--That morning, Friday, the Kidnapped Story, 18 hours before the accident--
Maxwell woke up with a horrific pain in his head. He was laying down on concrete, and when he tried to get up, he found it difficult. Both his hands and feet were tied together, and there was a gag shoved into his mouth, covered by plastic wrap. It made him feel like a pathetic caterpillar. Even when he tried to pull his head off the hard ground, it was hard. In a different way, though. Enough pulling made him realize why. His head was stuck to the ground by some kind of itchy goop.
Recollections of the night prior started to flood into his mind as his awareness spread.
Ariaxs.
The ritual that killed all of his friends.
Eating one of the cultists who followed him without hesitation.
The huge mustached gangster who busted through the door and threatened to kill him.
Two of his followers, covered in blood, abandoning him as they ran for their lives as they were being shot.
Falling and blacking out.
Ariaxs.
Hah. Perhaps this was some kind of dream? A nightmare, after he blacked out from drinking too much. That was probably it.
…
No, there was no fooling himself. Max was too smart for that. Sitting across the room was another mustached man, though this one was wearing sunglasses and a hat that obscured his face. When the man noticed Max was awake, he hopped up and left the room by a metal door.
The rest of the room was some kind of concrete, with basic plain ceiling tiles. While he had no idea where he was, Max guessed that it must have been an office building or something. Of course, that didn’t make much sense.
Returning into the room was the guard, along with the massive gangster who initially attacked Max. It was too difficult to struggle, so he just kept still.
The man splashed a bucket of water on Max’s face.
“Kid, you awake?” He asked, though it should be obvious Max was and couldn’t answer. “If you are, wiggle your body. Just making sure that you didn’t go retarded or get brain damage yesterday from when I knocked you out.”
‘Knocked me out’.
Yeah right. Max remembered falling, and he was well aware that this guy had slipped. Max getting hurt was totally unintentional. But he wiggled his body around anyway, since he wasn’t sure what would happen if he didn’t. They wanted him for some reason, though he couldn’t figure out why. They had asked who he was...was it about his family? A terrorist attack?
“Good, seems like you’re not retarded,” the man said. He grabbed a chair and sat in it. To his ally, he said: “Yo! Go grab the kid and put him on a chair. We gotta get a good photo. And I want to make sure this little shit knows what’s going on.”
“Aye, boss.”
The other man in the room walked behind Max and grabbed his body, trying to pull him up. But Max’s head was still stuck to the ground, and as he was pulled, his face started to hurt. There was a horrific squelching sound as his head slowly separated from the floor, and suddenly, the dull pain in his head became far worse than before. Max screamed into his gag as he was forced into a large comfort chair.
The gangster in front of him held up a mirror as he started to talk.
“Your head hurt? Well, don’t worry about it. You’ll live. I just cut your ear off.”
That was what Max saw in the mirror. Half of the side of his face and head was red and black with sticky blood that scabbed over, and his hair was plastered in different directions. But it was quite clear that he was missing an ear. The flesh had been sawed off and all that remained was a discolored hole.
“Other than that, if we don’t need to hurt you, then we won’t.”
A third man had walked into the room. He had the same mustache the rest of the men had, but what set him apart was the air of superiority and the strange zig-zagging scar across his face. Max had met people like this before; ones who knew they were important and acted like it. The way this man held himself was like one of power.
“You may be confused as to what you’re doing here,” the scarred man said. “Well, don’t be too worried. Most likely, you will make it out of this alive. If you haven’t guessed, we’re holding you and your sister captive, and so long as everything goes well, this nightmare of yours will end sooner than it began. So long as your family pays for your life, everyone will be happy. Now, smile and say cheese.”
***
After taking his picture, the men all left the room. It was empty and dark; the men were using a lantern for illumination rather than electric lights, so there was no reason for them to keep it inside. There must have been holes in the roof, however, as light began finding its way into the room to grant Max sight as time moved forward.
This situation was pretty bad. Would his father really pay a ransom?
The answer was probably yes. It was the ‘probably’ part that worried Max. How much were these men going to ask for? Were they telling the truth? Could they be trying to get money from his father, but then kill Max afterwards?
