RESILIENCE (Resilient Saga Book 1)

by Marcia DM

  My mind is going into overdrive. I need fucking answers, and that little prick Asad has them.

  My cell rings somewhere in my home. That’s probably Carter.

  I follow the ringtone until I find it. The screen reads “RAGE.”

  Perfect timing.

  I swipe to answer.

  “Hey.” That’s all I can say while I make my way back to the laptop and rewind the end of the video once more.

  “Found them.”

  That was fast.

  “Where?” I’m trying not to sound too excited.

  “I’ve just sent you the coordinates.”

  “Roger. I’m on my way. Care to finish what we started?”

  “I’m already there.”

  CHAPTER 38

  BRUNO

  Irush back into the room, still holding my cell, to check on Sarah. I find her sound asleep. She’s clinching my pillow so hard, it makes me wanna jump in bed and stay with her forever. But I can’t.

  It’ll be just a few hours…

  I grab the car keys and leave the house without making a sound. I really don’t want to wake her up. It’s been so long since she had a good night sleep.

  I get in the car, punch in the coordinates Rage sent into the GPS and start driving to the place.

  I still can’t get the idea of Dante being alive out of my head. What if this is just false hope?

  Come on, Bruno. Think…

  AK-47s use a 7.62 by 39 millimeter full metal jacket round that would pierce through a regular car like it was made of paper. Nobody could’ve survived being shot six times at that distance, let alone endure an entire magazine…

  But we never got proof of death. I mean, besides that fucking video.

  In the extended video I found in Asad’s laptop, they pick up the chair, and Dante’s still bound to it. But he’s not showing any bullet holes or wounds, I should say. Instead, they put a bag on his head. That’s kidnapping 101. Right?

  I’m already an hour in and I still need to drive for one more.

  But if he’s alive... Why didn’t he try to contact me? I mean, after all this time, I’m sure he had more than one chance to make contact.

  That’s something Asad will have to explain tonight. I spot Rage’s Jeep and stop next to it.

  I turn off the engine, step out of my car and get into Rage’s.

  “Professor…” He chooses the right nickname to greet me. The Professor is here and ready to crack some bones tonight. He’ll do whatever it takes to get the information he needs, get my brother back, make the family whole again and make sure I get back to Sarah’s arms.

  “I ain’t gonna lie. I’m surprised you compromised this much to the whole situation,” I confess.

  “I have unfinished business with Bad Blood,” he replies without a hint of worry.

  You son of a bitch. Now it makes perfect sense…

  “That’s why he got away. I gotta be honest, I thought he made it out alive on his own, and that you were growing soft or old. Maybe a little bit of both.” Rage never missed a mark, and the ones who got away were just another target for him. This motherfucker loves the hunt.

  He scoffs. “I brought a set of tools. They’re in the back seat. I doubt that you carry any in that fancy little car of yours.”

  There are three open briefcases on the back seat. One of them has guns, the second has bladed weapons and the third one has a ‘lumberjack kit,’ or something like it. This could be interesting.

  “Is that a hacksaw? You came prepared,” I say in surprise. But he’s not paying attention to me anymore; he’s already focused on the new mission.

  “Get ready, we’re moving,” he says.

  I turn around to grab a weapon and I hear the driver’s door click open. This lunatic is ready to roll.

  He quickly grabs some rope and what seems to be a tranquilizer rifle.

  We approach a small house on foot, without any lights on the perimeter and no visible traps or any kind of security measures. Not even an alarm that will warn about trespassers. I guess there’s no need for that, since we’re in the middle of fucking nowhere. But then again, this is supposed to be a safe house. Now that I think about it, a safe house would have been a bad choice, given that we found them before. It’s only logical that they picked an off-the-grid place.

  The house is surrounded by pine trees. It’s sad that the place smells great, if you consider it will be a bloodbath soon. A red Harley is parked near the porch.

  “There’s the bike they used to escape. We need to disable it. Puncturing the tires should work,” I point out.

