The Missing Pattern

Into the Shadows Part 14

I hit the streets with Calvin at my side, the air still thick with the memories of last night's nightmare. The chill settled into my bones, the remnants of that twisted dream clinging to me like cobwebs. I could still feel the phantom pressure of the gun in my hand, hear the crack of gunfire, Calvin's blood on my skin. But the nightmare was over. And the real hunt? It had just begun.

Reese had managed to pull a few strings, get us the lead we needed. It was thin, a stretch, but it was all we had. A seedy bar on the edge of town—a known haunt for the kind of people we were after. People who trafficked in shadows and secrets, who knew how to stay invisible. But tonight, they'd see us coming.

"Stay sharp," Calvin muttered as we stepped into the alley that led to the back entrance. His voice was low, a grim undertone beneath his usual calm. We both knew this was a risk, walking straight into the kind of territory that could swallow us whole. But I wasn't about to turn back.

As we moved forward, every sound felt amplified, the creak of my boots against cracked pavement, the soft murmur of voices drifting out from behind closed doors. It was like the city was holding its breath, waiting for us to make a mistake.

Calvin raised his hand, signaling me to stop. He glanced back, his eyes dark, intense. "You sure about this?" His voice was almost a whisper.

I didn't answer him right away. I didn't need to. He could see it in my face, the same fire that had driven me past every line, every caution. I wasn't here for questions. I was here for answers.

I stepped forward, pushing past him, and reached for the door, my hand steady despite the pulse of adrenaline that thrummed beneath my skin. The door swung open, and I was hit by a wave of stale smoke, cheap cologne, and something darker, something that stung my nose and made my stomach twist.

Inside, the bar was a den of shadows and whispers. Men in dark coats hunched over tables, faces hidden under the brims of hats, eyes shifting with the paranoia of those who lived on the edge. But I wasn't here to blend in. I was here to make waves.

Reese, already seated at the bar, caught my eye and gave the faintest nod. We had a target—Markus Rey, a low-level enforcer who'd supposedly been talking big lately, hinting at his connections to something "big." He'd been overheard bragging about his part in a "special job," one that involved "prime goods." We knew what he meant. We knew who he meant.

I spotted him at the far end of the room, his greasy hair slicked back, a smug grin plastered across his face as he whispered to the man beside him. I didn't bother to hold back the disgust in my eyes. Tonight, there was no room for subtlety.

I walked up to his table, Calvin a step behind me, his presence a silent warning. Markus looked up, his grin faltering as his eyes landed on us.

"Mind if we join you?" I asked, my tone cold, my eyes locked on his.

He hesitated, a flash of recognition in his eyes. "I don't talk to strangers," he sneered, his bravado cracking as he glanced at Calvin.

Calvin leaned in, his voice low and dangerous. "I'd recommend changing your policy."

Markus swallowed, his eyes darting around the room, but no one was going to help him. I took a seat, forcing him to meet my gaze.

"We know what you've been up to," I said, letting the threat hang in the air. "And we know who you've been working for."

For a moment, he held my gaze, his mouth twitching with the beginnings of a sneer. But then his eyes shifted, that familiar flicker of fear flashing beneath his bravado. He knew. He knew he was outmatched, and his little power trip was about to end.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, his voice wavering just enough to give him away.

"Don't play games," Calvin snapped, his hand slamming down on the table, making Markus flinch. "You've been running your mouth about a 'special job.' About girls."

Markus' face paled, the bravado slipping away entirely. "I don't—" he stammered, but I cut him off.

"Save it. We know about Kiara. About the others," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, but the intensity in it made him sit up straighter, his shoulders stiffening with fear. "Now, you can either tell us what we want to know, or you can find out how bad things can get when I'm not in the mood for games."

His eyes darted to the door, desperation creeping into his expression. "Look, I just... I was just the middleman, okay?" he stammered, his voice dropping as his bravado melted into something else—genuine fear. "I don't know the details. I just... I heard they've been moving some of them out. Moving them upstate. They're cleaning house, getting ready for something big."

I leaned in, my voice a knife's edge. "Where?"

He shook his head, his eyes wide. "I don't know. They don't tell me things like that, I swear. But... but I know who might."

"Names," Calvin demanded, his voice ice-cold.

Markus hesitated, his eyes flicking around the room as though someone was watching. "Look, if they find out I talked... I'm dead."

My patience snapped, splintering like a worn-out wire. Without a second thought, I lunged forward, grabbing Markus by the collar with my good arm, jerking him toward me before slamming his face onto the table with a bone-rattling thud. The sickening sound silenced the bar, the kind of silence that thickens the air and chills the blood. But I didn't care—I was done being careful.

I leaned in close, my lips hovering an inch from his ear, my voice dripping with venom. "You think I'm playing with you?" I hissed, my grip iron-tight. He barely flinched, too dazed to process what hit him. I pulled my gun and pressed the barrel against his temple, letting him feel the cold metal, the weight of it. "If you don't start talking, you're dead. Right. Now."

He tried to keep up his act, but his eyes betrayed him—darting left, right, anywhere but at me. He was trembling, a thin sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead as he realized there was nowhere to go. My eyes locked onto his, my stare unflinching, every bit of patience and restraint burned to ashes. I tightened my hold on his collar, fingers digging into the fabric, daring him to defy me.

Markus flinched, swallowing hard, his bravado finally crumbling. "There's... there's a guy," he stammered, his voice a strained whisper. "Cortez. Big-time trafficker. He handles the shipments upstate. Runs things out of an old warehouse off the docks."

I didn't respond right away. I just stared at him, my anger simmering, pouring over every thought, every ounce of restraint I'd held onto. With one brutal shove, I drove his face back down onto the table. "Pray I don't find out you're lying," I growled, my voice low and razor-sharp. "Because I'll be back—and next time, I won't be so gentle."

Calvin reached over, his hand firm on mine as he carefully lifted my fingers from the gun. "We got what we wanted," he said, low and calm. Reese took my arm, gently pulling me back, her voice a quiet reminder. "Let's go, Kitty. It's enough."

The truth settled into me, heavy and cold. A real lead—a real chance to find Kiara, to find them all. We turned to leave, and I could feel Markus watching, a mixture of fear and relief etched into his face. He thought it was over, that he'd survive this encounter.

We were halfway to the door when his voice cut through the tense silence, a weak, trembling sound that scraped my nerves raw. "They'll kill you if you get too close, you know," he said, his voice shaking. "People who go looking for them... they don't come back."

I stopped, turning to face him one last time, my expression hard and unyielding. "Look at me," I said, my voice as cold as the steel I'd pressed to his head. "They've tried. I'm still here—and I'm coming for them." I paused, letting my words sink in. "Don't waste your worry on me. Be more concerned for them when I find them."

We walked out into the night, my body alive with the thrill of the hunt, the cold, unwavering fire that pushed me forward. I wasn't stopping, and neither were Calvin or Reese. The warehouse was our next target. I could feel the darkness closing in, thickening around us, but I'd go through hell itself if I had to.

They were out there. And I was going to find them—no matter what, or who, tried to stand in my way.