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“Yeah, let’s go get Connor back,” I declared.
Liam nodded, his experienced gaze unwavering as he pulled away from the curb. “We’ll need to be strategic. The cartel won’t make this easy.”
My fingers drummed nervously on my leg. “We have to catch them off guard. They won’t expect us to retaliate so soon, so we need to act fast.”
Liam’s lips tightened in agreement as he drove. The sun started making its downward trek in the sky as I gazed out of the window, watching the city’s landscape gradually transform from day to night. I watched streetlights come on as Liam pulled into a dimly lit alley in the North End and turned off the car. For a moment, we just sat and observed our surroundings, vigilant and cautious.
The darkness and the alley’s narrow confines provided some degree of cover, shielding our car from prying eyes. A man emerged from one of the nearby back doors, a bag of garbage clenched in his fist. Oblivious to our presence, he nonchalantly disposed of the bag into a nearby trash bin before retreating back inside. After a few more moments of silence, we finally climbed out of the car.
Liam strode with purpose to the trunk and deftly unlocked the gun safe, revealing a small portion of the Murphy’s armory. There were sleek, semi-automatic pistols, their cold steel gleaming in the soft light, and larger, more formidable firearms like tactical shotguns and compact submachine guns stored inside the trunk.
I selected one of the semi-automatic pistols, my fingers gripping the weapon’s handle like it had been made for me. I holstered it securely on my belt. I grabbed a switchblade and shoved it inmy pocket. I didn’t know exactly what I was walking into, and stealth could very well be the key to getting my brother back.
I looked up to see the sun setting and knew it was time to move.
Knowing that we needed to stay hidden, Liam and I kept to the shadows, moving with the kind of silent synchronization that only years of experience could foster. This wasn’t the first war we’d fought in, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the last.
As it was, I was grateful to have him at my side. He was a really good shot, and he’d saved my ass a number of times in the past.
As we moved closer to the abandoned factory, I paused for a moment and took in the eerie sight. The building had long fallen into disuse, and if I didn’t know any better, I would have thought it had been abandoned long ago.
The windows were broken, and the exterior had been weathered and rusted over time. Parts of the walls were crumbling as we moved around to the back, taking our time with each and every step. There wasn’t a single guard posted on the perimeter, which made our movements around the building simple.
Once we rounded the back of the factory, we slipped into the building through an open door with a broken lock. The rusty hinges creaked loudly, but thankfully, no one came running.
Honestly, I started to question whether my intel was right at this point. Where was the cartel? Why would they be so foolish as to leave this place unguarded?
Inside, darkness clung to the walls, and the scent of decay hung heavy in the air. Our progress was slow and methodical, our shadows shifting along the corridors as we silently made our way through.
As we moved deeper into the factory, Liam made quick, silent commands with his hands. Signals that told me when to halt, when to proceed, and when danger was near.
We moved in concert like a well-practiced team.
As we slunk through the main room of the factory, the vast expanse of machinery loomed like dormant giants. Shadows clung to the metal frames and gears, emphasizing the sheer magnitude of the abandoned looms. Each colossal machine, with its rusted frame and frayed conveyor belts, appeared frozen in time, as if the very act of weaving had stopped in the middle of the day and never started again.
Massive spools of thread dangled like forgotten memories, cobwebs weaving between them in delicate, time-worn patterns. The air was thick with the smell of dust, oil, smoke, and the rancid scent of human piss.
Then we turned the corner and ran into our first guard, his presence nearly imperceptible until we were inches away. A bead of sweat trickled down my temple.
Knowing I still had the element of surprise, I moved like a phantom, my gloved hand clamping over the guard’s mouth to stifle any outcry. I broke his neck with a ruthless twist, the echoing crack loud to my own ears. Carefully, I lowered his body to the ground, hiding it in the shadows just in case anyone happened to walk by after us.
When we finally made it to the offices on the other side of the building, a heavy locked door stood in our way. Liam reached into his pocket and passed me a set of lock picking tools. I worked swiftly, using the pick to force the tumblers to click in surrender. When the door finally swung open, I had to swallowmy cry of victory, and a glimmer of sadness shot through me at the fact that my twin wasn’t there to celebrate with me. I glanced back at Liam and indicated that it was time for us to move forward.
Beyond the door was a metal staircase that led downward into the darkness of the factory’s basement. Based off of the blueprints, that was the most likely area where they’d keep Connor. It was also where the original factory owners had built their vault.
We descended the steps, our footsteps muted against the cold, stone floor. The basement held a different atmosphere, colder and more foreboding than the upper levels. The air was heavy with the scent of dampness and decay. Shadows danced along the walls, casting eerie silhouettes of forgotten crates and discarded tools. I paid none of it any mind. I was just looking for bodies at this point.
Still, it was mysteriously quiet. I kept my breathing shallow and my senses on high alert, the hair on the back of my neck rising in alarm.
Something wasn’t right.
Our footsteps echoed through the hallway as we ventured deeper into the basement. As we rounded a corner, I stopped short. In the center of a room, a central beam of light from a small window cast a spotlight upon Connor. He was tied up with ropes sitting on the ground, but he was still conscious. His eyes locked with mine and he shook his head.
Relief washed over me at the sight of him, but it was short-lived.
Before we could react, the room seemed to explode in chaos. Cartel members emerged from the shadows, their facesconcealed beneath masks as they swiftly surrounded the two of us. There were at least two dozen guns leveled in our direction.
We’d walked straight into a trap.
