“Who’s got her?” Nick asked.
“A nobody who got lucky. She’s alive and badly injured.”
“It should be a piece of cake, then.”
“Don’t get cocky,” Rodrigo warned him.
They drove for a while and when the lights turned red at an intersection, a young kid sprang forward with a rag in his hand, ready to wash their windows. Nick was going to shoo the kid away but Rodrigo spoke up.
“I’m looking for the Jackal,” Rodrigo told the boy.
“He said you were coming,” the boy said. “Keep driving. Turn right after five blocks and ask for him again.”
Rodrigo did as the kid said and at the next intersection there was a girl who was also washing windows. She approached the car and the game was repeated again. In total, they had to speak with three kids in order to reach their final destination: an old factory with the windows on the first floor shuttered. The outside had been painted and repainted with graffiti. They parked their cars, and the seven goons, along with Rodrigo, Nick, and La Bola, assembled before the factory’s doors. Nacho and Colima were told to remain in the cars, just in case a quick getaway was necessary.
Only a couple of minutes after they had parked two teenagers opened the doors of the building and let them in, guiding them to a room with nothing but peeling walls and a few chairs. Half a dozen young men, including a kid who could not have been older than thirteen, were sitting on the chairs, smoking cigarettes and chatting with each other. When they walked in, one of them stood up, tall and strong, his head shaved. Up close Nick saw he was noticeably older than the rest.
The man shook their hands.
“I’m the Jackal,” he announced.
“I’m Rodrigo and this is Nick. We have the reward.”
Rodrigo took out a briefcase and opened it, showing its contents to the Jackal. The Jackal seemed very pleased, chuckling. He had an unpleasant voice, a bit high-pitched.
“Good. I have your girl and your dog.”
“I’m eager to see them both,” Rodrigo said.
“She’s over here,” the Jackal said, and started walking.
They followed him. The Jackal’s men were chatty, while Rodrigo and Nick remained quiet. They rounded a corner, and even before he could see anything Nick knew something was wrong. He smelled the blood. The Jackal was going to open a door, but Nick shoved him away.
The Jackal protested loudly, but Nick slammed the door open and walked into a hallway lined with cages. Just as he thought. He spotted two men on the ground. Nick spun around, glaring at the Jackal.
“What the fuck is this?” Nick asked.
“Well, I’ll be damned. I didn’t think your lady friend could manage this. No worries. They’ll be trying to head out through the loading bay or the side entrance,” the Jackal said. “We can cut them off if we split up.”
“Well, let’s cut them the hell off!” Nick yelled.
The Jackal barked orders at two of his men. Rodrigo ordered four of their own goons to go with the Jackal’s boys; the other three remained with them.
“All right, let’s nab them,” the Jackal said, chuckling some more.
They rushed back the way they had come. Rodrigo’s goons had their guns and stun batons out, but Nick hadn’t bothered bringing anything. He cursed himself for this basic mistake.
“This way, this way,” the Jackal urged them. They stumbled into what must have once been a large loading area, now littered with broken crates and garbage and perfumed with the scent of blood. And there she was, killing a man, one of the Jackal’s boys who’d obviously tried to bar her escape. He also spotted a young man and Atl’s dog, though they were both of little importance and seemed to be cowering in a corner. His focus was the girl.
Nick stepped forward, ready to smash her to shreds, but Rodrigo grabbed Nick’s arm.
“Get her! Hurry up!” cried the old man. He looked at the Jackal. “You too, you morons. There’s no payment if she gets out of here.”
The Jackal yelled a few orders and the three young men—teenagers; “men” was not the right term—escorting him quickly rushed to surround Atl, no questions asked. She kicked one away, sending him slamming against a bunch of old crates. Rodrigo, meanwhile, was still holding Nick by the arm.
“Let go,” Nick muttered.
“They can handle it. No need for you to get your hands dirty.”
“I’m not a child.”
“This is their job.”
The Jackal was yelling into his phone, telling someone to hurry to the loading bay, and Rodrigo turned to speak to the goons.