Luca slides into the jeep and flaps the door shut. "Nailed it," he brags with a prideful grin.

"What did you get?" I urge, already too pissed by the Kingstons to have the same elation he's showing.

Those motherfuckers! I know this is their doing and this time I'm gonna screw them big time!

"The CCTV around the redhead's house is broken, which is hell weird," Luca replies while inserting a pendrive into his laptop. I huff impatiently. "But worry not, Bruh, 'cause we got a loose end. There was a dash cam from a breakdown truck parked in a neighbor's house. Apparently the old dude decided to fix it three days ago so the camera has been working that day."

"And?" I feel the sign of hope when Luca grins again. This rascal and his funny games! "Anything to prove that Mia didn't reach there?"

At least that can be helpful before catching the real killer, right?

"Not really," he answers. "But the kids stayed up all night and look what they found." Excited, he shows me some footage.

I grab the laptop to look closer. Eyes crinkled, I see a faint figure of a man taking off from Anne's house. It's behind the fence, but when he reaches the driveway, he appears fully, quickly putting on his helmet and drives away incognito.

"He looks like a pizza delivery guy." I gaze at Luca to ascertain.

"Yup. But apparently he's not a pizza dude." Luca takes out his phone. A frown deepens on my face. "Around this time the ambulance was at the redhead's house to get the body. This was caught from the driveway, which is adjacent to the front door where the entrance is."

"So . . . This guy was there at the moment the body was taken?" I flounder while staring at the photo on the phone.

"Name, Cliff. No home address found. He hangs around the Dragon Dungeon most of the time–-it's an underworld junction where fun and business is inseparable. Plenty of black transactions are made there. He's reputable in small merchandise delivery, quickly and secretly. Rumors have it that he's expanding into bigger deals nowadays, playing around with some drug syndicate operating internationally."

Now why would an underground courier deliver something to Anne's place after the day she was supposedly murdered? Not bad for a starter.

"Got his current location?" I ask Luca.

"Of course, Bruh. Told you we worked all night long, so you owe the kids some candy bars, just so you know," Luca states. Rolling my eyes, I lazily point a thumb at the backseat. "Woah! That looks fat!" He eyes the briefcase lustily.

1,000,000 USD. It should be enough.

"If Kenna gets the bail today, we are gonna pay right away. The rest you can keep," I say urgently. "Now take me to him."

"I was gonna! Buckle up!" Luca snaps cheerfully, making me release a deep sigh.

"Here." I hand his phone back, ready to drive, and another one buzzes from inside his jacket. "How many do you have?" Now I gotta ask.

"As many as needed. Let's get the show started, Bruh! I don't think Cliff will stay indoors for too long." Luca grins again.

Moments later we arrive at some large building in midtown. Deceivingly, it may look like a huge hotel, old and maybe abandoned, but when you walk in you'll be surprised by the sound of music blasting in the middle of the day and the number of people inside.

Is this even legal? My brows crease as I nearly topple over a young woman who looks dwindled from drugs, wearing a bra and shorts as if she's just pulled an all-night-long fiesta and in need of soup to snap the hangover out.

Good grief.

"Hey, hottie. Need some fun?" She lays her hands on my chest, barely holding her vision.

I shove them away as patiently as I can, and step forward through the dimly lit corridor. Luca laughs amusedly, and my lips harden repulsively. Music gets louder. I fucking hate noise. A few of years of bombs and guns have made me psychotically intolerant of any loud sounds.

We're about to stride in through the massive wooden doors when a giant bouncer stops us. He's possibly sniffed the scent of strangers in us, as places like these are usually swamped with regulars. I sigh softly and strain the fatal urge to retaliate. Can't draw any attention now.

"Your pass?" he snaps, staring down at us like a Goliath. His one arm is covered with black ink, a dragon tattoo artistically spread on his big muscles.

"We're here to meet Joe. We don't do membership and we're running out of time, big guy," Luca answers buoyantly, his chest shored up as if he's trying to intimidate the bouncer.

This guy! I sigh heavily.

The bouncer doesn't seem to buy the story. "Who the hell is Joe?" A heavy voice groans.

