Wrench & Blood

The Teeth of a Rat

The interrogation took place in the basement of an abandoned textile mill on the edge of Iron District.

Adam had chosen the location carefully. No windows. Thick concrete walls. One entrance, which Micheal guarded with a shotgun. The mill had been empty for twenty years. No one would hear screams.

Cole was tied to a steel beam with zip ties around his wrists and ankles. His nose was broken from when Adam slammed him against the van. Blood dripped onto his shirt. His left eye was swelling shut.

Vance was in the corner, similarly bound, whimpering. Dom stood over him with a tire iron.

Adam pulled up a rusted chair and sat in front of Cole. He placed a pair of pliers on his knee. Not threatening—just visible.

"I'm going to ask you once," Adam said. "Tell me everything about Cindy's operation. The trafficking routes. The buyers. The safe houses. Everything."

Cole laughed. It was a wet, gurgling sound. "You think I'm scared of pliers? I've been tortured before. Real torture. Not this amateur hour shit."

"I'm not going to torture you, Cole. I'm going to give you a choice."

"What choice?"

"Talk, and I let you walk. Don't talk, and I give you to Elena."

Cole's expression flickered. "Elena? The old Serpent b***h?"

"She's outside. Waiting. She told me she hasn't had a good night's work in years. Something about how she used to cut off fingers one joint at a time. Said she liked to hear the pop."

Adam leaned back. "Me? I'm just a mechanic. I don't know how to make a man talk. But Elena? She's an artist."

Cole stared at him. For the first time, his eyes showed something other than contempt.

"You're bluffing."

"Elena!" Adam called out.

The basement door creaked open. Elena walked down the steps, slow and deliberate. She wore a leather apron over her jumpsuit. In her hand was a linoleum knife—curved blade, sharp enough to shave with.

She didn't say anything. She just looked at Cole.

Cole's bravado cracked. "Wait. Wait."

"Talk," Adam said.

"Cindy will kill me."

"Cindy will kill you anyway. She doesn't leave witnesses. You know that."

Cole's jaw worked. His eyes darted from Adam to Elena to the knife.

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

---

For the next hour, Cole talked.

He told them about the trafficking operation—how Cindy had been running it for seven years, how she worked with the cartel to bring girls from Eastern Europe and South America. The girls were kept in shipping containers at Warehouse 17, just south of the Docks. They were moved every three days to avoid detection.

"The buyers come from all over," Cole said. "Politicians. Businessmen. Cops. Some of them fly in private. Some drive. They pay cash. Cindy takes a cut, the cartel takes the rest."

"Names," Adam said. "I want names."

"They're in the ledger. Danny had most of them."

"Most?"

"Danny was missing the last six months. New buyers. Cindy was careful with them. Even I don't know all the names."

"Who does?"

"Cross. And Viktor. The cartel guy."

Adam filed that away. "Where does Cindy keep her records?"

"She doesn't. Not on paper. She has a hard drive. Encrypted. Only she knows the password."

"Where's the hard drive?"

"In her office. At the Vance building. Top floor. But you'll never get to it. The building is a fortress."

"Let me worry about that." Adam stood up. "What about the hit on Danny? Who gave the order?"

"Cindy. Directly. She called Cross and told him to handle it."

"Why? Why Danny? He was just skimming."

Cole hesitated. His eyes darted again.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"Danny wasn't just skimming. He was working with someone. Inside Cindy's organization. Someone who wanted to take her down from within."

Adam's blood went cold. "Who?"

"I don't know. Cross suspected, but he never found out. The informant is still there. Still feeding information to someone."

"Feeding it to who?"

"That's the thing." Cole looked at Adam. "Danny wasn't the one collecting that information for himself. He was collecting it for someone else. Someone higher up. Someone who wanted Cindy's head on a platter."

Adam's mind raced. Danny had always been loyal to the Serpents. But if he was working for someone else—someone outside the gang structure—

"Who?" Adam demanded again.

"I don't know! Cross never told me. He kept that close. But he said once that Danny wasn't the target. He was just a pawn. The real target is whoever Danny was reporting to."

"And Cindy killed Danny to send a message to that person."

"Yes."

Adam turned to Elena. She was pale. "He's telling the truth. Danny was meeting with someone. I saw him. A man in a suit. Never got a good look at his face."

"When?"

"Two weeks before he died. At the Rusted Spoke. They talked for an hour. Danny looked scared."

Adam sat back down. His legs felt weak.

He had thought this was simple. Revenge. A brother avenging a brother. But if Danny was working for someone else—if this was part of a larger game—

"You're in over your head," Cole said. "You think you're avenging Danny. But you're just a piece on someone else's board."

"Maybe. But that doesn't change what I'm going to do to Cindy."

"She'll kill you."

"She can try."

---

Adam walked over to Vance.

The younger man was shaking, tears streaming down his face. His pants were wet—he'd pissed himself.

"Please," Vance said. "I didn't do anything. I was just driving. I didn't even know what Cross was doing."

"You were there. At the warehouse. When Danny died."

"I stayed in the car! I swear! I didn't see anything!"

"But you knew. You knew they were going to kill him."

Vance sobbed. "What was I supposed to do? Cross would have killed me too."

Adam stared at him. He thought about Danny. About the two bullets in the back of his brother's head.

Then he turned away.

