By the time I arrived, the sun had almost set. The abandoned building which 93 had prescribed me to come and meet him, alone, was nearly a mile away from the main road that connects San Antonio and Houston. The place seemed deserted. The only glimmer of light came from a flashlight, which was tethered to a nearby tree with ropes. I scanned the area around me, trying to spot any signs of movement or danger. But everything was still and silent, except for the sound of my own labored breathing.

Suddenly, a rustling in the bushes caught my attention. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I strained to listen for any more sounds of movement. Finally, I heard footsteps in the distance, and my heart began to race. It had to be them, but as the footsteps grew louder, I realized that there were more than two people approaching. There were more of them than I had anticipated. Someone cleared their throat with such force that I wondered if the sound could carry all the way to San Antonio. My pulse quickened as the voices drew nearer, and I tensed up, ready for whatever was about to happen.

"Mrs Sara Dutch," a voice said from behind me, causing me to jump. "See, I said it correctly this time." The voice was deep and gravelly.

I whirled around, my hand reaching for my weapon. But before I could react, someone grabbed me from behind, their grip like iron around my chest. I gasped for air, my ribs aching with the pressure. I tried to struggle free, but the grip on me was too strong.

I couldn't understand why Smith and the others weren't here yet. Had something gone wrong? Had they been discovered? My mind raced with questions, but I couldn't find any answers as the grip around me tightened even more, knocking the air out of my lungs. Confusion and frustration gripped me as I struggled to make sense of the situation. We had planned this operation meticulously, with Officer Smith promising to have our backs if things went south. But now, as I stood there, alone and vulnerable, it seemed as though our plan had fallen apart.

"Looking for your saviour Mr Smith, Mrs Dutch? What possibly can that old dog do to stop me? Who is he to stop me bitch.. hah ha ha ha haaaa..."

And then, suddenly, something slammed into my head with incredible force. My vision swam, and I felt my body go limp as I crumpled to the ground.

Darkness swallowed me whole, and I was lost in its depths.

Time seemed to stretch out as I lay there, my head pounding with pain. I tried to make sense of what was happening. How come it to ne this? What did just happen? Why Mr Smith nor Ray has come yet? My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching and I suddenly felt a warm presence beside me.

"Sara? Sara, are you there?" It was Leon's voice, and I felt a rush of relief flood through me. He had come to find me, just like he promised.

I managed to lift my head to see him running towards me, a look of concern etched on his face. He quickly untied me from the pole and helped me to my feet.

"We have to get out of here," he said urgently. "They might come back."

We stumbled out of the building and into the night air, our hearts pounding with fear. We had managed to escape with only a few scratches, but we both knew that we had narrowly avoided something much worse.

"Why would you do this Sara? Why wouldn't you listen to me?" Leon hugged me tight as we crouched down near a stumbled wall, panting.

When I tried to speak I was cut off by the sound of approaching sirens. Leon breathed a sigh of relief and we collapsed on the chipped cement ground watching as the flashing lights of the police cars drew nearer practically flashing on us and blinding me temporarily.

I blinked several times and when I finally slowly opened them again I was in an empty hall. The flashing lights of police cars from before slowly contoured into the flash lights illuminating the room.

"Wake up girl. We got a lot to do.."

The pain in my head was excruciating, and I could feel warm blood trickling down my face. My hair was sticking to the dried blood, making it impossible to see properly. I struggled to free my hands from the tight knots, but they were tied too tightly around the cold iron pole.

As I looked around, I realized that I was in an empty hall. The walls were covered with peeling paint, and the floor was made of rough concrete. There was no window, and the only source of light was a dim bulb that hung from the ceiling. The air was thick with the smell of mold and mildew, making it difficult to breathe.

I turned my head to see 93 standing in front of me. He looked drunk and the place reeked of alcohol and damp.

"See Mrs Dutch..you got some paperwork to do.." Coming forward so he was standing only a feet apart me he wiggled a plastic file in front of my eyes, the few printed sheets in it holding hard from flying out.

"What paperwork?" I asked, confused as I resumed struggling against the ropes, gritting my teeth as I cope with with stinge on my wrists as I did. He was clearly out of his mind. I looked around and saw his disciple Pigman standing in the corner. He looked just as dangerous as his master.

"Bring her here," the man ordered. I tried to muster up the strength to fight back, but my body wouldn't cooperate. I was completely at his mercy, and I knew that I had to come up with a plan if I wanted to survive.

A tall, burly man untied me and dragged me to the desk where the man was sitting. I tried to run, but my legs felt numb and weak. I couldn't even feel them properly. I collapsed in front of him. I felt like I was losing control of my body, maybe because I had been hit on the head or they had poisoned me.

I needed to get out of there. I couldn't die before getting justice for Leon. I couldn't let his death be in vain. I had to find a way to escape and finish what he had started. But the man seemed to sense my thoughts, and he chuckled darkly. He leaned forward, his eyes piercing into mine. "Don't even think about it," he said. "You're not going anywhere until we're done with you."

"Mrs Sara Jane Dutch, the beloved fiancé of former agent Leon Dutch, was drinking out of depression after her husband's untimely death, in an abandoned building in Houston has fallen to her doom! What a great article would that title make for the newspaper you work!" he said, laughing like a maniac.

"Let me go you bloody rascal."

"Not so soon, Sara. We have some unfinished business to attend to." He replied, smirking. "Your beloved fiancé, late Mr Dutch owes a lot to me, you know..."

"He owes to you?!" I shouted, my anger rising. "You son of a bitch! How dare you! You betrayed your cousin and got teamed up with a murderer and killed him. You killed my Leon too. You ungrateful fvcker."

"Money kills..Money heals baby. Gone is gone. and do I even regret it? But wait.. What about this...Let's start from the beginning. Together. You and me. Maybe we can let that newspaper guy that you raise to be your lapdog join us too." He rambled on and on, but I couldn't make sense of what he was saying.