The night was thick. Moonless. Heavy.
Silent in the way that warned of death.
Rafael's convoy cut through the darkness like a blade,three SUVs, lights off, engines low, every man inside ready to kill at a moment's notice. Caleb rode in the passenger seat beside him, checking his gun for the fifth time.
"You're sure this is the place?" Caleb murmured.
Rafael's fingers tapped slowly against the door. "He's arrogant. He won't hide his prize far."
The road narrowed into a dirt path, the trees thickening around them. Far ahead, a dull orange glow flickered, the lights of Cassimo's hideout.
A solitary house.
Biig, not fancy.
Just isolated enough to drown the sound of screams.
The SUV rolled to a halt.
"Positions," Rafael ordered.
Eight men spilled out silently, like shadows spreading across the property. In under a minute, they had surrounded the house, cutting off every point of escape.
Inside, Cassimo poured himself a drink at his desk.
He swirled the liquor, humming faintly, flipping through a ledger as if the world outside wasn't closing in. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his jaw.
Then...
The lights flickered off for a few seconds and came back on..
He frowned and cussed. "The fuck?"
Before he could move, a cold barrel pressed against the back of his skull.
Cassimo froze.
Slowly, stiffly, he lifted his hands.
"Don't be stupid," he muttered. "Whoever you are....."
A low voice cut through the dark like a blade against bone.
"Turn around."
Cassimo swallowed hard.
He turned.
And his breath caught.
"El Diablo," he whispered.
Rafael stood inches away, all in black, eyes burning with something far more dangerous than rage and purpose.
Cassimo forced a smirk. "How the hell did you get here?"
Rafael raised an eyebrow. "That's not important."
He stepped closer, lowering the gun so it pointed straight at Cassimo's chest.
"Where's the woman?"
Cassimo's jaw clenched. "You mean Ortega's little wife?"
"She's not yours to torture." Rafael's voice dropped lower. "Stand up."
Cassimo didn't move.
A shot exploded past his ear, embedding into the wooden desk. Cassimo flinched violently.
"Stand," Rafael repeated.
Cassimo rose slowly.
He took one subtle step backward and tried to press the hidden panic button beneath his drawer.
Click.
Nothing.
Rafael leaned in, his voice a whisper of mockery.
"Don't bother. Your men are already taken care of."
Cassimo's lip curled into a snarl. "Incompetent bastards…"
A rough shove from one of Rafael's men forced him forward and out the door.
As Rafael's men pushed him down the hallway, Cassimo saw his own guards lined up against the wall, hands tied behind their heads, Rafael's men surrounding them with rifles aimed at their skulls.
He spat on the floor. "Cowards."
One guard whispered shaekily, "Jefe, lo siento....."
"Shut up," Cassimo snapped.
Rafael wasn't amused.
"Where is she?" he demanded again.
Cassimo scowled but led the way.
They stopped before a steel-reinforced door, cold and dented as if someone had tried desperately to break out.
Cassimo unlocked it. The smell hit first.
Then the shape on the floor.
Luciana lay curled in on herself, limbs bound, hair tangled, her skin ghost-pale under the dim bulb. She didn't move. Not even when the door groaned open.
Rafael's jaw tightened.
"Fuck," Caleb muttered behind him.
Rafael didn't hesitate. He turned to one of his men. "Get her."
The man entered quickly, kneeling beside her and checking her pulse.
"She's alive, boss. Barely conscious."
"Carry her."
As Luciana was lifted gently into the man's arms, her head slumped against his shoulder, a faint whimper leaving her cracked lips.
Rafael's gaze shifted back to Cassimo, hard and lethal.
"You should pray she doesn't die," he said quietly. "Because if she does, I'll make sure you follow her the same night."
Cassimo glared at him, panting with rage.
"You came into my home," he hissed.
"You think you can just walk out?"
Rafael stepped close...closer than was sane and lowered his voice to a whisper.
"I could kill you right now if I wanted to. But your games entertain me."
He smirked faintly.
"Keep playing, Cassimo. I don't mind ending you when I'm bored."
He turned to leave.
His men began backing out, rifles still trained on Cassimo and his captured guards.
Cassimo's teeth ground together. "This isn't over, Navarro!"
Rafael didn't look back.
"I know."
....
As the convoy doors slammed shut and engines roared to life, Cassimo exploded.
"¡Mátenlos!" he screamed.
Gunfire erupted from the shadows outside the house.
Cassimo's remaining men fired at the SUVs, bullets sparking off metal, shattering windows.
Rafael's convoy peeled out at high speed, tires spitting dirt, engines screaming. Men leaned out the windows and shot back, rapid bursts lighting up the trees.
Two of Cassimo's men went down instantly.
The rest dove behind rocks and cars, returning fire.
One bullet grazed the back of the SUV carrying Luciana, but the driver swerved hard, losing the shooters in the curve of the forest road.
Rafael rolled down his window, leaned out, and fired twice.....accurate, deadly.
Two gunmen collapsed.
The third stumbled backward but kept shooting until Rafael's bullet found his chest.
"Keep driving!" Rafael barked as the final shots whizzed past them.
Within minutes, they were gone.
Vanished into the night with Luciana clutched tightly in one of Rafael's men's arms.
Cassimo stood outside his hideout, chest heaving, watching the taillights disappear.
"Navarro…" he hissed. "I'll kill you myself."