Chapter 15 Touchdown in Mexico

Chapter 15 Touchdown in Mexico
The private jet touched down in Mexico City the following noon, wheels kissing the runway with a soft thud that vibrated through Thaddeus’s chest. He stared out the small window as the city sprawled below — a chaotic sea of rooftops, traffic, and distant mountains under a hazy sun. The air inside the cabin felt thick, heavy with anticipation and the faint scent of recycled air mixed with leather seats. Malachi sat across from him, calm as ever, while Raziel dozed lightly in the seat beside him, still recovering from his deep vision.

Thaddeus’s fingers drummed on the armrest. The Ageless Balm sat safely in its alabaster vial inside his jacket pocket, its faint, sweet scent still lingering on his skin like a promise. He felt stronger now — organs steady, senses sharper — but the relief was short-lived.

Uriel was still out there, chained and suffering. The thought gnawed at him like a persistent ache, making his stomach twist every time he pictured those black thongs digging into golden skin.

As the plane taxied to a stop, Malachi leaned forward, voice low and measured. “My lord, remember — I am known for my words. They can slip into people’s minds and sometimes compel obedience. We use that today.

Thaddeus nodded. "But we must be careful. Kane is no ordinary man. He knew Uriel would have aid, if you let too much out, he'd know."

"So, what do you have in mind, Master?" Malachi asked.

Thaddeus nodded, jaw tight, staring at the tarmac where a black SUV waited. “We drive straight into Kane’s territory. You make contact. Tell him I want to buy the fallen angel for ten billion. Make it sound legitimate — a wealthy businessman with a secret collection.”

Raziel golden eyes met his, calm but firm. “Master, we could go straight in. Save Uriel now. Strike before Kane expects us. We are strong enough. We could end this quickly.”

Thaddeus shook his head, leaning back in the leather seat that suddenly felt too confining. “No. Kane might have more of those arrows. I’m not ready to lose more friends. We play this smart. We go in as buyers. We assess. Then we act. I won’t risk you two the way I risked Uriel.”

Raziel stirred, opening his eyes. His voice was steady but carried a quiet weight. “He is right, Malachi. Sentiment cannot cloud us now. We are tools for the greater balance — but Thaddeus sees us as more. That changes everything.”

Malachi bowed his head slightly, a small smile touching his lips. “As you command, my lord. We will follow your lead. Previous owners treated us as slaves — ordering us around without respect. You see us as friends and equals. It… means more than you know.”

Thaddeus gave a small nod, throat tight. “You’re not tools. You’re my allies. My friends. That’s why we do this together. I won’t lose anyone else if I can help it.”

They stepped off the jet into the warm, humid air of Mexico. The tarmac smelled of jet fuel and distant rain. A black SUV waited — rented under a clean alias. Thaddeus slid into the back, Malachi behind the wheel, Raziel riding shotgun. The city swallowed them as they drove — narrow streets crowded with vendors shouting in Spanish, honking taxis, and the distant hum of life that felt both vibrant and dangerous. The air conditioner hummed softly, but Thaddeus could still feel the heat pressing against the windows.

Malachi drove with quiet confidence, weaving through traffic. “I will make the contact when we reach the edge of Kane’s territory. My words will open the door. But we must be careful. Kane is no ordinary man. He collects what should not be collected.”

Thaddeus stared out the window, watching the streets blur past — colorful murals on walls, children playing in alleys, armed men lingering on corners. “I know. But we need to see Uriel with our own eyes. If he’s hurt… if those arrows are still in him…” His voice trailed off, fists clenching in his lap. I sent him. This is on me. I won’t lose another.

Raziel glanced back, his voice steady. “We are with you, master. We are not slaves. You treat us as friends. That is rare. We will not fail you.”

Malachi nodded, eyes on the road. “Thank you, master. Previous owners saw us as tools to command. You see us as equals. It… means more than you know. We will stand with you, no matter what comes.”

They drove deeper into the city, the buildings growing taller, the streets narrower and darker. Kane’s influence was everywhere — subtle at first, then obvious in the way people glanced nervously at certain corners, the way luxury cars moved with armed escorts. The tension in the SUV grew thicker with every mile.

After two hours, Malachi pulled over near a quiet café on the edge of Kane’s territory. “I will make the call now.”

He stepped out, phone in hand. Thaddeus and Raziel waited in silence. The air inside the SUV felt thick, charged. Thaddeus’s mind raced — images of Uriel chained, golden blood dripping, the little girl’s terrified eyes. Hold on, Uriel. We’re coming.

Malachi returned twenty minutes later, sliding back into the driver’s seat. His face was calm, but his eyes held a new sharpness. “It’s done. I spoke to one of Kane’s lieutenants. I told him a wealthy businessman from the north wishes to purchase a rare specimen — a fallen angel — for ten billion dollars. He was… intrigued. We have a tag and a time. Tomorrow evening at the skyscraper.”

Thaddeus exhaled slowly, nodding. “Good. We go in as buyers. We assess the situation. Then we act.”

The SUV pulled back into traffic, heading toward their hotel. The city moved around them — vibrant, chaotic, dangerous. Thaddeus stared out the window, mind already turning to tomorrow.

Uriel was waiting.

And they were coming.