Page 1 of Ethan
Chapter 1
(Ethan)
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“Be careful, Ethan. It’s a routine mission. All you’ve got to do is sniff around, get the info and get the hell out before shit goes down,” my team leader, Lucas, tells me over the phone.
“I heard you the other twenty times, cap,” I say with a chuckle as I check into the hotel I’ll be using for the duration of my stay.
The receptionist looks me up and down with an appreciative glint in her eyes. She’s pretty cute, with green eyes, a pert little nose, and a cute smile. I would show more interest if it weren’t for the fact that the only words I know in Spanish are hello and thank you.
The hotel I’m at is a three-star one at best. I’m here to blend, and while I might have the resources for a more expensive one, this hotel serves me well. It seems family owned, and I’m willing to bet the old grey-haired man standing behind the girl is her father. No way am I getting into that shit.
“You still there?” Lucas asks.
“Yeah. I’m gonna say it again, Lucas. I’ll be fine. You need to stop worrying.”
“It’s just…it was supposed to be my mission, but you had to pick up my slack. You can’t even speak Spanish.”
I fight the urge to groan. Was he not there when I volunteered for this?
“Lucas, I’m going to hang up. Enjoy time with your girlfriend cause you deserve it. And don’t call me again for the next 24 hours when it’s time to check-in. Just fuck off, please,” I add politely before hanging up the call.
I turn back to the receptionist, who’s still giving me a sweet, if slightly confused, smile. Thankfully, she didn’t understand that conversation. I stretch my palm out, and she hands me a key. I give her one last grateful smile and a nod before making my way up the stairs to my room.
I flop onto the bed and decide to get some shut-eye before my stake-out this evening. It’s going to be a long, hopefully, uneventful day.
*****
Three months ago, we caught the head of a large-scale terrorist cell. We thought that was the end of it until a few days later, when some goons from the same cell kidnapped Eliza, demanding the return of their leader. Revealing that the cell hadn’t been quashed as we thought, subsequent efforts to find them have been unfruitful so far. But a month ago, we received some intel that the terrorist group had been operating in Mexico. A few girls had been kidnapped, and it seemed they were setting up other operations.
We decided on a stakeout to garner information. The last time, we went in guns blazing, which didn’t work out as we’d planned. We must find out who the new head is, how they work, and where their base is. That is why I’m here, right now, crouched behind a dumpster in a shady alley.
The best hacker at our company, one of my teammates, figured out they have a meeting point at a bar in Mexico City. The bar is really old and rundown. Ordinary people don’tfrequent it, even though it’s close to a famous beach, which is why it’s the perfect spot for terrorist activities.
It’s silent for an hour or so until a few men arrive in a gray van with black tinted windows—a standard shady business vehicle. The clique is almost comical. The men who exit the van all look the same. Heavily tattooed, muscled, obviously armed, and with frowns on their faces. They’re people I would see on the street and think…he looks like a serial killer, which isn’t very smart of them if you ask me.
They walk in, and it’s silent for exactly five minutes before I hear shouting, and something akin to a fight breaks out. I can’t risk being spotted, so I hold my position. Ten minutes later, though, the door to the bar opens again, and the men come rushing back out—guns in their hands and blood splatters on some of their clothes. The last man to step out has a young woman with him. He has a firm grip on her wrist as she screams and kicks. I don’t need to understand Spanish to know she’s begging for her life.
I clench my fists at my side as I stare at the scene. I’ve never been so angry or felt so powerless. I want to help her, I really do, but I can’t risk being discovered. That would just lead to a whole new different type of trouble.
It’s not easy just watching, though. She’s young, I’m guessing not more than 20 years old, and she looks terrified. She manages to free herself from the burly man’s grip and runs for it but is caught almost immediately. It earns her a slap, and then the men retrieve a rope to bind her wrists together. She’s still screaming, but no one can hear her. The street’s mostly deserted.
I scan around, wishing there were something I could do to help.
Then I hear footsteps heading toward the alley. It sounds like someone’s running. I’m really hoping whoever it is doesn’treveal my location or run headfirst into this mess. It’s probably a civilian because I know damn well the local police aren’t going to get involved in something like this.
I don’t have time to stop and consider my options. I can’t risk being discovered. My hands shoot out to pull the person back into the alley before they turn onto the street.
“Oof,” the person breathes as I push them into the wall.
“Shh,” I warn, sneaking a look at the terrorists to see if they heard.
I look back at the person whose life I just saved and see it’s a woman. She’s really short, barely coming up to my shoulders. And her eyes are green—the kind of green that almost glitters, like emeralds. I’ve never seen green eyes as vibrant as hers. That’s all I can glean about her features before she kicks me in the shin.
“Motherfucker,” I swear, glaring at her.
“Why did you- “she starts, then is cut short by screams from the girl that’s being abducted.
