Page 126 of Cassio (Belles & Mobsters 3)

Alessio knocked on the door. Waiting.

Quiet. No response. No movement. Nothing.

He knocked again and then followed up. “The Rose Rescue,” he shouted through the door.

Then we heard it. Grumbling. Feet against the door. The door swung open with an older man still in his boxers and gun in his hand.

His eyes roamed over us and locked on me. “Let me guess. Cassio King.”

* * *

“Are you sure this is it?”John asked for the hundredth time, grating my nerves. “It looks deserted.”

I chose to ignore him or risk just telling him off. The building was old, a fort with three corner towers built out of clay with certain sections crumbling. The place blended with the vast desert landscape around it. The temperature was rising as the hour advanced, and I knew eventually it would be scorching hot.

God, I hoped she was dressed warm when they took her. It clawed at me to think of her shivering at night, in the cold, in this rotten place. I couldn’t even fathom anything else happening to her, otherwise I’d lose my shit.

This whole place reminded me of the building I found Áine in years ago. It probably dated back to the tenth century. When we were done with it, it would be part of the history, blown up to pieces.

“All these damn places look deserted,” Luca muttered. “It is what makes them unnoticeable.”

“Okay, you got a point,” John admitted reluctantly. He pulled out a device out of his backpack and I watched him turn it on. I recognized it. It was a heat sensor to check for bodies in the compound. Not sure why he just didn't do that from the get go instead of blabbing away.

It took him a minute to set it up. Then I saw it, infrared bodies moving through the structure.Bingo!

If only there was a way to distinguish women from men and where Áine was.

“Shit,” one of Áine’s men muttered. Harry, if I remembered right. Or was it Pilot? What the fuck ever, it didn’t matter. “We are seriously outnumbered.”

Alessio, Luca, and I shared a glance. We knew it too. But waiting wasn’t an option. An hour could make a big difference in a single life. Áine’s life!

“We need to split up,” I told them. “Three groups, three wings of the compound. Save women and children, kill the guards and their soldiers, bring everyone back here.”

My eyes traveled over all the men to ensure they understood. Each one of them nodded.

“Sync up the watches,” I said. “Forty minutes. Our ride will be here, waiting for us.”

My only worry was whether the transportation would be big enough to accommodate enough victims. It was hard to tell whether there would be ten or fifty women. Split up three ways we proceeded into the compound; John and I ended up together heading towards the furthest part of the compound. We stuck to the shadows, taking advantage of the sun that wasn’t up yet.

Though it was close. The glimpses of the rising sun touched the sky far in the horizon.

We didn’t share any words, both of us on high alert. If I knew Marco, he’d keep Áine away from the other women. Cries echoed through the hallways, hitting me straight in the gut. It made my stomach churn.

A piercing man’s wail echoed along with them. I recognized it immediately. My heart twisted, like someone stabbed a knife into it, and I took off running without waiting for John.

As we ran down the rock corridor, a woman’s scream pierced through from the left and both of our steps faltered. It wasn’t Áine’s, but it was definitely a woman in distress.

“You go on,” John said, turning towards the door from which the scream came. “Get Áine and collect others on the way. We’ll meet outside as planned.”

I nodded and continued on. There was no time to waste. The stone walls were rough-cut and the chill seemed to linger in the air permanently. With each step, the cries became louder, and the only thing that kept my sanity was that the sounds belonged to a man. They weren’t Áine’s.

I got to the last door and looked through the small bar window. The scene that hit me was some gory stuff. A murder scene from a horror movie. And I’ve seen some shit.

Marco was sprawled on the dirt floor, his pants around his ankles, his dick discarded in the corner. There wasn’t a single part of him clean. Blood covered every inch of his skin and soaking his clothes.

His ears were missing too. A few of his fingers scattered around the dirt floor. Some other body parts that looked like flesh.

My eyes went to my wife. Her bloodied hands matched her red mane, clutching a knife soaked in blood. Marco’s blood! There was so much blood; I wasn’t sure how he was still alive.

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