Final Call for Mercy

9

I didn't break eye contact with her as the bullet hit the wall behind me, and pieces that were chipped off rained on the ground. Her eyes widened as she now started between the wall, the gun and I. Nicolas and Gabriel started pounding on the door and shouting again, ordering me to get out. I smiled at her, raising an eyebrow. "So? They're real."

Her eyes narrowed and she went back to the pointing the gun at me. Ximena took a step forward, lowering the gun to press it to my chest. I looked down at the gun, then back at her eyes. She glared at me, her expression still visibly puzzled with trying to decipher my intentions.

"If I kill you," she spoke slowly, as if thinking of what to say as she was speaking, "they'll come in and kill me. I'm not here to die."

I nodded, "they might. Well, they will. But not yet."

Another loud bang rattled the door, and Nicolas shouted from the other side, "Sia, don't kill her!" I sighed, controlling the eye roll. Ximena looked at me like she wanted to look hard enough to see my thoughts. 

"Hear that?" I pointed to the door behind me. "Sure, they'll plan to kill you, but not right away. Nicolas needs you because you got him hooked with the little parents thing. He'll wait until he has what he wants from you and then, he'll kill you. That gives you maybe two days, a week tops before they decide to end your life. You'd have enough time to plan an escape. And, knowing who you are, you'd succeed." The wheels continued to spin in her mind as I spoke again. 

Ximena pressed the gun harder into my chest. "Who I am?"

"Yes," I said. "You are Ximena Guzman. You are part of Angelo Mussolini's collection. That's how you ended up where you are now. You were one of his success stories. When he kidnapped me, he told me about you. About how willing you were to kill your parents. How you followed through with it. He was damn proud of how great you had turned out after he finished with you. So, yes, Ximena Guzman, considering who you are, you'd succeed. You and I both know how... effective Mussolini's torturing was. And how perfect his training was, too. He created super soldiers, and you are one of them."

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. "You're right. Except, as much as I dislike you, I'm not here for you. I'm here for Nicolas. I'm here to give him the truth."

I put a hand on the barrel of the gun and moved it to the side, away from my chest. She let go of it, raising her hands in surrender and stepping away. I smiled, grabbing the gun the right way and raising turning around. With two shots, I destroyed the camera's that were watching. I twirled around and faced her, pointing the gun at her head. She swallowed hard and stepped back slowly.

I pointed at the chair with the gun. "Sit."

She did as she was told, sitting down and staring up at me. I stood directly in front of her, leaning over and placing my hands on both arms rests of the chair. My face was inches from hers as I spoke. "I have the feeling you know more than you're telling us."

She looked away from my eyes, "everyone does."

I grinned. Going up against a kid from the collection made me feel alight with adrenaline. Trigger-happy and eager. It made me feel wicked. "That's right. But, see, I feel like your knowledge is something of use for me. Something tells me that you are way higher in the ranks than you're letting on."

"Why do you say that?"

I leaned closer and licked my lips, whispering into her ear. "Devil's intuition."

She laughed shakily. "What do you want to know?"

I moved back, at eye level with her. "Why were my parents attacked?"