CHAPTER 17
Rick's POV
The car ride to ArtiQues was wrapped in an unusual silence, each passing moment echoing the weight of the recent events. As we entered the gallery, Avery's eyes widened with a mix of amazement and curiosity, scanning the sophisticated surroundings.
Ignoring the gallery's patrons, I navigated through the pristine displays, heading straight to the concealed office tucked away in a distant corner. Holding the door open for Avery, I caught the confusion etched on her face. She stepped into the room, and as I followed, the door clicked shut behind us, sealing off the outside world.
Moving towards a bookshelf, I subtly revealed the facial recognition lock. The system beeped, confirming my identity, and the hidden door unlatched with a soft hiss. Avery stood frozen, the shock evident in her expression, as she witnessed the unveiling of this covert layer within ArtiQues.
"Welcome to the inner sanctum," I remarked.
Avery's gaze darted around the room, taking in the high-tech equipment, monitors displaying intricate patterns of data, and the team of operatives who greeted me with nods and acknowledgement.
Fred, George, and seven other skilled operatives were stationed in the room, each immersed in their tasks. Fred, with his signature glasses and a perpetually focused expression, approached us.
"Rick, good to see you. We've got updates on the Russian guy."
Fred turned his attention to Avery, offering a friendly smile.
"Hi there, Avery. Welcome to our sanctum. Since you are the only outsider who has entered this place in the last 10 years, I guess you are a part of the team now, and this is where the real work happens."
Avery, still grappling with the revelation, managed a nod.
"Real work indeed," she muttered under her breath, her eyes darting between the operatives and the intricacies of the room.
Fred, ever efficient, seamlessly transitioned to business.
"Rick, your guesses were right. The guy we caught is named Ivan Petrov. Linked to several criminal organizations, including Krovsvyaz. We're in the process of extracting intel."
"Krovsvyaz...," I repeated it under my breath, a tense knot forming in my stomach. A name that stirs the murky depths, where shadows linger and mysteries unfold.
I nodded in acknowledgement, my mind already shifting gears to assimilate the latest developments.
"Good. Did he spill anything about Sergei then?" I inquired, my voice carrying an undertone of authority.
George, sipping his coffee with a nonchalant demeanour, chimed in, "No, he still hasn't opened his mouth yet. We found his identity after running several trials using FRT. His facial identity matched, and we figured out he's one of the most wanted from 13 other countries since he joined Krovsvyaz."
"Well, let's see whether he's willing to open his mouth now or not," I retorted with a dominating, icy edge, my strides towards the interrogation room exuding controlled aggression.
Upon entering, I found Ivan handcuffed to the metal table. Sitting across from him, I leaned in, staring into his eyes with a deadly glare.
"So, you are working for Sergei. Why does he want Avery?"
A cold, eerie laughter emanated from Ivan's mouth. His face contorted in anger and he snarled a series of Russian curses, the vulgar words punctuating the tense air, "Ty ne ponimaesh', chto tebe grozit, ublyudok". (You don't understand what's in store for you, motherfucker.)
With disdain in his eyes, he spat towards me, the saliva landing on the table. Rising calmly, I walked towards him with deliberate steps, a controlled intensity in my demeanour. Once within striking distance, I unleashed a powerful punch to his nose, blood gushing out instantly.
Ignoring his wince, I moved behind him, forcefully shoving his face onto the cold metal table, I demanded, my tone unwavering, "Don't make me repeat. Why does he want Avery?"
Silence lingered, intensifying my fury. Shifting to the side of the table, I seized Ivan's hand, caressing his fingers while coldly stating, "So, you won't talk. It seems the frost in your words requires the heat of persuasion."
My grip tightened on two of his fingers, bending them backwards until they audibly cracked, eliciting a cry of pain.
Ivan, writhing in agony, finally spoke, his voice shaking, "I have no idea. All I know is that he wants her. He sent me to get her."
I nodded, indicating I expected more. I gripped another finger of his, attempting to bend it and Ivan screamed, "Trust me. I'm telling the truth. I seriously don't know why he wants her."
I released his finger, tilting up his face and glaring into his eyes, maintaining my cold demeanour as I straightened up.
"Well, I guess at least you know what happened to Maria, then?"
Ivan, continued speaking, his voice still trembling in pain, "Sergei killed her. I just know that they know each other, but I don't know how."
I patted Ivan's cheek with a dark smirk, a twisted satisfaction creeping across my face. Retrieving the gun discreetly tucked in my socks, hidden beneath my pants, I taunted him, "You know what, Ivan? You've been a good boy, but unfortunately, fate has written your death on my hands."