I mean, they showed their faces…
Was that what a kidnapper would do if they were just going to let me go? Especially with such obvious facial features…
Max could very clearly picture the scarred man’s face. Even just saying the combination of a scar and a mustache would be enough to identify him. The more he thought about it, the more Max could only imagine his death at their hands.
Fuck that!
How horribly cruel would it be to have just bound your soul to hell for eternal torment only to die the very next day?
Max wasn’t going to let that happen. He recalled what Oriaxs had said.
‘You can do whatever you want with anyone’s body.’
Was this true?
If it were, then Max wasn’t as helpless as he thought. Of course, there was no proof. Why would a cruel devil tell the truth? Even though he should be full of doubt, there was also a notion that it was true. Max had done research into daemons through the esoteric books his cult members had gathered, and what Oriaxs gave them was not something unlike what the texts said. Dominion over flesh, blood, and bone. While the Church kept all info about devils and pacts hidden from the common public, rumors spread about the kinds of blessings that could be granted through selling your soul
I need living flesh digesting inside me, Max thought. But how much?
Well, there was an easy way to test it out.
After moving the gag enough to chew properly, Max bit into the inside of his mouth and despite the agonizing pain, swallowed the chunks of flesh from his own body.
***
--In another room, earlier--
A bucket of water splashed on Luise’s face and woke her up. It was freezing cold and immediately she tried to reactively strike out, however, her hands and feet were bound. Instead of getting anything done, all she accomplished was shouting into a gag and bouncing around on a chair. Hands appeared from somewhere she couldn’t see to restrain her, and as it became obvious she couldn’t do anything, she stopped moving. The fire in her heart had not died, but no matter what was going on, pretending to be calm was the best thing to do.
Her vision started focusing.
Sitting in front of her was a mustached man with a strange question mark-like scar across his face, staring at her with disdain.
“Good morning Maxine,” the man said. “I’m glad to see you slept well. I’m going to tell you the same thing I told your brother. You don’t need to worry about us hurting or killing you; if everything goes well, you’ll be able to get out of here completely unscathed. Of course, that depends on your parents. As you might be able to guess, we are currently holding you hostage, and are asking for a healthy sum to let you and your brother leave. So please, don’t kill yourself. Oh, and I do apologize for this.”
After finishing, the man pulled out a small mirror to show Luise a reflection of herself.
Her hair had been cut incredibly short. The way it fell was now barely to her chin, a pixie bob-cut that children or edgy radicals would wear. Most women would be horrified to have their hair sliced away like that; it was their pride.
But Luise literally could not care at all. The only reason she never got her hair cut in the first place was because she didn’t trust beauticians. She blinked and furrowed her eyebrows.
Wait a minute.
After thinking for a second, Luise realized that these kidnappers had mistaken her for Maxine. Did they cut her hair because Maxine loved her own more than anything else? Actually, if she wasn’t currently being held in captivity, this type of situation was kind of hilarious. These dudes were total fuck ups and Luise immediately lost respect for them as criminals. She smiled underneath the gag and almost started laughing.
***
To Nick, it looked like Maxine was about to start crying, which gave him satisfaction. He set the mirror down and pulled out the camera he had brought with him.
“Now, we’ll leave you alone for a bit, but first, say cheese.”
After taking her picture, the men left the room. It was the overseer’s booth at the top of the abandoned warehouse they were currently staying in. The photo finished developing as he got down the stairs and tossed it into the table where everything was set up at. Bruno and Dominic were eating breakfast in silence, while a few other members of the gang were watching television.
The pieces were all collected, and it was time to let them fall.
After collecting everything needed to send the first ransom letter, Nick stood before his men to give instructions.
“Listen here you dumbfucks,” he started. That was the usual greeting all his men liked to hear. “This is serious. Amateur hour is over, and once we finish this job, we’ll be the fucking kings of these streets. Nobody will be able to mess with us, and we’ll have the respect of those lowlives. We will become a force stronger than the Cosa Nostra, and this is where we’ll do it!