"You don't know him?" Luca barks, and I guess his plan has gone South. Just great! "Ah, I can't believe this. This motherfucker must have changed his name again." He starts laughing while skittling a hand through his hair.

The bouncer doesn't budge and maybe plan B is what we need.

"We're here to deliver an artifact and it's a limited time offer. You waste our seconds, we sell it to the Russians at the highest bid we can possibly get," I say flatly in a Russian accent that I've mastered to nearly perfection, my voice barren of emotions.

Catch the bait, fucker! We know the owner of this place is an art freak.

"Artifact you say?" The bouncer asks dubiously, staring at me with hooded eyes.

Instead of replying to his stupid query, I simply tell Luca, "Let's go. I hate doing business with amateurs."

As we turn around to leave, the bouncer suddenly snaps, "Wait!"

Bingo! I don't let my victory show, and for once Luca doesn't grin around.

"You can go in," says the bouncer, and a thin breath leaves my lungs. We don't waste time doing as required, but it doesn't take much longer until our luck shifts. "Hold on!" he stops us midway.

Frowning, I crane my neck and meet his eyes.

"Where is the artifact?" he quizzes while staring at us in turns.

Good question, big guy, but the answer is 'We got no fucking artifact'.

"Somewhere safe. Can't trust the slick Americans," I reply and it takes only two seconds until he's occupied by a new arrival, despite his lingering gaze on us.

"Nailed it!" Luca chirps in, and that annoying grin of his returns.

I order bourbon and pull a barstool. This better end well. A glass with amber liquid slides my way a few moments later, as I wait for Luca to snap me a sign that he's got the guy. It appears he knows this place a bit, probably has stepped foot once or twice.

Idly, I sip my drink, eyes calm yet cautious about any moving thing. Some kids smoking weed at the corner booth, a few chicks on their laps, and two stripers are pirouetting on the pole, wearing nothing but tiny thongs, kissing and touching seductively with eyes on any lone man.

Funny how some people shit around in the broad daylight. Who am I to judge? Slowly I learn there's a motel, tattoo parlor, bar and a club inside this place. It's a dungeon indeed, reeking of sin. You want some fun, you simply take it, as I see some horny dude grabbing one stripper's ass.

"More?" A voice interrupts.

Bartender. My glass is empty.

"Yeah." I nod to buy time.

Or not? A guy with a hoodie catches my attention. He scatters through the stairs—fleeing kind of motion—while throwing discreet glances to the sides. Same physique as our guy. My eyes crinkle as he walks past me, and my instincts urge me to stand up and chase.

"Raincheck." I stash a bill on the table, stopping the bartender from serving another glass.

I quickly follow the hoodie guy, a mobile on my ear, trying to reach Luca. He doesn't pick up so I speed up and flounce through the same door we used, and the bouncer gives me a creepy look that I pay no attention to.

When I reach outside the hoodie guy is in the parking lot trying to ignite his motorbike. With punctured tires, I bet it wouldn't move. Lucas's idea.

Smart Australian!

"Cliff?" I call loudly and he glances back over his shoulder.

He's definitely the guy.

"Fuck!" Seeing me, he groans and bolts out of the bike, landing on his mountain hikers, before storming toward the asphalt road across the street.

Damn! Not the marathon in the middle of the day!

I chase after him and he's quite a runner. Horns blares and tires screech as he crosses the road, miraculously dodging the SUV. Fuck! He lands on his knees, glances back at me as I jump over the taxi, ignoring the shouts of the drivers cussing at us.

We race across the street and he's a bloody runner. But I'm not a damn quitter!

At the corner of the first building he jumps over the railings, bumping on the trash bins, and then flees toward a dusty alley. I do the same, holding a few meters of distance from him. He grunts again but I don't let him escape. You're the only key to free Mia, so I own you motherfucker!

With that I bolt and land him a high kick on the back. He staggers toward the brick wall and grouches in pain. Quickly he recovers and tries to decamp, but I pin him tightly, twisting his arms behind so he doesn't make a slight move. His body writhes but no freedom finds him.

"Who are you? What the fuck do you want?" he growls like a beast in a cage, even though he's tiny and slick.

Perfect body for his job.

"You and I are gonna have a little chat," I utter in a stern voice, and in a second I see the jeep pulling over hastily.

