Page 45 of Guardian
“I’m fine.Talk to me about the search and rescue in Mexico.”
Zed staggers to his feet, breath heavy.Maybe I’m not the only one struggling today.We’ve been going for about half an hour, which is typically nothing for us.
“Yeah, about that.Sal called in while you were running some errand the other day.”
The errand was ambushing Ravi outside of his morning class.
“And?”
He takes a swig from his water bottle.“It’s not good news.”
“Shit.”I slam my fists together.Which is as unsatisfying as it is painful.“Why is this the first I’m hearing about it?”
My friend puts his hands to his hips.“Because you’re a loose fucking cannon lately and nobody wants to come anywhere near you.”
A harsh breath punches its way out of my lungs.“What happened?”
“The guys were a little too late.They found where the prisoners had been kept, but the kidnappers were long gone.Tourists.Some local teenagers.Bodies in a shallow grave.”
I drop my head back onto my shoulders.A strangled “Fuuuuuck!”works its way out of my throat.“Fucking pieces of shit.”
Across the room from where we’re sparring is an old heavy bag hanging from the ceiling.I storm over to it, beating the thing and shouting until my body burns and my voice is hoarse.“Fucking piece of shit motherfuckers.”
One of the uglier things we deal with in this business is kidnapping for profit.These gangs pull people off the street, often young people, demand a ransom, and then when the family pays they kill them anyway.It’s not uncommon for our company to get hired to go in and find the person taken, especially if it’s a tourist whose family has the cash.Sometimes we find them in time.Sometimes we don’t.When the kidnappers know to keep moving and they’ve got the home turf advantage, the odds are against us.
We all know this shit happens.Knowing it doesn’t help.Especially now.
Teenagers in a shallow grave.Fuck.I swallow bile, unable to keep Ravi’s face out of my mind.The wrong buyer gets him from this auction, and something like that could happen to him.Or something worse.
The water in my water bottle is warm and barely eases my burning throat.“How’s Sal holding up?”
Sal came to work for us because his sister was one of the many people lost to this kind of racket.When the police weren’t able to do anything, his mother took up the mantle of vigilante, hunting the men responsible and having them killed or arrested.The gang, in return, murdered his parents.An entire family lost due to greed.
“He’s seeing the company therapist as required in these situations.Tell you one thing, he’s handling it better than whatever the hell this is.”Zed motions up and down in my general direction.“Sal’s not the only one who would benefit from a few visits with Doc Lambert.”
Fuck him.I don’t have time for that shit.“You ready to go again, or are you done for the day?”
Zed laughs.“You implying I’m weak, motherfucker?”
No, I’m trying to distract you from the fact that I am.
“You know better than to ask me something like that,” my friend growls.
We return to the mat.Zed takes up a stance and charges me again.When we fight there aren’t too many rules.We try not to do permanent damage, but since an escaping drug dealer won’t adhere to rules, neither do we.
Which is why, when he manages to get me on my back, I sink my teeth into his arm.
“You actual piece of shit.”He growls.
My laugh is a little maniacal as I flip him again.And clock him in the jaw.That’s going to swell later.
“Who’s the piece of shit?”
His answer is a battle cry as he bucks his hips hard enough to throw me off.I’d be impressed if I had time to be, but he doesn’t waste a second before barreling toward me again.Before he can make contact, I slip to the side.And when he’s recovering from the first punch, I throw another punch, and then another.
He doubles over with a grunt.Blindly, he gropes around for the water bottle he left on the edge of the mat, using it to swish around his mouth.
When he spits it out, there’s blood.