“Which means everyone needs to be at full fucking attention. Everyone needs to be awake, because even a single fuck up could ruin all of this. Right now, we need to be at 100%! Now, right here I have the ransom note. Rico, you know where the Vasquez mansion is, correct? Then you’re the one who’ll bring it there. Get on that right now, do it before anyone wakes up and make sure you’re not seen. After that, watch the house. Make sure they see it, then make sure the police don’t get called. If anything suspicious happens, you let me know as soon as possible.”
“Got it, boss,” Rico said, grabbing the envelope. Once Nick gave him the go-ahead, Rico left.
“For the rest of you,” Nick continued. “We need this place completely secured. Mick, you go guard the brother, and Lyle, you go guard the sister. But make sure you don’t hurt them or scare them. We don’t want them accidentally dying, but we still want them scared. Your shift will be replaced at lunch. For the rest of you, guard the building. Keep on making sure that nobody even comes close. Got it?”
***
After the men dispersed, Dominic took a seat next to his older brother. For some reason, this entire thing seemed ominous, and Dominic just couldn’t shake the feeling it was going to crumble down all around them eventually. He did not reveal these worries, obviously.
But he did have some questions.
“Yo, big bro, why did you show those kids your face? Won’t they be able to identify you later on?”
“Ha! You don’t know why?”
Dominic shook his head. Unlike Nick, he wasn’t very smart, and unlike Bruno, he wasn’t very strong. But if he could ask stupid questions that helped his brothers out, then he could at least be slightly useful.
“Come on, take a guess. Just anything, shoot at random.”
Dominic felt embarrassed, but he did as he was asked.
“Are you going to kill them?”
“Huh?” That actually caught Nick off guard for a second. He quickly regained his composure. “No, idiot. Of course not. Well, that is to say, if we get the money, I won’t be killing either of them. If the money comes through, then we need to uphold our end of the transaction. A group of criminals need to have codes and morals if they want to become something to hold with pride. And that’s exactly what we are going to become; for that reason, I must show my face boldly to those kids.”
“But why? Won’t they remember you?”
“Of course they will,” Nick said, rubbing at his scar. “There’s no way they could forget this look. Likely when they return home, the police will ask what happened, or their father will try to go to a hunter of some kind. And what will they say? ‘He was a man with a large mustache and long scar.’ My face will be on wanted posters, and as word circulates, my visage will become known. And if I’m ever taken to court, there won’t be any proof other than the kid’s testimonies. That’s not enough, and with a senator so unwilling to display a backbone on crime, won’t be friends with the prosecutors. There’s no way I get a conviction.
“And during the entire time, we reap the renown. It grows and grows as the underbelly of this city learns our name, and the more Vasquez tries to push for our heads, the larger we grow. And on the other hand, if they just decide to let it lie, then isn’t that even better? The Gordoli Family was strong enough to kidnap a senator’s family and extort money from them without even being punished? There is no possible solution where this goes poorly for us, you see.”
“I see,” Dominic said, though it was a lie. He really didn’t understand.
***
There weren't any good natural vantage points of the Vasquez mansion that were legally accessible, so Rico had to get creative. Days ago, he planned a perfect sniping position, then mapped out how to get there. After dropping off the package, he took to the nearest building and clambered up the side of it. There wasn’t any rooftop access and people obviously weren’t supposed to be on top of it, but that didn’t bother him.
He carried with him a long guitar case, and a brown paper bag with his lunch in it. The sun hadn’t even risen by the time he was in location, so he opened the guitar case and rifled through it until he found his alarm clock. He set it to go off in an hour, then fell asleep.
An hour later, it rang.
The birds on top of the roof around him scattered as he hit the off switch. The sound of city bustle was loud enough to muffle the ringing, but there wasn’t any point in throwing caution to the wind. Unlike the rest of the Gordoli Family, Rico had served time as a soldier. Because of that, his mind was acutely aware of his surroundings, and his skills were pushed to their extremes. This was a job to him, but it was a job he could do without any difficulty.
In under a minute he had his sniper rifle connected and through the scope could survey the entire front of the house.
