Dry Your Tears

Six

"I think I'm going to be sick." Sander whispered as he and James got out the car, approaching the abandoned airplane hangar in the middle of nowhere, the wretched place that gave rise to so much pain and misery. Police tape hung loosely around the proximity, keeping intruders out, but James and Sander simply stepped over it, knowing that there wasn't actually going to be a police investigation, the police knew what happened and they weren't eager to interfere in an all out gang war, so they stayed out of it. Not that they could have done much anyway. 

Their breaths were heavy as they walked through the desolate building, memories of that fateful day rushing back to them. James, Sander, Adam and the rest of Elias' men had been busy fighting that day, away from where the actual drama had happened so this was the first time they had actually seen the building, the place where Aaliyah had been killed, Olivia had been taken and Alexia, hopefully taken as well instead of brutally murdered. The putrid smell of dried blood was still strong, despite it having been weeks and Sander gagged, keeling over, sure that he was going to vomit. 

"Will you get a grip of yourself!" James seethed, staring angrily at Sander, "We've done worse than this, seen worse than this, so please Sander, get it together." Sander nodded weakly, a sad sigh escaping his lips.

"I know it's just, with the other missions, we don't know the people that died, they're strangers to us so it hurts a little less but this," Sander's voice cracks as he gazed helplessly at his surroundings, knowing the awful memories that accompanied this place. " This was Aaliyah, Elias' little sister, remember when she was younger and we had to babysit her all the time while he worked. Remember when you fell asleep and woke up realizing she had coloured in all your tattoos with permanent marker?" James sighed before softly responding.

"I remember Sander, I do." With his dirty blonde hair, innocent blue eyes and soft smile, Sander wasn't built for a life like this, he was supposed to a vet, a teacher, anything but a part of a gang, even if their objective was to hunt down and kill sex and human traffickers. 

"And Olivia, she's been through so much, she's lost so much and almost lost her life because of us in Russia. She deserved better than this, she was finally happy, Elias and her, they were finally happy and now," Sander trailed off, eyes welling up with tears.

"That's why we need to do this, Sander, we need to find something, anything that might give us a clue as to what happened with Alexia, once we know that, we can use that information to find her and hopefully Olivia." James responded.

"That's if they're still alive." Sander muttered dreadfully and James grabbed  on to his arm harshly, his muscles flexed and tattoos visible as his fiery eyes stared into that of Sander.

"Hey, not you. Not you too, I need you with me Sander, we're their only hope now, they're only dead if we see their dead fucking body in front of us alright! Only then, only fucking then will I accept that they are dead." Sander gulped, nodding his head quickly.

"Let's go outside and check out the tarmac, there's nothing here." James muttered and began walking away, Sander quickly following along behind. 

"What exactly are we looking for?" Sander asked as he shielded his eyes from the sun with his hands, scanning the proximity for anything that might resemble a clue of Alexia's whereabouts. Suddenly there it was, a few metres away from him something lay on the ground, the sun's light reflecting on it causing it to glimmer and capture Sander's attention. He jogged to it, his pace slowing when he saw what it was. A silver necklace, a silver necklace with a pendant shaped in the letter A hanging from it. 

"James!" He had called, and the taller man came jogging towards him, his pacing slowing and eyes wide in the same manner as Sander when he saw the piece of jewelry. Sander knew who it belonged to, so did James, he knew because he remembered the countless times he'd tease her about it back at base.