Chapter 6 Smoke And Teeth

• The safehouse was a two-room shack buried in the outskirts of Durango, forgotten by time and surrounded by rusted fences and the smell of scorched earth. Valentina sat on a lopsided cot, her fingers clenched around a cracked ceramic mug of bitter coffee. The rifle leaned against the wall, always within reach. Hector stood by the boarded-up window, watching the empty road as though it might grow teeth.
• "They won’t stop," he said without turning. "You know that, right? They’ll keep sending men until either you’re dead or you give them the files."
• Valentina didn’t respond. She was thinking of Dante, of his bloodied face, of the chains biting into his wrists, of the way he’d still found the strength to shield her with his body.
• "We go tonight," she said. "Through the back roads. We hit the Zapatos stash house. That’s where they’ll keep him. They want him alive, but just barely."
• Hector turned then, his eyes sharp. "You’re not ready."
• "Neither was my mother," Valentina said, her voice like gravel. "And she still fought."
• He didn’t argue after that.
• The van reeked of oil and fear. Hector drove with both hands on the wheel, his jaw clenched. Valentina sat in the back, checking her pistol again and again. Four magazines. One knife. A map taped to the inside of her forearm. They would be inside the Zapatos compound in less than twenty minutes.
• "What if he’s not there?" she asked.
• "Then we burn the place down anyway. Make noise. Make them bleed."
• It was past midnight when they reached the outskirts of the compound—a gated villa surrounded by armed men and stone walls. The security was tight but predictable.
• They slipped in through a broken sewage tunnel, just wide enough to crawl through. The stink clung to their skin, but neither of them spoke.
• Inside, the hallway was quiet. Too quiet.
• Hector held up two fingers, motioning left. Valentina nodded. She moved silently, her footsteps cushioned by instinct and adrenaline. The door at the end of the hall was slightly ajar. A light flickered inside.
• She pushed it open.
• Dante.
• He was chained to a radiator, slumped over, blood matting his shirt. His face was a mess of bruises. But he was alive.
• She rushed to him. "Dante. It’s me. I’m getting you out."
• He blinked, dazed. "Valen... you shouldn’t have come."
• "You think I’d leave you here to die?" she snapped, pulling a bolt cutter from her pack. "I owe you more than that."
• The chain clattered to the ground. Dante groaned, collapsing into her arms.
• Then the alarm blared.
• "Hector!" she shouted.
• Gunfire erupted down the hall.
• Dante gritted his teeth and forced himself upright. "Can you still shoot?"
• "Better than ever."
• He smirked, blood on his teeth. "Then let’s give them hell."
• The hallway became a killing ground. Hector covered the rear, his rifle barking in rhythm. Valentina led Dante forward, each step a battle.
• One of the guards charged. Valentina dropped him with a shot to the chest. Another lunged from the shadows—Dante stabbed him with a broken pipe.
• They reached the loading bay just as backup poured in from the main gate. Pickup trucks screeched to a halt. Shouts filled the night.
• Valentina raised her rifle.
• Then the building exploded.
• Concrete rained from the ceiling. A wall collapsed. Flames licked the sky.
• "They rigged it," Dante said. "They’d rather torch it than let us win."
• Valentina grabbed his arm. "Move!"
• Smoke swallowed them as they stumbled into the dark. Bullets zipped past, men screamed, and sirens echoed in the distance.
• But they didn’t stop running.
• At dawn, they reached an abandoned warehouse on the edge of the city. Safe—for now.
• Dante sat against a crate, blood crusted on his temple. "You’re insane."
• Valentina dropped beside him. "You’d do the same."
• He stared at her, the heat between them rising through the pain. "This isn’t over."
• "No," she said, loading a fresh magazine. "It’s just the start."
• From outside, the faint echo of tires on gravel. A new enemy, or the next move in the war?
• Valentina raised her gun and stood. "Let them come."