Sweet Hatred Chapter 487: Hit or Miss

Empty room. But signs of occupancy, food wrappers, cigarette butts, playing cards scattered across a makeshift table.

Next door.

This one had restraints. Zip-ties on the floor. A chair with rope burns on the wood.

My heart hamred.

She’d been here.

Next door. And the next. Clearing rooms systematically while Hayes’s team provided cover fire in the corridor behind .

A bathroom. Blood in the sink. Fresh.

A storage room. Empty except for crates of weapons and ammunition.

Another holding room. More restraints. A mattress on the floor with rust-colored stains.

And then, a larger room. Concrete walls reinforced with steel plating. Professional construction.

Signs everywhere that soone had been held here recently.

A torn piece of fabric, white cotton, like from a shirt. I picked it up, my hand shaking slightly.

Aria’s shirt. I’d seen her wearing it the morning she was taken.

But no Aria.

"FACILITY SECURE!" Hayes’s voice echoed through the building. "All hostiles down or retreating!"

I stood there, surrounded by evidence that Aria had been here, in this room, probably terrified and hurt.

But she wasn’t here now.

I missed her again.

My phone rang.

I pulled it out with my free hand, the fabric still clutched in the other.

Unknown number.

I answered.

"Did you really think I’d make it that easy for you?"

Andrew’s voice. Amused. Mocking.

Sothing inside went very, very cold.

"Co on, Kael," he continued, laughter threading through his words. "You should know better than that. I heard the gunfight. Quite the show. Very impressive. How many of my n did you kill?"

I said nothing. Just breathed. In and out. Steady.

Controlled.

"Where is she?" The words ca out flat. Empty of emotion.

"Safe. For now." Andrew’s amusent faded slightly. "But you cost so good n today, brother. That has consequences."

"Where. Is. She."

"Your 48 hours?" He paused for effect. "Shortened. You now have 24 hours to sign over everything. Maybe less, depending on how I’m feeling."

My phone buzzed. A ssage notification.

"Check your phone," Andrew said.

I pulled it away from my ear, opened the ssage with my thumb.

And felt my world shatter.

A photo.

Aria.

Tied to a chair, her wrists bound so tightly the skin was raw and bleeding. A gag in her mouth. Her face, God, her face, was a mass of bruises. One eye swollen shut. Split lip. Blood crusted in her hair.

And a gun. Pressed to her temple. The barrel digging into her skin hard enough to leave an indentation.

Her eyes were what destroyed . Bloodshot from crying. Wide with terror.

But also, impossibly, defiant. Still fighting. Still refusing to break completely.

My hand shook.

Just slightly. Just for a second.

But it shook.

"Pretty, isn’t she?" Andrew’s voice oozed through the phone. "A bit more colorful than before, but still, "

"I’m going to kill you, Andrew."

The words ca out calm. Matter-of-fact. A simple statent of truth.

"Not just kill you," I continued, my voice never rising, never wavering. "I’m going to make you suffer. Every person who touched her. Every person who hurt her. Every person who looked at her wrong. I’m going to end them all."

Silence on the other end.

He’d heard sothing in my voice. Sothing that made even him, sociopath that he was, pause.

Then, Andrew’s laugh, less confident now, slightly forced. "Big talk for soone who couldn’t even find her."

"24 hours, you said." I looked at the photo again, morizing every detail. "I’ll find her."

"We’ll see about—"

I hung up.

Turned around.

Hayes stood in the doorway, his tactical team behind him. All of them were staring at .

Sothing in my expression made Hayes actually take a step back.

"Sir—"

"Pull every resource we have," I said, my voice cutting through the sudden quiet.

"Satellite surveillance on every property Andrew has ever been near. Every informant, every contact, every criminal we have leverage on, use them all. I want Andrew found in the next six hours."

Agent Morrison appeared, dic in tow. "Mr. Roman, you’re injured—"

I looked down. Blood was seeping through my tactical vest where a bullet had grazed my side during the firefight. I hadn’t even felt it.

"I’m fine," I said. "Get Sylas. And activate Protocol Oga."

My people froze.

Ash pushed through the crowd, her face pale. "Kael, Protocol Oga is, "

"I don’t care." I t her eyes. "Activate it. Now."

Protocol Oga was our scorched earth contingency. No rules. No limits. Total war. We’d created it for worst-case scenarios where conventional thods had failed and the only option left was to burn everything down.

This qualified.

"Kael," Ash said quietly, "if we activate Oga, there’s no going back. Every criminal contact, every dirty cop, every favor we’ve ever been owed, we call them all in simultaneously. It’ll expose our entire network. The FBI will— "

"I. Don’t. Care." Each word was deliberate. Final. "Aria is out there. Hurt. Terrified. With a gun to her head. And I am going to get her back. Whatever it takes. Whoever I have to burn. However many bodies I have to stack."

I looked around the room, eting the eyes of every person there.

"Are we clear?"

Nods. Hesitant at first, then more certain.

They’d all seen the photo. Seen what had been done to her.

And they’d all heard my promise.

"Good." I holstered my weapon. "Let’s get to work. The clock is ticking."

As the room exploded into coordinated chaos, people making calls, pulling up databases, activating contacts, I stood there for one more mont, looking at Aria’s photo.

Hold on, I thought. Just hold on a little longer.

I’m coming for you.

And God help anyone who gets in my way.

...

The interrogation room slled like blood and fear.