Unlocking the safety of my gun, I pointed it menacingly at Ivan's trembling head. His pleas for mercy echoed in the room, a feeble attempt to escape the imminent. Fred and George, witnessing the unfolding horror through the one-way mirror, burst into the room in a desperate bid to stop me.
However, I pulled the trigger before they could intervene. The metallic clang of the gunshot echoed through the room as blood splattered from Ivan's head, his face colliding with the cold metal table in a sickening thud.
George's voice rose in shock and anger, "Are you fucking crazy, man? Why did you do that?"
"We don't need him anymore. He's just another dog who works for Sergei," I responded coldly.
Leaving the interrogation room, I halted in my tracks as I noticed Avery standing in front of the one-way mirror. Her gaze held a mixture of complete shock and frozen disbelief. Without sparing a word or a second glance, I continued my purposeful stride toward the other operatives, immersed in extracting information about Sergei's elusive whereabouts.
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Avery's POV
The eerie silence enveloped the sanctum as I stood frozen in front of the one-way mirror. Fred and George's commentaries echoed in my ears, their reactions ranging from shock to dark humour as Rick interrogated the man with brutal efficiency.
When Rick patted the guy's cheek, Fred remarked, "Why the fuck am I romanticizing this?"
George chuckled, and the next moment, they rushed into the room to stop Rick who was pointing his gun at Ivan. The gunshot resounded, and my breath caught as I witnessed the lifeless body hitting the cold metal table.
I couldn't blink before the scene changed. George's shouts echoed as Rick walked out, his stern expression unwavering as he strode past me. It was as if nothing had happened. I never expected this side of Rick, even though I knew he could be rude and cold.
Hours passed in profound silence, broken only by the sounds of keyboards and mouse clicks. Sitting beside Fred and George, I couldn't help but steal glances at Rick, typing vigorously on the keyboard, immersed in his tasks.
His sharp jawlines spoke of resolute determination, etching a profile of unwavering strength. The pursed pink lips, usually delivering commands or assertive remarks, held a certain allure, adding an unexpected touch to his commanding presence. Furrowed eyebrows subtly signalled frustration or concern, intensifying the focus that radiated from him.
His eyes, a captivating shade of grey, seemed to hold a universe of experiences. They acted like windows, offering glimpses into a depth beyond the immediate circumstances. The cool, steel-like hue of his gaze, set against the warmth and intensity of the room, added an intriguing layer to his enigmatic persona.
Even the play of light on his slightly messy hair contributed to a touch of rugged charm, a stark contrast to the meticulous precision with which he operated in the field. Each seemingly mundane feature wove together to create a composite of a man who commanded authority, control, and an unexpected magnetism, leaving an indelible impression in the sanctum's hushed ambience.
Bryce's entrance into the sanctum disrupted the lingering silence, his loud whistle grabbing everyone's attention. Rick, engrossed in his work, immediately looked up, catching me in the act of gazing at him. Startled, I quickly averted my eyes towards Bryce. His boisterous presence cut through the unusual atmosphere.
"Did someone drop a bomb here? Why is everyone so quiet like someone just died?" Bryce, breaking the quiet with his characteristic humour, asked.
Fred, responded with a wry smile, "Indeed."
Confused, Bryce turned to me, expecting some clarification. However, before I could utter a word, Rick's authoritative call summoned Bryce to his table. Bryce complied, settling into a chair across from Rick. Their deep conversation unfolded, and I remained an observer.
For a while, they engaged in intense discussion. Suddenly, Bryce's voice pierced through the room, exclaiming, "You did what? You are fucking crazy, is it?"
Rick responded with a retort, his deathly glare sharp enough to silence Bryce. Unfortunately, the specifics of their exchange remains a mystery to me.
Amid this unfolding drama, Will, an operative I had recently been introduced to, approached with a cup of coffee in hand.
"You just look so tired. So, I made some coffee for you," he said, offering the cup.
I accepted it gratefully, the warmth of the ceramic contrasting with the cool ambiance of the room.
"Tough day, huh?" he observed.
I nodded in agreement, and he continued, "Well, if you ever need a break from the madness, I'm here."
I felt a blush rising, not just from his words but from the playful smirk that accompanied them.
"Thanks, Will. That's sweet of you," I replied, trying to play it cool.
Will's charming grin persisted, and he responded with a wink.
"Sweet? Nah, just an observant guy." His tone hinted at something more, and I felt a tinge of nervousness.