Eventually, a tall and thin old man came out and found the package. Then he returned inside. Rico checked the staff list they had stolen; this was most likely Benjamin Brown, the head butler of the estate. Nick expected this to be the man who found the ransom note first, which was what they expected.
Some time later, the remainder of staff began to go about their business. Nothing too important to note.
***
When Luise was finally confident enough time had gone by without someone checking on her, she decided to escape. It was actually pretty fortunate that she was captured rather than Maxine, since her mistress would probably have panicked and had a stroke. Instead, Luise was a child of the streets and knew her way around being held captive.
In a single motion, Luise dislocated her thumb. With her hand now far thinner than it had been before, she slipped it out of the rope without much of a struggle. Then, she popped it back in and untied the rest of the ropes. She took off the gag and took in a big breath of fresh air. Ah. That was pleasant.
Staying on her tiptoes, Luise walked to the door and pressed her ear against it.
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As she suspected, there was someone on the other side, watching tv. He’d come in once before, checking on her, but that had been at least an hour ago. She could hear the sounds of a rugby match being played, and it sounded quite intense. That meant there was at least some time before he would check on her.
The room was quite sparse. The floor was carpet and the walls were plastered, but much of it was scraped away to reveal concrete foundations underneath. There was also a single window to the left wall of the door, but it was completely covered up and Luise didn’t want to uncover it in case anyone saw. Realistically, the only way out of the room other than the door would be through the ceiling. It was a panelled design, and in the very corner was an air vent. She stood on her chair and pushed one of the panels up, pleased to see about a meter long empty space covered entirely in dust. She pulled the panel closed.
Okay, she thought. How do I do this?
It would probably be easy to get out of the current room she was trapped in. But what about after that? Where was this room? What kind of building were they in?
She had absolutely no idea, and acting too impulsively would spell death. At the moment, they thought she was Maxine Vasques. If that changed, there was nothing to stop them from just killing her. Since Luise knew Maxine was probably trying to live as a common person at the moment, Lenore would probably pay the ransom, thinking it was his daughter who was being held. So, she needed to be able to escape, but couldn’t get caught doing it.
A brief plan formed in her mind and Luise put it into action.
First, she undressed down to the barest of clothes. Not only would it be hard to move in a big poofy and unwieldy dress, if it got dirty, then the gangsters might get suspicious. Then, she quietly marked the spot where her chair was before picking it up and moving it to beneath the vent. Luise hopped onto the chair then removed the panel directly next to the air vent, and finally climbed up into the space between.
The crawlspace was as she expected: dark and dusty.
But it stretched out only as far as the roof did. From beyond, she saw it drop off, then even further out were dark metal walls of a larger building. A warehouse?
Luise crawled along the roof of her small room and came to the edge.
Yes, it was as she thought.
The entire building was some old mechanics factory, with a conveyor belt and cubicles constructed afterward. In the center of the room, Luise saw a group of men sitting, including the scarred man who spoke with her earlier. She also saw a few guns sitting on the table. They were well armed.
One last thing stood out to her.
Across the empty building, on the other side ground floor was a concrete storage closet, and sitting at the entrance was a thug reading a book. Earlier, the scarred man told her that she was being held hostage with her ‘brother’, which Luise could only assume meant Maxwell. He was a creepy dude, and Luise never liked him very much.
But if she was missing, and the kidnappers got angry, would they take it out on him?
Ahhhhhhh…
Did she really care? She wanted to grumble, but any noise could mean instant death. Was the kid really worth saving?
Well, if she did rescue him, perhaps she could get some money from the family? Save them the trouble of paying the ransom off, so she could get a reward? It would be pretty difficult though; while Luise was acrobatic and stealthy enough from her years as a burglar, she’d never actually killed anybody. If these gangsters stayed here, she couldn’t picture a way of getting Max out without alerting anyone. Unless he was a gymnast or something.
Ok, that idea was probably a bust. Could she escape and call the police?
It was a possible idea, but there were some issues. That didn’t necessarily make it any safer for Max.
Damn it. This was hard.
