enjoyment. I fucking bask in it. I’ve waited too long. Bided my time. And now the moment to ruin him has finally arrived. He’ll surrender to el Fantasma. Bow and beg for mercy.
With my forbidden love out of the equation, I’m untouchable. My heart is vacuum packed and sealed. Whatever actions I deem necessary are no longer a toss of what’s right and what’s wrong. My dice lands on death. Every single time. I have nothing left in this world to lose.
“You’re a dead man, Valez.” He gasps for oxygen.
Jets of air shoot from my nostrils. I raise my arm so his boots dangle. I don’t remember him so feather light and unworthy, then again, I’m so wired I could bench press his weight without breaking a sweat.
“Let me tell you a secret. Just between you and I. It’s your time to die.” Releasing my fingers, his bones rattle as he drops. He shakes his head and snorts out a grunt of ridicule.
“You’re all talk, Valez.”
The audacity of his bluster spears my fraying composure. Self-control snaps into smithereens. I unleash a whirl of wrath in one punch. It connects with his face. A pathetic grunt echoes in the vast backdrop of emptiness. His head cracks on the concrete as he falls.
He lies in a heap. Semi-unconscious. Spineless. Worthless.
“Load him up.”
Voices drift in and out of my mind, Miguel’s undignified mutters and my men taking none of his pathetic shit. They manhandle him out of the building while I take a moment alone to work out the tension burning my muscles.
Even with a high roof, the space becomes airless. I clutch my chest and reel in the need for destruction.
Dragging a hand over my scruff, I look around, hatred spitting fire and turning volcanic at the sight of scattered corpses. My guys and his. The lives of fathers, sons and friends all ended. An intense swell of sickness rebels inside me. The steely composure smelts into toxic misery.
This is my life now.
Blood for blood.
I inhale the demonic need for justice burrowing in my soul. The starless cloud swirls around the woman I’ve left behind, bringing her face back into my thoughts. She’s free from me. Safe from destruction.
“Sir. Good news. The bullet missed Luiz’s femoral artery. After Jackson removes the bullet, he’ll be on his feet in no time.”
I stretch my neck and feel the tight muscles burn. “And the other guy?”
“It’s not looking good.”
“Take me to him.” I glance down at his latex gloves stained in gore.
“I doubt he’ll survive the journey back.”
I blink through the bodies as we weave around wooden chests stacked like building blocks. The smell of death is thick in the air. On the soiled concrete lies a man the same age as me. Recruited last year when I ramped up the team with ex-military. They knew the risks. All of them willing to serve me once society rejected their contained violence. War ruined them. Death chased them.
Every man on my payroll understands the importance of tactics and the upshot of gunfire. They gladly wear camo to blend into a natural world of protection and sleep with a weapon tucked to their side.
I drop to my knees, sliding in a halo of blood blooming from his body. Tanned cheeks have withered to grey, barely visible under bloody smears. Pearly teeth are washed in red as his life source bubbles from his throat. Eyelashes flit in a battle of survival. “Come on, Juan. Today is not your day to die,” I urge, gripping his chin. “Come on, soldier. Jackson is waiting for you. Let’s go.”
He coughs and chokes, spitting bright blood.
“There’s no hope for him. A bullet punctured his heart, and another sliced his neck. We can’t do anything for him.”
The guy can’t even die in peace without suffering. I grab my gun from its holster, press the barrel to his forehead and snap the trigger.
“We can give him a soldier’s death,” I reply, watching the brutal agony of his fight cease. A whispered puff of air empties his lungs. Finality snarls within me with a certain madness.
It’s my fault these men died.
I put everyone in danger.
Rising tall, I leave humanity in the sands of time. “Burn the building to its foundation.”
