C45 Change Of Plans

The air inside the warehouse was thick and damp, carrying the sour scent of mildew and rust.

A faint draft crept through the cracked walls, its icy tendrils licking at the exposed skin of Angelo and his men as they followed their guides deeper into the winding passage.

Shadows from flickering overhead lights danced on the walls, creating a sinister backdrop to the tense silence.

“Here we are,” one of the men muttered in a rough voice as he gestured to a heavy steel door.

The hinges screeched in protest as he yanked it open.

Angelo stepped inside, his boots scuffing against the grimy concrete floor.

His sharp eyes swept over the group of children huddled together in the corner.

They were thin, filthy, and trembling.

Their wide eyes darted toward the intruders with a mixture of fear and hopelessness.

The faint sound of sniffles and shallow breathing echoed faintly, broken only by the occasional muffled sob.

But then the girl caught Angelo’s attention immediately.

She sat in front of the group, her small arms wrapped protectively around two younger children pressed tightly to her sides.

Her emerald-green eyes were dulled by exhaustion but still they burned with defiance as they locked onto Angelo with startling intensity.

Even in her ragged state, she looked like she wouldn’t mind tearing Angelo from limb to limb.

“Feisty one, isn’t she?” one of the guards sneered behind Angelo. “Bet she’d be fun to break. Of course, we didn’t want to ruin them for you. So, you get to have all the fun.”

Angelo’s fingers twitched at his side, his self-control stretched thin.

He wanted nothing more than to silence the man permanently, but he forced his features into a mask of disinterest.

The mission came first.

He stepped closer to the group of children, keeping his gaze neutral as if assessing livestock.

The girl’s defiance didn’t waver.

If anything, her small frame seemed to tense further, her chin lifting ever so slightly as though daring him to make a move.

Angelo almost smirked at her spirit.

She didn’t look exactly the same as the grainy photo they had retrieved from Stoneraine, but there was no mistaking her identity.

This was Cathy Whitaker, alright. Apart from the hair color, she could have easily been passed for a younger Annabelle.

“Not much to look at,” Angelo said dismissively, gesturing for his men to bring the cash forward.

The guards grunted, eager to see the money.

His man handed over the briefcase, the lid popping open to reveal neatly stacked bills. The guards’ eyes lit up greedily.

“I'll take them,” Angelo said, his voice cold.

Two of his men stepped forward, guiding the children out in small groups.

Cathy clung to the younger ones at her side, her wide eyes scanning the room as if memorising every face, every exit.

Angelo deliberately avoided paying her much attention.

She seemed to study him anyway, her narrowed eyes filled with distrust.

One of the guards chuckled, oblivious to the razor's edge he was walking. “She’s a fighter, huh? Makes it more fun when they scream.”

Angelo’s teeth ground together, but his face remained impassive.

He allowed the children to be led out, ensuring their safety first. Then, with deliberate calmness, he turned back to the guards.

“Now,” he said, his tone icy, “I’ll be taking the money back.”

The guards froze, their confusion evident. “What the hell are you talking about?” one spat.

Angelo shrugged, his demeanor almost casual. “Call it a change of plans.”

The first guard’s hand darted toward his weapon, but Angelo was faster.

In one fluid motion, he pulled his gun and fired. The silencer-fitted gun made no more than a pop sound as a hole appeared in the guard’s forehead.

The man crumpled to the ground, his eyes wide with shock.

Chaos erupted as the remaining guards scrambled for their weapons, shooting desperately as the deafening sounds of their guns resounded through the warehouse.

Still, they were no match for Angelo’s team.

It was over in seconds.

The warehouse fell silent once more, the acrid scent of gunpowder mingling with the stench of blood.

Angelo holstered his weapon, his expression as calm as if he’d just concluded a business transaction.

He stepped over the bodies while his men cleaned up behind him.

Dante’s orders had been clear.

None of the bastards were to walk away alive.

*********

Outside, the cold night air was a stark contrast to the suffocating tension inside the car. Annabelle sat stiffly in the passenger seat, her hands gripping the armrest as if bracing for impact.

The faint hum of the heater did little to warm her, as her anxiety chilled her to the bone.

Dante sat beside her, his dark eyes scanning the warehouse’s entrance.

His hand rested on hers, firm yet gentle, as if silently reminding her to stay grounded.

“Why is it taking so long?” she whispered, her voice cracking.

“It takes as long as it needs to,” Dante replied, his tone measured.

“But what if something…”

“Annabelle.” Dante’s voice softened, but his gaze was unwavering. “They’ll get her out. I gave you my word.”

Annabelle’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

The desperation in her gaze tugged at something deep within Dante, and before he realised it, his thumb was brushing away a tear that slipped down her cheek.

Annabelle’s breath hitched at the unexpected intimacy.

“Dante…” she began, but her words were cut off by movement near the warehouse.

The children emerged first, their small figures huddled together under the protection of Angelo’s men.

Annabelle’s heart leaped as her eyes scanned the group, searching frantically. Then she saw her.

Her sister had just refused to enter the van with her arms wrapped around two children.

Just then, gunshots fired in the warehouse and the children who were already in the van screamed.

“Cathy!” she screamed, throwing open the car door.

“Annabelle, wait!” Dante’s voice was sharp, but she couldn’t stop herself.

Not when she saw his men turning to fire at the guards standing outside.

She was determined that nothing was going to stop her from getting to her sister this time. Not even gunshots.

Cathy froze at the sound of her name, her head snapping toward the source.

Her face crumpled as she recognised Annabelle, and she clutched the trembling children tighter to her sides as if afraid to believe it was real.

Annabelle closed the distance between them in seconds, dropping to her knees to envelop Cathy and the squirming twins in her arms.

The twins wriggled free, but Cathy clung tightly to Annabelle.

“I’m so sorry,” Annabelle whispered, her voice trembling. “I’m so sorry, Cathy. I’ll never leave you again. Never.”

As the surrounding chaos died down almost immediately, Cathy’s small hands rose shakily to Annabelle’s face.

Her fingers brushed against her sister’s cheek as if confirming she wasn’t a figment of her imagination.

“Anna?” she whispered tentatively, her voice raw and broken.

“It’s me,” Annabelle said, cradling her close. “I’m here.”

A hand on her shoulder broke for a moment. Annabelle looked up to see Dante, his expression unreadable. “We need to leave. Now.”

Annabelle nodded, her mind still reeling.

She rose, pulling Cathy up with her.

But Cathy’s gaze darted back toward the warehouse, her distress showing.

“The others…” she began, her voice trembling.

“They’re safe,” Dante assured her, his voice steady. “They’ll be taken care of.”

Cathy hesitated but allowed Annabelle to guide her toward the car.

She flinched as Dante approached, shrinking slightly behind her sister.

Dante’s jaw tightened, his thoughts darkened.

He could only hope those bastards hadn’t stolen the light from this little girl’s soul.

**********

As the car sped away, Annabelle held Cathy close, her heart pounding.

She could feel Dante’s presence beside her, his hand resting protectively on her knee.

She didn’t need to look at him to know he was still on high alert.

In the back of her mind, she knew what had happened in the warehouse.

She could see it in the bloodstains on one of the men's clothes, the sharp edge to Angelo’s voice as he gave orders.

But for now, she pushed it away.

Cathy was safe, and that was all that mattered.

Cathy shifted in her arms. Then she looked up at her sister with wide, haunted eyes. “You came for me,” she whispered.

Annabelle kissed the top of her head, her voice firm. “Always.”

Behind them, a red glow lit the predawn sky from the direction of the warehouse.