There was probably no way of getting him out. The best Luise could do is escape herself. Metal bars connected the top of the roof she was on to the warehouse ceiling, and she scanned across them. Following along the ventilation shaft were lines of windows, and at the end of each looked like a panel for opening and closing them.
Making sure not to be seen, she walked along the metal beams and jumped across to the windowsill made of bricks. She pressed her face to the window to look outside.
It was still early morning, as determined by the brightness of the sky. Identical buildings could be seen in the distance, and it looked like this entire area was an abandoned manufacturing zone. Years ago, right before the economy crashed, Paris had a booming business for factory workers. Not the best, but good enough to employ thousands. Now it was a desolate wasteland.
Fuck. If they had people outside watching, escape during the day would be almost impossible. Even if she did try to run, they’d be able to catch up with cars and shoot at her. And even if she tried to hide, the best she could do would be any of these other buildings. She knew that she’d either need to dive into the river or somehow cross the streets...but both put her right in the open. This couldn’t be something that could happen until late at night, when at least the darkness could mask her movements.
Doing so was regretful, but Luise easily made her way back, swinging from the metal bars with perfect form. She crawled back into her room and set the tile back, then put her dress back on and returned the chair to the spot she had marked. The last thing Luise did was put her gag back on and tie herself up, though she kept it loose enough to pull off if she needed.
***
Not much was happening at the Vasquez’s mansion. A normal man would have stopped paying attention, but not Rico. Years of sniper training kept him fully alert. Even if he didn’t care for the kidnapping scheme, he was loyal to the Gordoli Family. The late Laut Gordoli had saved Rico, which meant it was necessary to pay respects to the man’s children.
Even though Rico despised their actions. Those three were each worthless in their own way, but it was not within Rico’s loyalty to do anything about it. While he didn’t wish it, the best thing that could happen from this is the death of the three brothers. With that, he would finally become free.
Those bitter thoughts clouding his mind banished at the sight of a newcomer.
Rico checked his clock and took note of the entire situation so he could report it later.
An important looking man with a wide-brimmed hat drove a motorcycle up to the mansion, spoke with a servant, then entered. It wasn’t someone from the servant list, and it wasn’t someone Rico could find on any of the other information sheets. Who was it? Some friend of the family? Or was it a person called to deal with the ransom?
This could be troublesome, Rico thought, sucking on his teeth. That wasn’t a police uniform, but someone with that type of confidence set off dozens of red flags in Rico’s head.
It reminded him of fighting against daemons and demons at the Burned Front.
The self-importance of his movement. The grandeur in his posture and action. The absolute surety in himself and the belief that no matter what happened, he wouldn’t be killed. It was the same type of delusion that people with power had. Whoever that man was, he was absolutely someone to worry about. But at the moment, there was no need to act. Rico had a device in his guitar case which could allow him to make a phone call directly from a phone line, but more realistically, he would need to descend the building and call from a pay phone. That meant abandoning his perfect spot.
It could wait. He would watch to see how long the man stayed. Then, if necessary, he would act. Otherwise, when dusk came and they changed shifts, he would relay the information to Nick then.
Things would not be so simple, however.
Shortly after Rico finished his lunch, at around 1:10 PM, another suspicious person neared the building as some kids started playing in front of the estate gates.
This was a younger handsome looking man in a black trenchcoat with long blonde hair. His movements were methodical, and he was obviously very aware of the world around him. Rico was actually impressed with how the man moved. It was as though his steps and body were magnetically attracted to the blind spots of those around him, and this person was able to reach the Vasquez mailbox without being seen. He slipped a small package into the duct and walked around a pillar as the gatekeeper was distracted by children.
After that, he didn’t appear again.
Rico had to have missed something, but he wasn’t sure what.
There was nowhere for the man to go. The pillar was a single one standing before the estate’s garden, and as servants walked around, none seemed to note anything in particular. One found the mail and brought it inside. Did this second mysterious person just vanish when Rico blinked? That was...possible, but highly unlikely. This man was elusive, but to escape a practiced sniper?
The seed of worry found itself planted in Rico’s head.