  “That’s a negative. That beauty used to be mine, and she will be again. Stay away from her.” I’m not gonna lie, I did not see that coming. He referred to the bike as a ‘she.’ Clearly, there’s a story there— heavy, dark and full of blood.

  The night is dark, the sky is cloudy, and the air is packed with humidity, allowing us to be even stealthier. The thick old curtains are drawn, making it impossible to look inside. Luckily for us, they are not being too quiet. And that allows us to know where they are inside.

  “I need to gather more men, Leon! I lost seven of them in one take! This is not looking good for me. Soon, I’ll start to be questioned or second-guessed. People will start to doubt my presidency. I can’t take any more chances.” We can hear Bad Blood yell angrily at Asad.

  “Then do it. That should be easy. I’ve paid you a small fortune for protection and so far, I haven’t got my money’s worth. Instead, I get to hear you whine about how big of a failure you are,” Asad replies with that annoying voice of his.

  I turn right to check on Rage, only to realize he’s gone. I look back in front of me and I hear a door being burst open.

  “What the fu—” Bad Blood says.

  I hear two shots from Rage’s rifle, followed by two loud thuds.

  I run in with my weapon trained in front of me. Both of them are down on the ground with a tranquilizer dart in them. Rage is standing beside them looking at my ‘what the fuck’ face.

  “What? It was easier like this. I’m not hunting today… yet. Plus, there’s no time to waste.” He excuses himself as he grabs Bad Blood’s patch and drags him to another room.

  Him darting them down was actually not that bad. It gives me time to take Asad to another room, and while he’s out of it and developing what will be a very nasty headache, I set up shop. A room within a room, a space where painful screams can’t get out, and plastic sheets cover all the surfaces, ensuring no blood can leave a trace.

  Finally, Asad comes back to it. But he still doesn’t realize that the world he left when he was knocked out is gone.

  He’s in my world now.

  A few minutes go by, the tranquilizing agents wear out. I look straight into his eyes and I can tell that he gets it. He knows he’s fucked.

  He fights, squirms and tries to tip the chair over. But clearly this isn’t my first rodeo, and I know how to bound a bitch like him to a chair without having to worry about any attempts to escape.

  Still, just to toy with him I say, “Don’t even bother, you can’t and won’t get away.” He changes from panic to self-assured in a split second. He cleans his act so fast, it’s almost impressive.

  “But, Professor…” He tries to speak in his charming and calm tone.

  “Ah-ah-ah,” I interrupt him and raise my index finger. “Did I say you could speak to me? I’ll do the talking, the questioning and the laughing at the end, of course. Got it?” Just when I finish that sentence and before he can reply, Bad Blood’s screams reach our ears. I don’t say anything just yet. I let him sit there, wondering what’s happening to his lackey. Sometimes, silence can speak louder than words. Then, Bad Blood screams for mercy and curses Rage. Hearing Bad Bloods’ screams makes me realize that I wouldn’t wish that to anybody, not even my worst enemy. Rage can be too intense, even for me. But that motherfucker deserves it for sure. He had coming every second of whatever Rage is doing. That’s karma; and if you
don’t respect her, she can be a real bitch. Those screams are nerve-racking, and Asad feels it.

  “You infidel! This is going to cost you dearly! Who do you think you are to touch me? You are going to die, just like your cow.” That last bit of poison comes out of him mixed with an empty threat. What he doesn’t know is that calling her a cow triggers the darkest side in me.

  The Professor is here, and God dammit, this is going to be a great night.

  CHAPTER 39

  BRUNO

  Everyone who met the Professor before always points out how relaxed and correct he is. And they are not wrong. But they are also missing an important part. That’s how psychopaths are— laid back, thoughtful and, well, deadly. The Professor is no exception; if you met him and he had to work on you, make no mistake, death was coming. It was something every victim knew from the start. Even though he never said the words ‘you’re going to die,’ it was more like a gut feeling, just like the one you get when you see the monstrous waves on the ocean after a submarine earthquake, or the second after you see a grenade fall in your lap; the calm before the storm.

