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One of them brings out a gun and aims. It doesn’t touch our guy because he was already ducking out of the way, which is the plan. This lag allows 2 of the thieves to run, leaving one. He emerges from behind the dumpster and is about to run as well when I push him to the ground. Right on cue, a shot hits the place the guy had been standing.
We both groan before getting back to our feet. Then we run out of the alleyway and take cover behind a building.
“Mierda,” he says breathing heavily.
My brain works to understand what he said. Then I realize he said shit, in Spanish. Oh thank God, it’s a language I know.
“Estas bien?” I ask if he’s okay in Spanish. My accent is a little rusty but at least I can communicate.
His eyes widen as he realizes I understand him. Then he mutters something under his breath.
“Gracias por salvarme,” he says, which translates to thanks for saving me.
“De nada.”
You’re welcome.
I step out from behind the building and glance uneasily down the street. Then I turn back to him. He’s still regarding me with curious, guarded eyes. But I did just save the guy’s life. He can’t very well just leave me. Human decency. I almost chuckle. I can’t believe this plan hangs on the belief that these robbers will have human decency.
Then he nods his head at me.
“Sigueme,” the robber says, gesturing with his fingers at a dark van parked a couple of miles from where we stand.
Their getaway car. He’s asking me to follow him.
We stealthily walk to the car and once we reach it, the door is opened for us to step inside.
“Espere!” one of them shouts from inside the van. Wait.
“Quien habla, Marco?” another one of them asks. Who is this? At least I know the name of the bastard I saved.
“El me salvo la vida,” Marco says. He saved my life.
“What are we supposed to do with him?” the first guy asks switching to English. It’s a little disconcerting that I can’t see their faces.
Right on cue, there’s another gunshot. It spurs the men into action. Marco curses under his breath, before pulling me into a state-of-the-art van that has more gadgets than Arcadian could imagine. Alan would be shocked if he saw this. I count six of them, plus the getaway driver who is also wearing a mask.
“Vamos!” Marco yells at the driver. Go.
Then he turns to the first guy who seems to be the leader.
“I couldn’t let him die,” Marco says to him. The leader pauses, seemingly deep in thought.
“It was brave of you to save our brother. We won’t kill you, we’ll take you back to headquarters,” he decides.
I inwardly sigh in relief.
“But you can’t be allowed to know where we’re going,” he says after a beat.
Then he turns to the guy who is beside me. He’s even bigger than me with tan skin and menacing muscles.
“Leo, derribalo,” the leader says.
He’s asking the big guy to knock me out. I only have time to raise my hand in protest before Leo takes three fingers to my neck and puts enough pressure to knock me unconscious.
My last thought is, mission accomplished.