There was a reason for the man disappearing from his sight. The blonde man knew Rico was watching him, and because of that, he knew to hide. It meant Rico’s position was compromised, and in only a few seconds of thought, Rico calculated an immense amount of risk. He quickly put everything back in his guitar case and climbed down the building.
Luckily, there was an alleyway nearby where he could drop into, and on the other side was a huge crowd of people. He could use that to disguise himself. Rico blended in almost immediately.
It felt like someone was watching him.
Was he caught? But who was it?
It couldn’t be the police. Even if Vasquez called them, how would they have figured out the sniping spot? And if it was, why would they try to deliver a package to their mailbox? This sequence of events was illogical.
Rico stopped himself at a payphone and started dialing. He needed to report this, even as tingles along his spine made him feel paranoid.
***
“Things have mostly gone as planned,” Nick said to his two brothers. “But it seems to me like little old Mr. Vasquez decided to go and call himself up some help. Not from the police, but probably from some specialists.”
He had just gotten off the phone with Rico. The man was a man of dignity, but it was difficult to call him a gangster. Something about Rico bothered Nick, but there wasn’t any point in wasting a useful tool like that. Rico was worried that there was someone tailing him, but Nick had his doubts about that. Regardless, things needed to be accelerated.
“What are we doin’ then big bro?”
“Don’t worry,” Nick said. “The inclusion of outsider help was well within my expectations. There was a reason I didn’t say he couldn’t on the letter, though truthfully, I didn’t expect the man to be so bold. Apparently, it looks like Lenore hired two bodyguards, though we don’t know who either of them are.
“Which isn’t an issue. No trouble at all. What it does mean is that we can’t cook him under the hot seat like our original plan suggested. Nope. What we’re gonna need to do is make the deal tonight. Put a package in his mailbox with the details for the drop, then make sure we’re open and candid to him about how much we know of his actions. If we call him out, it’ll spook him, and then everything afterwards should be easy pickings.”
Bruno clapped at the plan, but Dominic felt queasy.
The more factors that came into play, the more risky the situation was. To a person without the confidence or skills to back themselves up, Dominic could only see the unexpected as a blockade that couldn’t be overcome. But that comforted him in some respects. If a normal person like him was worried about this, then wouldn’t Lenore Vasquez be just as confused?
A stack of newspapers were tossed in front of Dominic in the middle of his thoughts.
“Dom, I got a job for you,” Nick said. “Time to write another letter. Here, I just finished writing it. Make sure it seems as threatening as possible.”
***
The meeting was set for 10 PM, but it was more of a drop off than anything else. It was still quite some time before then, but all of the Gordoli members were feeling anxious. The plan involved watching the senator and having his two assistants go separate ways before attacking them and stealing the briefcases.
At 6 PM, some very unfortunate news came in from Frank, who delivered the package and was supposed to take over for Rico.
Rico was missing.
After the drop off was completed, Frank waited for half an hour at the meeting point, but Rico never showed up. This of course was completely unprecedented. Out of everyone in the gang, the single only person who would never be late was Rico. Before Frank went to his surveillance post, he gave Nick a call and explained the unexplained absence.
This worried the Gordoli leader.
Those earlier claims Rico had made about possibly being watched echoed throughout his head. Did Lenore have better security than they thought?
Of course, nobody else had noticed anything. The two kids were still safe and sound in their rooms. None of his men saw anyone out of place around the deserted manufacturing district, or near the warehouse. Other than Rico disappearing, everything was completely under control. But the feeling of anxiousness wasn’t going away. Nick was good at hiding his emotions, but after enough time, there was no way he could keep it under control if the pressure kept increasing.
The worry in his mind was that the plans had been leaked.
Rico was a very trustworthy member, someone who had served the Gordoli Family before any of the brothers had even learned how to fight. Nick knew the man didn’t like him, but their relationship was one entirely of professionalism, and Rico was something of a badass elite. He was the type of person that would kill themselves rather than tell an enemy what was going on. The type of person who could steel their mind and grind through all sorts of torture without surrendering. But that didn’t mean much if there were other factors in play.
The Vasquez son, Maxwell, was supposedly consorting with a devil. Were there other devils or daemons in the Vasquez command?
