Max's heart pounded in his chest as he stood at the edge of the riverbank, staring at the chilling message scrawled in blood-red ink. The implications clawed at his mind, sending tendrils of panic wrapping around his throat. Yara was out there somewhere, and every second he wasted put her further into the grasp of her captors.
He turned away from the river, breathing heavily, the cold air biting at his skin. The fight wasn't over. Not yet. He needed to regroup, find a plan, and hunt down those who had taken her. His mind raced as he returned to his car, heart pounding, each beat echoing the dread in his stomach. He couldn't afford to fail her. *He wouldn't.* He fished his phone out of his pocket, knowing he had to take action. "Luther's contacts," he muttered to himself, scowling. "They have to know something." As he drove, his thoughts were a chaotic storm, images of Yara's frightened face flashing through his mind. He remembered the warmth of her smile, the way her eyes sparkled with mischief, how she had stood by him through everything—through the bloodshed, through the darkness. The thought of her in danger clawed at his sanity. They wouldn't break her. He refused to let that happen.---Arriving at the abandoned bar where he usually met with Luther's informants, Max stepped inside, his senses heightened. The air was stale, thick with the scent of liquor and despair. The flickering neon lights cast an eerie glow over the scattered patrons, most of whom were lost in their own worlds. He scanned the room, searching for the familiar faces of those who traded in information. In the back, a man with a scar across his cheek caught his eye, raising an eyebrow as Max approached."Max," the man said, his voice gravelly. "What brings you back here? Thought you'd gone off the deep end."Max's fists clenched at the man's casual tone. "I need information. Now."The man shrugged, taking a swig from his bottle. "You know how it is. Information doesn't come cheap."Max slammed his hands down on the table, making the glasses rattle. "This isn't a game. Yara is missing, and I don't have time for your bullshit. I need names. Who took her?"The man raised his hands defensively, the playful demeanor disappearing. "Whoa, calm down. You know I can't just give out names without a price." "Damn it, Ray!" Max spat, leaning in closer, his voice low and dangerous. "You think I care about the price right now? I'll do whatever it takes. Just tell me what you know!"Ray studied him for a moment, weighing his options. Finally, he sighed, his shoulders slumping. "Alright, alright. I've heard whispers—there's a trafficking ring operating out of the old docks. They move girls fast. Real fast. Whoever's behind it is connected. Dangerous."Max felt a surge of hope, but it was quickly overshadowed by anger. "You're telling me they've been moving Yara out of the city?"Ray nodded, looking grim. "It's possible. I can't confirm, but they're ruthless. Once they have someone, they don't let them go."Max's stomach turned. "How do I get to them?"Ray hesitated. "You don't just walk in, Max. These guys have eyes everywhere. You'll need a plan. You can't just charge in. It's a suicide mission.""I'm not afraid of dying," Max snapped, his patience wearing thin. "I need to find her, and I'll do whatever it takes to get her back.""Listen, man—" Ray started, but Max cut him off."Do you have a way to contact them? An address? A name?"Ray frowned, biting his lip. "I can try to dig up some more intel, but it'll take time. I—""No time," Max interrupted, his voice cold. "I'll handle it. Just tell me where to start."---The old docks loomed in front of him, dark and foreboding. The air was thick with the smell of salt and decay, the sound of waves crashing against the piers echoing ominously in the night. Max parked his car a distance away, stepping out into the shadows, the damp air clinging to his skin.He slipped through the maze of crates and containers, keeping low, his heart racing with every step. He could feel the tension in the air, a palpable energy that sent shivers down his spine. This was where they operated—where nightmares became reality.As he approached a flickering light coming from a nearby warehouse, he heard voices—rough, low, and dripping with malice. He pressed against the wall, straining to hear. "Did you hear? They got another one tonight," a voice said, grating and rough. "Yeah, the boss isn't happy. We need to keep things running smoothly," another replied, sounding annoyed. "The last thing we need is another screw-up."Max clenched his jaw, feeling the heat of anger pooling in his chest. He peered around the corner, catching a glimpse of men moving crates, their silhouettes harsh against the flickering light. They were armed—bullets gleaming in the dim glow. This was it.He couldn't hold back any longer. They had Yara, and every second wasted was another second he lost to them. He took a deep breath, steadying himself before moving in. He picked up a nearby pipe, feeling its weight in his hands, and silently approached the entrance. Just as he was about to charge in, the door swung open. Max froze, heart racing. One of the guards stepped outside, taking a drag from a cigarette. He turned, looking straight at Max, who held his breath, praying he hadn't been seen."Hey! You!" the guard shouted, his voice cutting through the silence.Max didn't hesitate. He lunged forward, swinging the pipe with all his might. It connected with the guard's head with a sickening thud, and the man crumpled to the ground, unconscious.Adrenaline surged through Max, and he pushed through the door, heart pounding. Inside, the chaos erupted. The warehouse was filled with men, their laughter cutting through the tension, unaware of the storm about to hit them.Max charged into the fray, swinging the pipe again, smashing it into the nearest man, sending him crashing into a stack of crates. Shouts of surprise echoed through the room as panic erupted.He fought through them, a whirlwind of fists and fury, adrenaline flooding his veins as he dispatched each man with brutal efficiency. He didn't stop to think—didn't hesitate. All that mattered was finding Yara.Finally, he spotted a door at the far end of the warehouse, slightly ajar. The sound of muffled cries reached his ears, and his heart dropped. Yara was behind that door.He shoved aside the last guard, sending him sprawling to the ground, and rushed towards the door, fear and determination propelling him forward. He kicked it open, adrenaline coursing through him.But what he saw froze him in place.The room was dimly lit, the air thick with dread. In the center, a small table was littered with various tools, a horrifying assortment of weapons and implements designed for pain. And there she was—Yara, bound and bruised, her face pale and streaked with tears, looking up at him with a mixture of hope and fear. "Max!" she cried, her voice hoarse.His heart soared, but just as quickly, it plummeted. Before he could reach her, the figure of the man who had taken her stepped into the light, a cruel smile on his face. "You should have stayed away, Max," he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Now you'll see what happens when you get too close."Max's blood ran cold. He didn't care about the threat; all he cared about was Yara. But the man raised a hand, signaling to the guards surrounding them."Stop!" Max shouted, adrenaline surging as he pulled his gun from his waistband, aiming it at the man. "Let her go!"The man laughed, a chilling sound that echoed through the room. "You think you can just waltz in here and take her? You really don't know who you're dealing with."In a flash, the man moved, pulling a knife from his belt and pressing it against Yara's throat. "One more step, and I'll end her."Max's hands shook as he aimed his weapon, heart racing. He could see the fear in Yara's eyes, the way her body tensed against the threat. "Don't!" she cried, pleading with him. "Max, please!""Let her go!" he shouted again, his voice breaking with desperation.The man smirked, twisting the knife slightly. "You want her back? Prove you can handle it, Max. Take a step forward, and I swear I'll make this hurt."Max's mind raced, every option swirling chaotically in his thoughts. He had to think—had to be smarter than this. But then, the man turned his gaze toward Yara, and something inside Max snapped. "Don't you dare!" he shouted, taking a bold step forward.The man's grin widened, the knife pressing harder against Yara's skin, a drop of crimson beginning to seep out. "Stop!" Yara cried, her voice trembling.
Everything went black around Max.
