The Web Tightens
670 Words
Nathan Cole had years of making do in the crack by now, killing bones of men, eating anyone who looked at him funny, but now, he was back in the hunt, and the further he travelled, the closer he ticked towards it towards danger.
He stepped off the docks of Porto Azul, a smuggler's port of call a few weeks off the coast of Argentina, and the air was thick with salt and rust. Here’s where the city’s underbelly flourished black-market traders, corrupt officials, and the kinds of folks who would sell a man’s life for a fair price. And here, among them, was his next lead: Carlos Esteban, an informant who had previously worked for the cartel.
Nathan pulled his hood down over his face to become just another dockworker or smuggler in the throng. He wasn’t in it alone his trusted right-hand man, Luka Varga, was keeping an eye on him from a rooftop above, prepared to call in backup if things went wrong. They always did.
Carlos was supposed to have information about Viktor Orlov’s latest arms deal a deal that might blow the lid off his ties to Elias Grant, the crooked government official who has his back. If Nathan could obtain the intel, it would be a blow to Orlov’s empire.
But something was off. Carlos was late.
Nathan had the instincts of a predator, and never more so than when the night air was pierced by the distant roar of a motorbike. A black S.U.V. came into view, its tinted windows revealing nothing. Carlos arrived minutes later, in the company of two men who were clearly not simply business associates.
“This is not good,” Luka’s voice crackled in Nathan’s earpiece.
Nathan kept it together, stepping forward as Carlos moved in. The informant seemed nervous, sweat shining in the flickering lights under the dock.
"You got what I need?" Nathan asked, his voice low.
Carlos hesitated. "Things have changed. Orlov knows you're after him. He’s"
A gunshot went off before Carlos could say the rest. His body spasmed as a bullet punched through his chest, and he sagged against Nathan. Nathan’s hands were stained with blood as he set Carlos down on the ground. The doors of the SUV swung open and armed men poured out.
An ambush.
Nathan ducked behind a stack of cargo crates as bullets screamed through the night. Luka’s sniper rifle barked from above, dropping two of the assailants. Nathen drew his pistol, returning at fire at rage as he moved. He had seconds before they trapped him.
Carlos was dead. The lead was gone. But before his last breath, Carlos had slipped something into Nathan’s pocket a small flash drive.
Nathan didn’t have time to verify it. More men were coming. Luka’s voice was a knife in his ear. “We need to move now!”
Nathan saw a narrow passage between two storage buildings and ran toward it, Luka covering him. The sounds of pursuit grew closer. He hopped over crates, ducked under startled workers, and ducked into a dark side street just as Luka tilted down beside him from the rooftop.
They kept running until they reached a safe house deep in the Porto Azul slums. Only then did he extract the flash drive.
He connected it to his locked tablet, the screen coming alive. The loads of files bank transactions, weapon shipments, encrypted messages. Then one image stopped him in his tracks.
Maya. His sister.
One of the photos showed her alive, leaning against the background of an arms deal. The timestamp was recent.
Nathan’s heart pounded. He had believed for years she was dead. But if this was real, if she were still out there..
His search was suddenly very personal.
Luka glanced at the screen. “Nathan what does this shit mean?”
Nathan’s jaw tightened. It meant that Orlov had been lying for years. It meant everything he thought he knew was right.
It meant the real game was just getting started.
- Writer
