CHAPTER FOURTEEN: NATASHA’S MOTHER
1087 Words
William followed her out, and Catherina led him to where she’d asked the visitor to wait. He blinked in surprise when he saw Derik.
Derik nodded at Catherina as she returned to her computer, then walked toward William, struggling with the many files he huddled in his crossed arms. “It was a complete blood bath yesternight, sir. I watched our men die like flies as they fought off something impossible. We weren’t prepared for the horrors we met.”
William’s face suddenly twisted in a frown. “How many men survived?”
“None sir. We’ve lost all our men.”
“Eighty highly trained TCU officers lost their lives in just one night?” William uttered in total disbelief. Then he glanced behind him. “Where is Sergeant Scott?”
“He’s dead, sir. Was the first to go down.” Derik’s shoulder slumped. “We had walked into a trap and ten of our best men were instantly lost in a bomb explosion that took us unaware. The rest were killed by something we couldn’t sense with our eyes—something I could never explain.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting that magic was involved?”
“I’m no believer in the art of magic, but what I witnessed yesternight cannot be explained by mere science.” He paused. “This is definitely voodooism.”
“An attack that killed all my men, and yet, somehow, you survived.” William cast a sceptical gleam. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
“Sir, I know you have no reason to trust me, but you have to believe me. I fled the scene before it—whatever was killing those men—caught up with me. Whatever this organization is, we can’t beat them by ordinary means. This is something far bigger than us, and we—”
A man clumsily walked past, nudging him accidentally. The files he held in his hand dropped and scattered on the floor.
“Ahh!” Derik let out a frustrating yell.
The man apologised as he bent to pick them up, but Derik quickly stopped him. “Don’t worry, it's fine,” he said. “I’ll get it.”
“You sure?”
Derik nodded his head at him and smiled rather awkwardly. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m really sorry once again. I wasn’t really watching where I was going,” the man apologised again and greeted William before he hurried away.
Derik bent to arrange the files on the floor.
William’s eyes were drawn to a photograph he held in his hands. “Wait, let me see that,” he said, stretching his hand to take the picture from him.
Derik handed it to him.
His eyes grew wide as he glanced at the photograph. “How the hell did you get a picture of Elena?”
His lashes fluttered. “You know the lady in that photograph?”
“Of course! This is my wife!”
Silence fell.
Derik blinked in surprise. “That’s your wife?”
“You still haven’t answered my question, Mr Rushford. How did my wife’s photograph end up in your possession?” he leered.
“If that woman in the photograph is really your wife, then she’s in grave danger,” Derik warned.
A cloud of gloom had settled over William. “What are you talking about?”
“Yesterday I got a lead—an address where T-Murek might be keeping his victims. But when I checked it out, I discovered it was a little bungalow. I searched the building and that’s when I came upon a room covered in many photographs. Your wife’s picture was among them. In that room, dozens of photographs were hanging on the wall. Some were crossed off with red ink, while the rest were unmarked. I recognized Mrs Eulich, Leonard, and Murphy from some of the photographs that were crossed off. I figured the marked pictures were the percentage T-Murek had already taken down.”
Derik quickly reached for his pocket and took out his phone. “Here, you need to see this. I took footage of the pictures in that room.” He played the video and held it up for him to watch.
“There was something about your wife’s photograph that caught my attention. All the pictures in that room were covered in dust—all of them except this one.” He gestured towards Elena’s photograph. “Someone had put it there recently. And on the back of that photograph, I noticed an address.”
William quickly turned to see what was written on the back.
44 Rashbrow Street.
A wrinkle creased his brows at the sight of the address.
“Does that address mean anything to you?” Derik raised an eyebrow at him. “Maybe that’s where your wife might be staying at the moment?”
“You don’t understand.” His forehead puckered. “Elena is on a secured military base where she’s being trained—but her training is over. She’s coming home today.”
Both men stared at each other in silence.
“Sir, I suggest you call her right now and tell her not to make that trip. If she comes back, T-Murek will kill her.”
William quickly took out his phone and dialled Elena’s number. The phone rang and nobody picked up. His brows drew together as he dialled her number again. Still no answer. Sensing trouble, he dialled the number for the third time. The phone kept ringing with no one answering it. Drops of sweat gathered on his forehead. William—panic-struck, dialled another number and listened to the distant ringing.
He heard a voice from the other end answer, “Hello, Michael Cooper speaking. How may I help you?”
“This is William Martinez speaking. Could you put my wife through? I need to speak with her urgently,” William requested.
“What’s her name, sir?”
“Elena Martinez.”
“Elena?” Michael asked in confirmation, his voice taking a different tone.
“Yes, that’s what I said,” he affirmed. “Is something wrong?”
“Sir, Elena Martinez is no longer in the camp.”
“What do you mean my wife is not in camp?” William retorted, his voice getting louder.
“Sir, your wife left the camp already,” Michael answered. “She left yesterday at exactly 9:30 pm.”
William’s eyes widened.
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