He leaned in a bit, lowering his tone to a more intimate level.
"You know, Avery, your beauty hasn't gone unnoticed. Your presence adds a touch of allure to this otherwise monotonous sanctum."
Caught off guard by his audacious remarks, I chuckled nervously. "Oh, really? I don't see how."
Will's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Well, let's just say your beauty is quite the conversation starter."
Blushing furiously, I attempted to steer the conversation away.
"Beauty? I think you might be exaggerating a bit."
Undeterred, Will leaned in a bit closer, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.
"Avery, my dear, I've been around enough to recognise when something stands out. And you? You stand out in the best possible way."
Feeling a bit uneasy with the flirtatious turn of the conversation, I fumbled for words.
"Well, you know, I'm here to help with Maria's case. By the way, any updates on Sergei?"
Will's grin widened, clearly enjoying the playful banter.
"As for Sergei, well, we'll have to uncover those secrets together won't we?"
"Cut the nonsense, Will. Save it for someone who cares. Focus on the job," Rick's voice, cold and cutting, sliced through the air out of nowhere.
Startled by Rick's sudden appearance, I shifted my gaze from Will back to Rick. Will, without uttering a single word, retreated to his table, an unspoken understanding of not getting on Rick's bad side lingering in the air.
Caught in the awkward aftermath, I watched as Rick walked away. His cold eyes met mine for a moment, and the atmosphere grew tenser. Without waiting for any acknowledgement, Rick ordered, "Follow me."
I glanced back at Fred and George, who observed the scene with raised eyebrows, and then quietly followed Rick. As we entered the gallery's office, Rick held the door for me, and it closed, seamlessly blending into the bookshelf.
"We are going out for lunch," Rick declared abruptly, his tone brooking no argument. Without waiting for my response, he walked out, leaving me to trail behind him.
The restaurant buzzed with activity as Rick and I found ourselves at a table by the window. The place was a mix of modern and elegant, with cool tones and cosy décor that made it a popular spot for lunch.
We settled into our seats, and as I glanced around, I couldn't help but notice the lively chatter of other diners, the clinking of cutlery, and the tantalizing aroma of various dishes wafting through the air. The atmosphere was vibrant, and the hum of conversations created a lively backdrop.
However, the scene took an unexpected turn when a young waitress appeared. Her eyes were fixed on Rick, and her approach seemed more flirtatious than professional.
"What would you like to have, sir?" she inquired, her tone dripping with a hint of seduction.
I couldn't help but notice her attempt to showcase more than just the menu as she provocatively opened a few buttons on her dress.
Rick, unfazed by the attention, calmly began placing his order, "One Turkey and Ham salad."
The waitress, however, seemed more interested in ogling at him, biting her pen with a suggestive air.
"Is that only, sir?" she asked, lowering herself towards Rick, who maintained his composure.
"No, one spinach fettuccine, please," I interjected with a firm voice. My gaze bore into her until she retreated, leaving our table with a forced smile.
Noticing my assertiveness, Rick glanced at me with a raised eyebrow, subtly acknowledging my intervention. I offered him a casual smile in an attempt to play off the encounter. Rick, however, caught my subtle unease and responded with a knowing smirk.
To stop Rick's smirk, I decided to steer the conversation towards Sergei. "How did you already suspect Sergei's involvement in Maria's case?"
Rick looked at me, his eyes revealing a depth of seriousness.
"I spotted Sergei in the office tower footage on the day Maria died. His sudden reappearance after a long disappearance coincided with a brutal death at the same location. That's why I suspected his involvement in Maria's case."
I nodded.
"Now, it's confirmed he's the one who murdered her, and they had a history," Rick added, his tone indicating a grim reality.
I couldn't help but feel a shiver down my spine. "Is that why you asked me and Sophia about him?" I asked, seeking more clarity.
Rick nodded.
"Sergei leads Krovsvyaz, a notorious Russian mob known for chaos. You need to be more cautious now, as it's evident he's after you. We must stay ahead. But our priority is uncovering the link between him and Maria to understand why he's targeting you."
A sense of fear crept over me as the weight of the situation sank in. Sergei, the notorious leader of a Russian mob, was after me, and we needed answers.
As Rick continued to explain the gravity of the situation, my mind raced with thoughts of Maria, Sergei, and the looming danger. Suddenly, in the midst of our conversation, my eyes fixed on something across the restaurant. Shock painted my face, and without thinking, I abruptly got up and started running out of the restaurant, leaving Rick startled at my sudden departure.
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