The Los Fantasmas lieutenant was zip-tied to a chair, his face already a canvas of purple and red. Two of my n stood behind him, Hayes and Marcus, both forr special operations, both intimately familiar with the art of extracting information.

I stood in front of him, my hands surprisingly clean despite the violence.

"I’ll ask again," I said, my voice perfectly calm. "Where did they move her?"

"Fuck you," the man spat, blood spraying from his split lip.

I nodded to Hayes.

Hayes grabbed the man’s hand and bent his index finger back until it snapped.

The scream was satisfying in a distant, clinical way. Like hearing confirmation that a piece of equipnt was functioning properly.

"You have nine more fingers," I observed. "Then we move to toes. Then knees. Then elbows. I can keep you alive and in agony for hours before your body gives out."

I crouched down to et his eyes. "Or you can tell what I want to know, and I’ll make sure you get dical attention. Maybe even cut you a deal with the FBI."

His breathing was ragged, tears streaming down his face. "You’re, you’re fucking insane—"

"No." I shook my head slowly. "I’m motivated. There’s a difference."

Another nod to Hayes. Another finger.

Another scream.

"Secondary locations!" the man finally gasped out. "There are, there are three backup safe houses, "

"Addresses."

"I don’t, I don’t know all of them, "

"Then tell what you do know."

He did. Every word tumbling out between sobs and gasps of pain. Two addresses. Nas of contacts. Communication protocols.

When he was done, I stood. "Get him dical attention. Then hand him over to the FBI."

"Sir." Hayes moved to untie the man.

I walked out, already pulling out my phone to relay the information to Sylas.

...

Eighteen hours.

Eighteen hours since Andrew’s second call. Eighteen hours of non-stop work.

I hadn’t slept. Hadn’t eaten anything except protein bars soone kept forcing into my hands. The wound in my side had been cleaned and bandaged by a dic who’d threatened to sedate if I didn’t sit still for five minutes.

But I couldn’t stop. Wouldn’t stop.

Not while Aria was out there.

The command center looked like a war room. Maps covered every surface. Screens displayed satellite feeds. A digital countdown tir showed: 05:47:23 remaining until Andrew’s deadline.

Sylas looked up from his station as I approached.

"The addresses from your interrogation, I’ve cross-referenced them with known Los Fantasmas properties. One’s a warehouse we already cleared. But the other two are new."

He pulled up satellite imagery. "This one’s an abandoned textile factory on the south side. This one—" he zood in, ", is more interesting. A massive warehouse on the industrial strip, seemingly operational. But thermal imaging shows activity throughout."

My pulse quickened."How much activity?"

"Heat signatures for at least a dozen people.Generator running. Recent construction to reinforce the structure and secure the periter."

"That’s it."The certainty was bone-deep.

"That’s where she is."

Agent Morrison joined us,his face drawn with exhaustion. "Could be another trap. Los Fantasmas might’ve been feeding false intel to that lieutenant, knowing we’d torture it out of him eventually."

"It’s possible,"I conceded. "But we don’t have ti to verify. Andrew’s deadline is in less than six hours."

"So what do you want to do?"

I looked at the satellite image, the warehouse with its loading docks and multiple stories,a fortress hidden in plain sight.

"We go,"I said. "But this ti, we go prepared for war. Double the tactical teams. Bring explosive breaching charges. Heavy weapons. I want overwhelming force."

"That’s, "Morrison hesitated. "That’s going to cause significant damage. Could collapse floors, bring the whole structure down."

"Then we better get Aria out first."

He studied for a long mont."You really think she’s there."

"I know she is."I couldn’t explain it, so instinct, so connection to her that transcended logic. "And this ti, we’re not leaving until we find her."

Two hours later, we were mobile again.

But this convoy was different. Bigger. Heavier ard.

Forty vehicles. Over two hundred ard personnel.

Enough firepower to level a city block.

I sat in the lead vehicle again, but this ti I barely recognized myself in the reflection of the darkened window.

My eyes were cold. Empty. The eyes of soone who’d killed before and would kill again without hesitation.

Andrew had forced back into the only role I’d ever truly mastered.

And now, now I was going to do what I did best.

Hayes sat beside , checking his rifle for the third ti. "Sir, if this is another trap... "

"Then we spring it and kill everyone inside." My voice was matter-of-fact. "Either way, we’re getting answers."

He nodded slowly. "Rules of engagent?"

"Anyone ard dies. Anyone who doesn’t imdiately surrender dies. Anyone between us and Aria dies." I looked at him. "No prisoners this ti unless they have information we need. No rcy. No hesitation."

"Understood."

My phone buzzed. A text from Ash: Be careful. And rember who you’re doing this for.

I looked at Aria’s photo again, the one Andrew had sent. Her bruised face. The gun to her temple. The fear and defiance in her eyes.

I’m doing this for you, I thought. All of it. Every terrible thing I’m about to do.

Just hold on a little longer.

The convoy rolled through the night, a chanized river of violence heading toward one destination.

And when we got there, I was going to paint that warehouse red.

Andrew thought he was playing a ga. Thought he could negotiate, could use Aria as leverage, could force to choose between her and everything else.

He was wrong.

This stopped being a ga the second he touched her.

Now it was just war.

And I’d never lost a war.

The abandoned entrance ca into view, a boarded-up concrete structure covered in graffiti, surrounded by chain-link fence.

"All teams, prepare to breach," Hayes said into his radio.