If there was someone who had the ability to read minds, or to force men to obey any commands, Rico would crack like any other mortal. This was certainly a possibility. It could explain why his man was missing.
But if that happened, why hadn’t anyone come to the warehouse?
Nick wanted to wrack his brain for an answer, but there wasn’t a point. He shunted all those worries away. If there was really someone coming to fuck with their plans, all they needed to do was kill ‘em. And if he really needed to act, then he could.
…
Actually, a spark of inspiration made its way into Nick’s head. His lips slowly curled up into a wicked smile and he scratched the scar on his face. This could be interesting.
***
Okay.
After spending the entire day practicing, Max was very confident in what he had learned about the blessing from Oriaxs. The amount of flesh he ate was correlated to how much flesh he could alter, though it didn’t convert at a one to one ratio. For example, the small amount of skin from the inside of his mouth was enough to transform his hands into tentacles and slip them through the ropes. Because he couldn’t turn them back, the obvious thing to do was cannibalize those new tentacles, and once those made their way into his intestines, he regrew his hands.
Hahaha.
It was so bizarre. The flesh regrowing and changing shape was ticklish. It looked like it should be painful, but instead, the feeling was the exact opposite. He kind of enjoyed it.
He made sure not to heal his ear. Recovering that would be too obvious, and there wasn’t any good way of covering it up. Plus, he wasn’t sure where he was, or when those gangsters would come back into the room. Even if he could remove their eyes or slice apart their brain stem, if he burned through all the meat in his body, it wouldn’t matter. If he got shot and couldn’t recover, it would be instant death.
Max considered reinforcing his bones, but decided against it. There was also the possibility of doing something to himself that could instantly kill him on accident, so it was too risky. If there was ever an opportunity for him to take advantage of the blessing, he would take it. But he wouldn’t act too early.
Patience was a virtue he never had before, but this was a perfect time to develop it.
***
--Half an hour before the accident--
“Grab the kid,” Nick said, suiting himself up. He slid a pistol into his belt and a switchblade in his pocket. “Lyle, Mick, and Tom, you’re with me. Make sure you’re armed in case shit goes down. Also make sure to have masks at the ready. We need to keep ourselves alert at all times.
“Bruno, you’re in charge of the girl and keeping the building itself safe. Keep everyone else with you, and make sure that nothing happens. Once the trade goes down, I’ll call, and then you can take the girl and drop her off in the streets somewhere. I don’t care where, but bring Dominic with you, and he’ll keep you from doing something too stupid. Sound good? Alright, everyone put your hands in.”
The Gordoli Family put their hands together in the center of the small huddle they had made. This was it. Their plan was going to come to fruition. It had to.
After a cheer, they all split up.
Bruno was dictating where to send his men, and the net to spread had grown shorter. Was there a reason for this, you may ask?
Absolutely.
Two of their fellow gang members, Eric and Rolly had been killed. Nobody knew what happened to them, but their heads came rolling into the building only a short while ago, both looking like they had been killed while in pure terror. It looked like someone sawed their heads off, and when men scouted around, they couldn’t find anyone.
Since then, they had taken up a defensive formation, but nothing happened. Fuck it, Nick decided, and they came up with the current plan. If it was an attack by Vasquez, then they needed to split his attention. Force him to do what Nick wanted.
He wanted to grab the daughter, but that would waste too much time.
Instead, he busted into the room Maxwell was dozing off in.
“Wake the fuck up, kid,” Nick said, pulling out the pistol and pressing it against the hostage’s forehead. “We’re going on a little trip. And I don’t have any fucking patience at the moment. Make a single wrong move and I blow your brains out all over the floor. Try me. I do not give a fuck at the moment.”
The kid’s eyes were wide with fear, so Nick deemed it fine.
“Tom, grab ‘em and throw ‘em in the car. I’ll ride next to him to make sure nothing happens. The rest of you take another car. You’re all in charge of separating and grabbing the suitcases from Vasquez’s men. Bash them over the head or fucking shoot them. I don’t care. Just make sure you have those suitcases in your hands before you do anything. Move.”