  When I tap into this persona, my senses heighten, allowing me to see the world differently. But right now, the world is in here, in this room alone, and Asad is trapped with me. He’s going to get my undivided attention. I’ll make sure he breaks fast, but I’m not stopping my work when that happens. This is personal, he made it personal. And now, I WILL make him regret that. He’ll look into my eyes and beg, again and again. Something his father couldn’t do. He’ll cry and claim for mercy where there is none to be had. Until finally, he will hope for death to come and collect him. What he doesn’t realize is that I’m the reaper tonight and death will come, but without shortcuts.

  I slowly walk towards him, feeling excited about it, smiling even. I lean forward, put my hands over his fore arms, hold my face right in front of his. The sound of air quickly escaping his body through his nose tells me he’s scared shitless, even though he’s trying to act tough. That’s how everyone starts— they think they can take it. And the more stubborn they are, the easier it is to break them.

  “This is your final lesson. I call it, ‘You can’t.’ You can’t touch me. You can’t get out. You can’t survive. I should’ve given you this lesson a long time ago.” I say calmly.

  “I’m not afraid of you, Professor.”

  “Let’s see what your body has to say about it. Shall we?”

  “Nothing you can do to me will match what I made her do to you. That must have hurt so bad.”

  I chuckle. “Hurt? I’m talking about pain here. I know pain. I AM pain. And sometimes I like to share it with fuckers like you.”

  His eyes show panic. He’s trying hard to conceal it, but there’s only so much a person can do to keep it together. And Asad, well, he already spent what little he had back in the warehouse when I was beating the shit outta him. I step back and look at him at a distance; I stand silent and observant. My silence is a trigger for his nervous state. He avoids eye contact. He can barely breathe without looking desperate. If my stance is already having an effect on him, this is really going to be a great night. Finally, I start my questioning with a barely audible whisper. He will have to put some energy into hearing me.

  “How did you know about Sarah?” He looks away to his right, through a window near him I left open, pondering about the possibility of escaping this place and ignoring the plastic covers between him and it. The irony behind an open window and its freedom is perfect for a moment like this. Five seconds go by. That’s my queue. I was expecting he wouldn’t answer immediately.

  I grab a pair of pliers from one of Rage’s cases and walk straight towards him. I get a tight hold of his face from the jaw. “Open your mouth for me.” He fights.

  “Hmm-hmm.”

  “Come on, open big and say ‘AAAA,’” I say, and shove the pliers straight into his mouth, busting his upper lip in the process.

  “Hmm!” He groans.

  “Oops. Well, I told you to open. This is technically your fault. Although I can work with it.” I grab his busted lip with the pliers and start to pull, revealing his teeth. I keep pulling until he screams in pain and opens his grill. I make the most of the moment; I quickly let go of the lip and go for a canine. A fast and snapping movement from my wrist is all it takes to rip it off.

  He tries to mumble something back at me, probably an insult. “That’s the only freebie you’ll get tonight. The rest are going to come off, slower and more painfully than that.” Blood gushes from his mouth like a brand-new fountain in a very popular and touristy place.

  “Fuck you!” He grunts.

  “Not what I wanted to hear.” I go for another tooth, this time an incisive from the top. “You’re making this fun for me. You know how much I love to pull teeth out.” I start to pull it slowly sideways and twist it a little bit.

  Asad groans and shakes his body as much as he can. He’s jerking his head back, but I don’t lose grip of the tooth. Finally, it comes out. The blood coming from his mouth runs down his chin. He gasps for air and coughs repeatedly. He wants to curse, he wants to spit on my face, but just as the lesson goes— he can’t. Instead, he closes his eyes and tries to calm down.

