The Missing Pattern

Inferno Part 20

The two paramedics hesitated, their eyes flicking nervously between me and the bleeding wreck of a man on the floor. They worked quickly, treating his wounds as best they could—patching him up just enough to keep him breathing—before moving on.

Calvin was almost out of the building, Kiara cradled carefully in his arms. Her body trembled, a pale shadow of the fierce spirit I knew she once had. Seeing her like that—broken—only hardened the fire in my chest.

"Bailey," I said sharply, catching her arm. "Get on the phone with the hospital. I want every single one of these girls on the same floor. That floor is locked down. Police detail at every entrance. Cleared law enforcement, cleared medical staff, and immediate family—only. No exceptions."

She hesitated for half a beat, the wheels turning in hers head as he processed the weight of what I was asking. "I don't know if they'll let us," she muttered, glancing at me. "And what about Thompson?"

Then she saw it—the rage simmering just beneath the surface, the storm threatening to break free. I didn't need to say a word. The look in my eyes told her everything she needed to know.

"No exceptions," I growled, my voice low and deadly.

She swallowed hard, the tension in her shoulders easing as he finally nodded. "Yes, ma'am." He didn't argue, didn't question it any further. He was already dialing, moving fast to make it happen.

I turned to Ford, my voice a low, vicious growl. "You're overseeing SWAT. Round up every last one of Cortez's men—get them all to the same hospital, different floor. Maximum security, no visitors, no exceptions. I want that floor locked down tighter than Fort Knox. Every man who can talk, I want someone in that room, making sure we get answers. We find Cortez, now."

Ford's jaw clenched, the tension radiating off him like a live wire. But he didn't hesitate. He didn't flinch. "On it," he said, his voice as hard as stone, before turning to execute the orders without a second thought.

With those pieces in motion, I let my gaze sweep the room. We were alone now—me and him. The bastard I'd left behind, Cortez's number two. He was slumped against the wall where the paramedics left him, blood pooling beneath his shoulder and leg. His breath came in ragged gasps, the pain etched deep into his face. But there was something else there too. Fear—real Fear.

Good.

I approached slowly, letting my boots echo against the cold concrete. His eyes darted around, searching for an escape that didn't exist.

"Look around," I said, my voice low, venomous. "There's no one here to save you. No one left to protect you. It's just you and me now."

He tried to speak, but all that came out was a choked rasp. I crouched in front of him, meeting his gaze. "Two questions," I said, my tone icy. "And you'd better pray you have answers I like. First: Where is this house you mentioned? The one where the girls are sent? Second: Where. Is. Cortez?"

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing like it might choke him. "I don't know where he is—he moves around too much! The house... I only know one. But if I tell you, he'll kill me!"

I laughed, a sharp, humorless sound that made him flinch. "You're worried about him killing you later? You should be worried about me killing you right now."

Before he could react, I pulled the trigger. The gunshot cracked through the air, and his scream followed a heartbeat later. Blood poured from his other shoulder, pooling in the growing stain on his shirt.

"You crazy bitch!" he screamed, his voice high with pain as he twisted against the wall. "I told you what I know! Why the fuck did you shoot me again?" His body trembled, blood pouring from the new wound, his face contorted in agony. "I don't know where he is, I swear! Please—please stop shooting me!"

I grabbed his face, forcing him to look at me. "Mercy? You think you deserve mercy after what you did to those girls? "After what I saw you did to Kiara?" I hissed, my voice low and venomous. "You think I'm done? You think you deserve mercy after that?"

I leaned in closer, the barrel of my gun inches from his face, my fury rolling off me in waves. "Her bruises, her screams, her terror—that's on you. Every second of their suffering is etched into their skin because of what you and your kind did."

His breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling. "I swear, I didn't—"

"Shut the hell up!" I snarled, my voice like the crack of a whip. "I saw you on that screen. You don't get to talk. You don't get to lie to me. You don't get to breathe without my permission." My finger twitched on the trigger, my restraint thinning with every passing second. "Mercy isn't for you. Justice is. And I am your Justice."

"Wait, wait!" he choked out, trembling. "Cortez—he's not the top guy! He answers to someone else! Someone bigger! You don't understand—he's protected!"

The words hit me like a sledgehammer, but I didn't let it show. My fury boiled hotter, my grip tightening on the gun.

"Who?" I hissed, the venom in my voice slicing through the air like a blade. The barrel pressed harder against his temple, cold steel biting into his sweat-slicked skin. "Who's in charge of this hell?"

His breath hitched, his eyes wide with terror as they darted around the room like a trapped animal searching for an escape. But there wasn't one. Not from me.

"I—I don't know!" he sobbed. "I swear!"

"Who?" I demanded, my voice a low growl. "Names. Locations. Now."

"I don't have names! Please, I only know whispers, rumors! They're untouchable—government ties, powerful people! Cortez is just a middleman!"

Before I could press him further—before the weight of my fury could drown us both—I heard footsteps behind me, steady and deliberate. Then came Calvin's voice, low and firm, slicing through the haze like a lifeline.

"Harper."

I didn't turn, but his words hit me with the force of a freight train.

"That's enough," he said, each syllable a tether to reality. "To the brink. Remember, he's there."

I exhaled slowly without looking at Calvin, I muttered, "He doesn't deserve a brink."

"Maybe not," Calvin said, his tone steady, unwavering. "But if you cross that line now, you can't come back. And we need you on this, Harper. You know we do."

Slowly, deliberately, I shifted my weight, planting my boot on his hand. I pressed down, feeling the bones splinter beneath my heel as he screamed.

"That's for every girl you've touched," I snarled.

"Stop! Stop!" he cried. "I know one of the locations. A house! Where they take the girls after... after the process."

I hit the mic on my shoulder, my voice cold and detached. "Send paramedics to my location. We have another alive one—well just barely."

As they came in to collect him, I turned, the weight of everything crashing down at once. My adrenaline drained, leaving only exhaustion and the sharp, searing pain in my shoulder. My body felt heavier with each passing second, as if gravity had doubled its grip. Pain pulsed in my shoulder, sharp and unrelenting, the wet warmth of blood spreading down my side. My vision blurred, the room tilting and swaying around me.

I tried to steady myself, but my knees buckled, forcing me to grab the wall for support. When I turned, Calvin's eyes locked onto mine—steady, focused, but filled with something I didn't want to name. Concern.

"Harper!" His voice cut through the fog clouding my mind, sharp and clear like a beacon.

I tried to respond, to tell him I was fine, but the words wouldn't come. The ground seemed to shift beneath me, the walls closing in as the edges of my vision darkened. The world tipped, and I felt myself falling, but I couldn't stop it.

The last thing I saw was Calvin, his face tight with urgency, sprinting toward me as if sheer willpower could close the distance fast enough. I wanted to tell him it was okay, that I could handle it—but I was already too far gone.

The darkness rushed in, swallowing everything.