"Let him go," Adam said.

Dom looked at him. "What?"

"Let him go. He's useless. He doesn't know anything."

"He'll run straight to Cindy."

"Let him. Let her know we're coming. Let her be scared."

Dom hesitated, then cut Vance's zip ties. Vance scrambled to his feet, looked at Adam with wide eyes, and bolted up the stairs.

"That was a mistake," Micheal said from the doorway. "He'll tell her everything."

"That's the point." Adam turned back to Cole. "Now. What about you?"

"What about me?"

"I told you. Talk, and you walk. So walk."

Cole blinked. "You're letting me go?"

"I'm giving you a chance. Take it or don't."

Adam cut Cole's zip ties. Cole stood up slowly, rubbing his wrists. His eyes were wary.

"Why?"

"Because I want you to deliver a message to Cross."

"What message?"

"Tell him that Danny's brother is coming. Tell him that every night, he should check his locks. Check his windows. Check his back seat before he starts his car. Because one night, I'll be there. And when I am, he won't see me until it's too late."

Cole stared at him. Then he nodded. "You're crazy."

"Maybe. But I'm alive. And Cross won't be for long."

Cole walked to the stairs. At the bottom step, he paused. "One piece of advice. Free."

"What's that?"

"The informant inside Cindy's organization. The one Danny was working with. If you find out who it is, don't trust them. They're playing their own game. And in that game, you're just another pawn."

He climbed the stairs and disappeared into the night.

---

Micheal closed the basement door. "That was stupid. Letting both of them go."

"Vance is a coward. He'll run and hide. Cole is a soldier. He'll go back to Cross. And Cross will spend every night looking over his shoulder. Fear makes people sloppy."

"Or it makes them dangerous."

"Either way, we learn something."

Elena put down her knife. "The informant. The one Danny was working with. We need to find out who that is."

"How?"

"Danny kept records of everything. Maybe he kept records of that too."

"I've been through the ledger. There's nothing about an informant."

"Then it's somewhere else. Danny had other hiding spots. I know a few of them."

Adam nodded. "We'll check them tomorrow. Right now, we need to move. Cindy will know about this by morning."

They cleared out of the textile mill. Dom drove the van to a chop shop on the other side of the city—a place that would strip it down to nothing by sunrise. Frank and Vince took the sedans to a different location. Rosa went back to the safehouse to monitor police bands.

Adam, Micheal, and Elena walked.

The rain had stopped. The streets were slick and dark. Blackhaven's skyline glowed in the distance—the Spire, where Cindy Vance sat in her glass tower, untouchable.

"She knows your name now," Micheal said. "Vance will tell her. She'll come for you."

"Let her come."

"She won't come herself. She'll send someone. Cross. Or worse."

"What's worse than Cross?"

"The cartel has a man in the city. His name is Emil. He's a cleaner. He makes problems disappear. Bodies, witnesses, evidence. Nothing left behind."

"You've met him?"

"Once. He smiled at me. That's all. But I've never been more scared in my life."

Adam filed that away. Emil. Another name on the list.

They reached the safehouse at 4:30 AM. The kid, Leo, was at the computer, typing furiously.

"You're not going to believe this," Leo said.

"What?"

"I was monitoring the traffic cameras, like you said. But I also tapped into Cindy's network. She's got a server in the Vance building. I couldn't get in—encryption is too strong—but I saw something weird."

"What?"

"Someone else has been trying to access that server. From outside. Not a hack—they had credentials. Legitimate access."

"Who?"

"I don't know. The username was redacted. But the IP address traces back to a federal building. Downtown."

Adam's heart stopped.

"The feds?"

"Or someone inside the feds. Someone with high-level clearance."

Elena grabbed Adam's arm. "The man in the suit. At the Rusted Spoke. What if he wasn't a gangster? What if he was a fed?"

Adam sat down heavily.

Danny wasn't just a thief skimming from Cindy. He was an informant. Working for someone in the government. Someone who wanted to take down Cindy's entire operation.

And that someone had let Danny die.

"We need to find out who that is," Adam said. "And we need to find out why they didn't save my brother."

"And if they set him up?" Micheal asked.

"Then they're on the list too."

---

At 5:00 AM, Adam's phone rang.

He didn't recognize the number. He answered anyway.

"Adam Kosta." A man's voice. Calm. Professional. "My name is Special Agent Paul Harmon. I'm with the FBI. We need to talk."

Adam's hand tightened on the phone.

"About what?"

"About your brother. About Cindy Vance. And about the ledger you're holding."

"How do you know about the ledger?"

"Because Danny was working for me. And I'm the reason he's dead."

The line went silent.

Adam looked at Micheal. At Elena. At Leo.

"Where do you want to meet?"

"The Rusted Spoke. One hour. Come alone."

"Not a chance."

"Then bring your friends. But if anyone else shows up, I walk. And you never find out who killed your brother."

The line went dead.

Adam lowered the phone.

"Trap?" Micheal asked.

"Probably. But it's the only lead we have."

"You can't trust him."

"I don't trust anyone." Adam stood up. "But if there's even a chance he knows who set Danny up—I have to take it."

He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.

"Adam," Elena said. "Be careful."

"I'm always careful."

He stepped out into the dark, alone, the ledger heavy under his arm.

Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed.

The game had just changed.