  Still holding his tooth with the pliers, I hold it in front of his face and whisper into his hear. “I’m waiting…”

  “Alright, alright! I’ll talk…” He says, making me both happy and sad at the same time. Even though I want the information, I also want to keep working him. I know I’ve said he’d break quickly, but I didn’t think it would be this quickly. And to be completely honest, I was really enjoying it, more than I let him know. “There’s a detective named MacArthur, he’s the snitch,” he retches.

  MacArthur. I was right. I knew there was something fishy about him, and now I know it for a fact. That’s why I don’t trust the government— it’s people like him I despise. They don’t hold their offices high and sadly for him, he won’t get a chance to mend it. I grab my cell from my pocket and text his name to Carter. He knows what I want.

  He replies: OK.

  So long, asshole.

  “If he sang, why didn’t you show up in my house?”

  “He wouldn’t dare give me your address!” He claims while still drooling blood mixed with saliva. “He went off the grid after giving me the information. He wouldn’t take my calls anymore.”

  Dick for brains probably saw it coming. He knew he was dead the moment Sarah came to me for help —that’s why he bolted. Wherever he is, he’s not safe. Carter has eyes and ears everywhere around here.

  “Why don’t you cut to the chase and ask what you really want to know?” He mumbles defiantly.

  I see red for a moment.

  Dante.

  He knows.

  I need to focus. I dive into silence, gathering my thoughts, thinking carefully about the words I want to use. In that silence, I notice I’m still holding the pliers. Already going for his fingernails. Pulled one off like it was a splinter.

  “What are you doing!? You fucking psychopath! I’m already talking. Why did you do that?” He screams.

  “Because I could,” I say.

  “Ask a question, please, I beg you.” Beg, check.

  “You’re giving me orders now, aren’t you? Maybe you need me to keep giving you a manicure.”

  “No, no. Please, don’t. Stop it, have mercy.” Claim for mercy, check.

  I walk behind him, grab his hair and pull his head back. The fucker starts praying.

  “Your god is not going to save you. Not him, not anybody. You’re all alone with me.”

  “Allah will save me. He holds my future in his hands.”

  “Wrong. I hold your destiny in my hands because you don’t have a future. I’m your god tonight. Tell me I’m your god.”

  He sobs and remains silent.

  “Say it!”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Why am I doing this? You know the answer to that one. So, tel
l me. Why am I doing this?”

  “B-B-Because you enjoy it…” He answers and bursts into tears.

  Bingo.

  “That’s right. I’m having a field day. Now, how did you get out of the shithole where you held your prisoners?”

  “I got lucky.”

  “Not good enough. Let me show you how unlucky you are right now.”

  “No, please. No mor—argh!” I cover his head with a plastic bag and pull it tight. He gasps for air, suffocating.

  He’s about to pass out.

  I twist one of his nipples as if I’m using a corkscrew to open a bottle of wine. He comes right back up. That never fails.

  “Did I give you permission to pass out? No. I didn’t.” Pussy. “You’re a lightweight, just like your father. No wonder he begged for mercy before I sliced his throat open with my knife.” That’s not true, but he doesn’t know that, and I’m counting on it to keep him in the sweet spot where he’d give me everything.

  “H-h-he could’ve given you more information than me about your brother’s whereabouts,” he stutters.

  That’s probably true, if only I’d known before killing him. But now it’s too late to think about that. Plus, he’s trying to distract me by throwing frustration my way. But this is my show, I run it. So okay, let’s play.

  “What do you mean?” I say and watch his face gain a little confidence.

  “My father had direct contact with that organization.”

  “Organization, huh? How direct?” I throw a confused expression into my face for him to see.

  “Yes, yes. He had business meetings with them, the kind that you attended in person, not through a phone call.”

  “What kind of business?”

  “We ran security for them sometimes.”

  “Okay. Why would an organization that deals with terrorists need to hire security?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You expect me to believe that?”

  “I don’t know. Like I said, my father was the one in direct contact. He never told me any details.”

  “Okay… Okay… If you want to lie…” I say, then walk towards the suitcase and pick a drill with a bit.