“Ay, boss.”
Tom was a burly man and had no difficulty picking up Maxwell and slinging him over his shoulder. They hustled to the worn-down automobile, and Maxwell was tossed in the back seat. Nick got in next to him and set the pistol down on his knee, facing his hostage.
But his eyes were on the area around the car.
Was there someone watching?
There had to be. The car’s engine screamed like a monster. But nothing happened. Could they be waiting to attack the hideout? Well, Bruno would handle that. Splitting attention up would weaken any force, moreso on the attacker’s side. Defenders, though reactive, had the ability to set the stage. And by forcing Lenore’s hand, he could brute force the deal to work.
In the warehouse, Bruno was arming his men head to toe.
Finally, he thought. A fucking fight. I’m glad we get to. I was worried nothing fun would happen.
Even though this situation was a nightmare for everyone else, Bruno was revelling in it. He waved to his brother and the men he took as he left, then slapped Dominic on the back.
“Yo! Little bro, is something wrong? You seem sick.”
“I’m...I’m kinda scared.”
“Scared? Of what?”
“I mean, what’s going to happen? I don’t understand...are we under attack? Who are we fighting?”
The apprehension Dominic was feeling was something Bruno had never felt. It was the mindset of a normal person, where Bruno had been born completely different. A sociopath, through and through. His younger brother was annoying as hell, but he had never been in a fight before. After killing someone, the idea of death loses any weight it holds over you, so he just needed to go through that. Then maybe Dominic’s nuts would drop and he could become a man. If he got the chance, Bruno would push towards that tonight.
“It don’t fucking matter,” Bruno said. “We’re fighting whoever the fuck shows up. And why? Because we’re men, that’s why. Jack, go check on the girl. Bring her down here so we can use her body as a shield, just in case.”
Bruno smiled at the thought. He could not give a signle fuck about those two brats. To him, it made more sense to kill them after getting the cash, but it wasn’t what Nick wanted. Nick, Nick, Nick. Fuck! If he could get away with it, Bruno would strangle his retarded older brother without a second thought. If this gang was his to own, things would be different…
“Bossa, we gots a problem,” Jack said, returning with a grim look. “Da girl is gone.”
***
Throughout the day, Luise got better and better at escaping her bindings. The timing of when men came to check on her was methodical as well. Her guess was every four hours, after they changed shifts, one would come in to check on her. Make sure she wasn’t dead, or ask if she needed to go to the bathroom. Fortunately she hadn’t.
That’s how she basically learned everything that was happening.
And as she saw the men drag Maxwell out of his room and out of the side door to the warehouse, she decided it was probably the best time to act. The metallic beams on the ceiling were like child’s play to cross, and she’d already made sure the window was unlocked. She crawled out of it just in time to hear the sound of an engine roar to life, and Luise stepped out of the building onto the roof.
Ahh, freedom. It felt like such a long time since she’d been stuck here, though it was only a day. There was a mild sprinkle and the air smelled just as bad as normal. Yes, this was the trash heap she called home.
Just like inside, it wasn’t difficult at all for Luise to slide down the side of the building from a drain-pipe. Someone inside was shouting curses at the top of their lungs, so Luise figured that they probably figured out she escaped. Oh well. Hopefully that didn’t come back around to mean Maxwell’s death...but at this point, there was nothing she could do. These men were armed and dangerous. Her life was priority numero uno.
By using the shadows as cover, Luise was able to easily make her way out of the area. As she slowed her sprint to just a casual jog, her mind started to wander.
There was someone who attacked the group…
But who?
Was Lenore Vasquez really the type of person who would risk his children like that? It seemed highly unlikely to Luise. He was a passive man, and they had more than enough money to pay the ransoms.
Then who were they?
For a second, the image of Hanson and Honey flashed into her mind. Yesterday she had lunch with her friend, and Luise had even explained how she was going to swap places with her mistress. Was that it? They certainly had the skills to pull something like this off, but it seemed even less likely.
Technically, she was supposed to hangout again with Honey today, but still...it would be crazy if they got involved...
I mean, what sort of series of coincidences had to happen for all that to occur?