Entangled in the Mafia Affair (One Shot)

Chapter 4

0247 – 04 | 25 | 2020

JAMESON SPHERE

CORTEX OPERATIONS

DIAMOND DIVISION, SECTOR 42

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The heat from the water was searing my skin—yet, I stayed there in the shower for too long reliving the moments I spent with the mafia boss earlier. Rivulets of water were running through my naked body, and I felt them running along the lines of scars across my body.

I held one scar on the over my sternum, where a bullet rigged itself a hairline from my heart. It was my sixth mission—I was 16 years old and a prodigy among the agents; but at that time, I almost had myself killed.

We were in pursuit of a manic drug lord for which we were paid to take down and destroy his cartel. I remember the dingy warehouse—eerie and humid. I knew he was hiding down there after we ambushed his car along with his convoy.

But the darkness stopped me from locating him. Gun held down and at the ready, I clandestinely surveyed the warehouse. Catwalks lined the room from second flatforms until sixth over the top where the slivers of light were passing through boarded windows.

In the ground floor were conveyor belts and boxes, tables and tiger tanks, trucks, shelves topped with boxes, and in the end of the warehouse was a small room, like an office. I stayed to the dark corners, hiding my footfalls as I walked.

Then I heard quiet ruffling—a box moved to the side. I whipped my head toward the sound yet I could not pinpoint its location. Afterwards, I heard a clanging of fallen metal, tipped over. Then, the whirring of machinery and the conveyer belts started moving.

My senses were raging; I kept looking back and forth, side to side. But I cannot see him. I continued walking over the dark corners, where he could not see me. There, near the office, I saw a shadow sprint.

Silently, I ran towards center of the warehouse, the barest part of the room where I could be easily spotted, rolled and entered the gaping threshold of the office. I stood up. The office was empty save for the large table in the center and the floor cabinets encircling the room. The culprit's not here.

I moved over the cabinets, and pressed my eyes over the window. The warehouse was still empty. All that I could here now is the whirring of the machinery, masking everything from footfalls to escapes.

The moment I thought about the drug lord escaping, I hurriedly turned my back to flee and ran after him. However, I was startled when I saw him there.

No, not him.

Her.

She wore a man's a coat and a man's hat earlier. But now, she let the hair fall to her shoulders and I could finally see her feminine features.

"Surely, a woman like you can be a good runner in my cartel," she said and cocked the gun at me.

Fright was washing over me. I tried to lift my gun to her but she just shook her head in disapproval.

"You don't want to do that, hun," she confidently said, smiling at me mockingly. "But why waste time...well, see you in hell."

Then she fired the gun at my chest.

Now, I rubbed the scar emblazoned over my heart, like a brand of how careless I was before. Three years have passed but I swore, I could still the scar ache. I thought I was going to die, I could still feel the phantom of searing heat of the bullet laced across my chest, the broken rib and the flooding of blood of out of my body.