Oh, he's finally here!

Luca breezes out with a bleeding arm. "You stinky rat!" he snaps angrily at Cliff, who laughs comically in return.

Now I understand what happened inside there. I let Luca have his little revenge before we drag Cliff inside the jeep.

***

Confined in a chair, hands tied up in the back, legs bonded together, Cliff pants like an exhausted athlete after several laps on the football ground. Blood drips from his nose, a few bruises that don't look as serious as the urge for me to get some valuable info from him.

Lifting his face, he meets mine. Faltered a bit, he casts his gaze away as I slowly take a stride toward him. Silence prevails and my steps halt when I stand behind him. I smell his fear, too busy trying to figure out what I'm gonna do with him.

Yes, sonofabitch, you gotta be scared!

I know how it feels being held up with restraints, unable to budge a muscle. Agonizing when it's too silent, and freaky when a slight move is made: let it be a footstep, a crawl of some crude tool, or a cock of a loaded gun by the opponent.

Next to me there's a desk with a laptop, a few papers, and a very sharp pencil. My hand mops the wooden surface as I walk toward Cliff, hoping to hold my anger incheck. He's breathing runs more erratically the more my footsteps echo through the rough concrete.

"You got a family?" I ask him flatly.

"No, why?" Voice groggy, he's feeling the stench of some beating Luca gave him during the interrogation that has borne no results so far.

I sigh softly. "Then you wouldn't understand what you've done and I'm giving you the chance to fix it, or else I'll make you feel exactly what I'm feeling!"

"Fuck, I said I don't know anything! I don't know who the fuck Anne is and I don't care-"

Wrong answer!

Defectively, I grab a pencil from the table and hit it on his neck. He yowls loudly and I hold my stab. A perfect target. I've hit exactly what I wanted to hit. His carotid artery. His body freezes in a startled manner and he doesn't dare to move.

"You know what happens when I pull this out?" I whisper in his ear. He just breathes, head tipped to one side. "You'll be down in just one fucking minute. And no one can save you."

"Don't do this," he rasps.

"Only if you answer my questions without playing tricks. You don't have much time so you better be quick," I state.

His breath becomes his assent.

Luca broadens his eyes as he veers back in, holding two bottles of water. We're inside his home garage. I've had some killings during my time at the Corps but I no longer fancy the scent of fresh blood dripping from anyone's body.

"What did you deliver at Anne's that day?" I inquire, attention back to Cliff.

"I-I don't know what it was, I swear. My only job is picking and dropping, no questions asked!" he snaps desperately.

Luca laughs wickedly. "So you can carry a timed bomb and you wouldn't even know?"

Cliff manages to gaze at him. "It's the risk I'm willing to take. It's my fucking job."

I keep pressing the pencil. "What was it? Who sent you? And to whom did you deliver it?"

"It was a box! Like a medical box but I don't know what was inside," he replies, and I detect no lies so far. "I was instructed to leave it at the back door. Police, forensics, they were all there so I did my job and left. I don't know anything!"

A medical box during the same moment the forensics were at the crime scene? That's intriguing.

"Who sent you?" I repeat my question.

"I don't know." His breath quickens. My muscles flex and as I move he immediately adds, "I got a call, probably from a burner phone. Someone told me to fetch the box from the subway station, gave me the address to deliver, and paid me in cash. Never met him, don't know him!"

Taking in the information, I lock eyes with Luca. He's as confused as I am, shrugging his shoulders. No, I need more. This won't get me anywhere.

"In that case, you're useless to me!" I snap at Cliff and try to pull the pencil out of his neck.

"Wait!" he snaps briskly and my hand stills. A heavy breath dances in his chest as relief soars through him. "Someone else was supposed to deliver that good but a mishap happened so he referred it to me. He's a top notch. I'm sure he knows more. He always do."

Again I stare at Luca and he gives me a stiff nod. My dark eyes are back at Cliff, but I don't utter a word. His pulse accelerates, vein throbbing in his neck.

"I can make a contact. Right now!" he adds pleadingly, and it's all that I needed to hear.

_______________________________

A/N: Never written action scenes before so I'm very conflicted about this chapter. Constructive criticism is allowed as I'm here to learn too. Tell me if it's too much.