"Ahhh! Ahhh—!"
A piercing scream echoed through the room as Sam withdrew the knife—he had just severed one of Mario's fingers.
"Tell us where your father is hiding, and we'll make it quick. You know you're not going to live, but I can at least make it less painful for you..." Sam said calmly while wiping the blood from the blade, staring Mario in the eyes.
Mario trembled. He was clearly terrified, but what came out of his mouth was unexpected: "Never…"
A demonic smile spread across Sam's face—and another scream followed. Mario's other finger was sliced off. The pain nearly made him faint.
This time, it was Sam and Bryan handling the interrogation. Owen and his team were outside—he'd already witnessed enough of the CIA's methods through Bryan. Frankly, they were inhumane. The kind of stuff that gives you nightmares.
"You'll never… never hurt… my father…"
Mario's screams never stopped, but he remained surprisingly stubborn. Sam had used several techniques; Mario was already unrecognizable from the torture, yet he wouldn't break.
After a while, the door opened. Sam came out, wiping sweat from his face with a handkerchief.
"This guy's different," he said. "His worship of his father has reached a pathological level—almost like religious devotion. His body may have submitted, but his spirit is still forcing him to protect his father."
Everyone exchanged puzzled glances. Owen had never encountered anything like it.
"So, what do we do?" someone asked.
"We have to find his weakness—something he cares about even more."
Something more important?
"His wife and daughter…" Ghost said coldly. Before they had left, Becky had gathered intelligence suggesting that Mario deeply loved his family and had gone on murderous rampages before over threats to them.
"Find out where they are."
Owen glanced at Ela, who immediately started making calls. If it had been the old her, she would've been strongly against using women and children as leverage—but reality had already taught her enough hard lessons. That naive idealism was long gone.
Ela did everything she could through her contacts to dig up info on Mario's family. But this wasn't the U.S.—and they were acting privately. Without official backing, many intelligence channels were now unavailable.
Outside, chaos had completely taken over. Guzmán's death had hit like water in hot oil—Lofta and the Sánchez Group were now going all-out, using any means necessary to destroy each other.
Gunfire rang out everywhere. Whenever the two factions encountered each other, a fight would break out immediately. The local police were at a loss. Citizens were constantly calling in reports, but there was nothing law enforcement could do. Either cartel could wipe them out. Without deploying the Marines or Army, they didn't even have a chance to intervene.
However, amid the chaos, information flowed more freely. Word traveled fast—anything that happened was usually known by the relevant players within half an hour.
"I found them," Ela finally reported. "Mario didn't keep his wife and daughter in the city. He put them in a villa on the outskirts. Despite being a brutal drug lord, he wanted his daughter to live a normal life. He never allowed drugs near her."
"Then let's go. Let's hope Mario really does love his family as much as he pretends to. That way, we won't have to hurt them…"
"No. Don't take a car. You'll never make it ten kilometers without getting stopped. Let Howler take you," Bryan cut in before Owen could respond. He was right—there was a war going on out there. If they tried to drive, they'd likely get mistaken for either Lofta or Sánchez men and be caught in a firefight before they ever got close.
The steady thump of helicopter rotors filled the air. Team Omega boarded two Little Birds and took to the skies. Clearly, Sam had some pull in the area—he had even secured helicopters.
Howler and Heartbeat piloted the two Little Birds, flying low to avoid city airspace. The team sat on the side rails, keeping a sharp eye on the ground—no one could say when some lunatic might open fire or launch an RPG at them.
From high above, they could see far. Owen already spotted multiple skirmishes below. So far, no one had seen the helicopters as a threat, which was good. But halfway through the flight, Owen's earpiece buzzed with Becky's voice:
"Owen, we've got a problem…"
"What is it?"
"I just intercepted a Lofta communication through the NSA's channels. Seems like they're targeting the same objective. Someone's already en route—and they're probably ahead of you."
"Can you track the target?"
"Yes. Mario's wife and daughter are in the garden playing right now."
"Keep eyes on them."
Ending the call, Owen signaled with a hand gesture. "Speed up—we've got company."
Hearing this over the comms, Howler pushed the throttle. The helicopters surged forward faster.
The wind whipped across Owen's face, but he remained calm. At their current speed, they were four minutes out. Then Becky's voice crackled again:
"Lofta's men just arrived… the wife and daughter hid… wait… they've been found…"
On her screen, Becky used satellite feeds to watch from above. A group of armed men surrounded two figures. One of them appeared to strike the women—both collapsed to the ground.
Owen could only listen helplessly through his earpiece.
"They've taken them. Sending coordinates now…"
Owen sighed with relief. At least they weren't killed. As long as they were alive, there was still leverage. He relayed the new coordinates to the pilots. The Little Birds banked hard, redirecting toward the updated location.
"Visual on targets—engagement in ten seconds…" Howler's voice crackled through the comms.
They didn't need the announcement—everyone on the rails had already spotted the two vehicles below.
One was a Jeep, the other a pickup truck. The bed of the pickup was loaded with armed men—about eleven or twelve in total.
The thump of rotor blades grew louder. The Lofta men inside had definitely noticed the helicopters now. As they slowed and approached, it was obvious to anyone with a brain that these choppers were here for them.
"Don't move," one of the Lofta men snapped at Mario's wife and daughter, who sat tense and silent.
In front of them, Owen's helicopter hovered and blocked the road. There was no way to drive past. Above, Howler's chopper held its position—Bayev had his M249 already mounted and ready to open fire.
______
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