Chapter 11

Chapter 11

We all gathered around the table in the briefing room.

Mrs. Jones stood in front of the large TV screen.

“Our guy was just spotted around a Brooklyn dive bar. You’ll split into three teams: one goes in, another waits at the back door.” She pointed at the marked areas on the display. “The last group will surround the bar and make sure there’s no room for escape. I don’t want any mistakes.”

Her voice was stern, leaving no room for doubt.

“Move out.” She ordered.

I rushed out with James right behind me.

We took separate cars.

James and I entered the bar first. The moment the bartender spotted us, he tried to bolt, but James leveled his gun at him. The man froze, hands up in surrender.

James handcuffed him to a table while we pushed further inside, scanning the place.

Something about a section of the wall caught my attention. It looked… wrong. I tapped on the panels one by one until I reached the center. With a push, it gave way, opening in two.

A loud noise rumbled from below. James and I exchanged a quick glance.

I tapped the comms in my ear. “Everyone hold position outside. James and I are going in.”

We hid our guns behind us and slipped into the underground passage. The air inside was thick with smoke and the stench of alcohol. Music pounded through the walls.

The scene was chaotic—people were high, sniffing drugs openly, and women wandered around half-naked, offering themselves to anyone willing to pay.

I kept my stance, blending into the crowd but keeping my eyes sharp. James, however, was distracted. His gaze followed a woman with a large, swaying ass as she passed. He didn’t even realize I was standing next to him.

I tapped his arm and he jolted, muttering an embarrassed apology before disappearing back into the crowd.

My focus shifted when I spotted a man arguing with one of the women. At first, it looked like the usual drunken exchange, but the tension between them grew.

“You promised me you’d give me the whole night,” the man hissed.

“So? What’s your deal, huh? I don’t get to fuck only you, do I?” the woman shot back.

His voice dropped into a threatening whisper. “That’s not what we agreed on.”

She shoved him and pulled another man toward her. “He paid higher. You want a good fuck? Then pay good money.”

The young man’s fists clenched at his sides. His hood cast a shadow over his face, making it impossible to get a clear look.

I tapped my earpiece. “James, anything?”

“Nothing yet. This place is too crowded—it won’t be easy to spot him,” James replied.

“Stay alert. I’ve got eyes on someone unusual,” I said.

But when I turned back, the hooded man was gone.

The man the woman had chosen to follow lay unconscious on the ground.

I rushed over, checked his pulse—still breathing, thankfully. But the woman was nowhere in sight. Her handbag lay discarded a few meters away.

I picked it up, scanning the crowd. “James, I think I’ve found him. He’s taken a woman with him, but I’ve lost sight.”

“Description?”

“Blue hoodie, sweatpants, and some kind of bead necklace.”

“Got it,” James said.

I spotted an exit. “I’m going after him. Get the others inside—round everyone up. Cover the back.”

“On it,” James replied.

I pushed through the exit and ran outside, scanning the shadows. It led straight out to the alley behind the bar.

If we didn’t move fast, that woman could be his next victim.

Frustration burned in me. I raked my hands through my hair. James caught up, panting. “The dealers in the club are in custody. Any sign of him yet?”

I shook my head. “Nothing.”

Then—a loud thud hit the ground behind us.

We spun around.

A body had been thrown from the rooftop of the building next to the bar.

And there he was—the hooded man, standing at the top of the building. Even from here, I couldn’t see his face. He turned and walked away, disappearing into the night.

“Fuck,” I cursed under my breath, rushing to the woman’s side.

Blood pooled beneath her head, a crimson trail staining the concrete. She was alive—but barely. Her breathing was ragged, shallow.

“Ambulance!” I screamed.

Within minutes, paramedics arrived and rushed her into the vehicle. James and I followed closely behind, my coat soaked with blood. I didn’t care. My head throbbed as I buried it in my hands.

At the hospital, she was wheeled into emergency treatment. James and I stood outside, waiting.

When the doctor finally emerged, his expression was grim. “She doesn’t have much time. You’d better go in.”

I rushed inside with James at my side. Machines beeped steadily, wires covering her frail body. Her eyes were wide open, but her lips barely moved.

I brushed a hand over my face, horror twisting in my gut.

Then, with trembling fingers, she pressed something into my palm.

The machine next to her spiked in alarm, beeping rapidly. She convulsed, gasping for breath, her chest rising and falling erratically.

Doctors and nurses flooded the room, working desperately to save her. James and I stood frozen, helpless.

The steady beep turned into one long, unbroken line.

Flaltine.

She was gone.

I clenched my fists, rage boiling through me, and stormed out of the hospital.