Chapter Twelve

Zella Mills - Naguela - Varela Offices

Thunderous footsteps assailed the hushed silence, reverberating ominously against the cold tiles of the main room. Positioned with ruthless precision, Zella and Joe dominated their space, their eyes sharp, predatory. The intruders, if they dared to reach Santino, would have to eat the barrage of lead that waited for them.

Santino was on his knees, leaning against the desk with his rifle stretched across the surface, aiming right through the open door. Zella glanced at Joe, who was standing on the opposite side of the door frame with his back against the wall. Her own back was against the door, folded against the wall. She read the worry in Joe’s eyes. She felt bad for putting him in the line of fire so often, but it was what he’d signed up for.

They heard the men get into cover at the other end of the hall, using the corner wall. Zella nodded at Joe, urging him to be ready. She glanced over at Santino and saw the angered expression across his face as his eye focused down the iron sights.

The intruders tossed something into the middle of the hallway that came awfully close to their door. “Smoke!” Santino called. Zella acted immediately, stepping away from the door and swinging it shut.

“Now we won’t see them coming,” Santino said.

“They’ll make quick work of us if we let the smoke get to us. They must be wearing masks.” As Zella spoke, she could feel the smoke pulling down her throat. Joe coughed frantically as the smoke poured through the bottom of the door. “Move!” she cried. Together, Zella and Joe ran to the back of the room and took a place on either side of Santino’s desk.

The door burst open, allowing the smoke cloud to pour into the room. Zella took her shots without hesitation, hitting one man in his neck and seeing him drop.

Bullets danced a deadly ballet throughout the room, their trajectories painting a frenzied masterpiece of chaos and fear. The luxury of knowing who was struck and who was spared was a distant thought, irrelevant amidst the smoky symphony of battle. Her singular focus was to ensure each thunderous echo from her gun was a harbinger of precision-led doom.

The men were smart enough to wear gas masks and bulletproof vests, forcing her to focus her aim on other lethal parts of the body. Either the neck or right above the hip, where the vest didn’t protect, were the best options.

Smoke reduced visibility so much that Santino and Joe had shot where they believed the men to be. Santino’s rifle was giving them the suppression they needed. She held her breath in order to not inhale too much smoke and she moved around the desk, looking for the outlines of the men.

A dark shadow stepped into her space and swung a knife at her. She dodged the knife and pressed the nose of her gun under the man’s chin and fired. His body fell against her and she let it tumble to the floor. She heard the body of another man fall in the distance. “Got him,” Joe called before coughing frantically.

Santino ran to the windows and pushed them open. “Climb down to the lower roof and then we can take the fire escape down,” he instructed them.

And then Santino was screaming at the top of his lungs as a bullet tore through his shoulder. He fell against the bottom of the window and felt the damage. Zella stepped to the window and peeked down below, seeing the shooter on the lower roof.

The room had a second set of windows on the opposite side that also faced outward to the lower roof. Zella pointed in Joe’s direction, hoping he would understand what she wanted him to do. He nodded.

Joe positioned himself in front of the identical set of windows on the other side. He waited for Zella to reload, and then he swiftly opened the windows. The shooter shifted his aim to the other window, allowing Zella to pop out on her side and fire down at him. She saw him fall onto the roof but continued to fire.

Joe crawled to Santino’s side. “Can you get up?”

“I think it went in and out. I should be okay,” Santino said. Both men coughed as Joe helped Santino get to his feet.

“Looks safe,” Zella said. She climbed out of the window first and dropped onto the lower roof beside the intruder’s body. Santino came next, crashing against the roof on his back, yelling in pain. Joe came last, landing on his feet. “Reload and stay ready,” Zella said.

They checked their perimeter until they saw it was safe to take the stairs down. The bodies of Santino’s guards were in a bloodied heap outside the front gate.

A divine hand had been at play, Zella was certain. In the deadly dance of bullets, they'd once again waltzed away unscathed. Survivors of yet another heart-stopping ambush. How long until their luck ran out?

*

Santino opened his box of cigarettes and took one from the pack. “Smoke?” he asked, waving the box toward Zella and Joe.

Zella shook her head, but Joe took one. “Gracias,” Joe said, putting the cigarette to his lips.

Zella watched Santino lean himself against the side of the ambulance. He had called a crisis team to remove the bodies from the building, and emergency services to tend to their injuries. Wealthy men like Santino had every service they needed on speed dial, and they showed up without delay.

Visions of the deceased invaded Zella's mind, particularly the one man she'd shot through the chin. The image of his body was seared into her memory. A bullet wound through the chin; his mask was removed to reveal startled, bloodshot eyes. Eyes that held an uncanny stillness, a silent suggestion of a spirit that clung on, unwilling to accept the finality of death.

A quick examination of the bodies revealed they were Xoprenian forces.

The country of Xopren existed on the border between China and Russia. After a mix of Southeast Asians and Eastern Europeans united to form their own military state, the nation of Xopren was born in 2026.

“Why were those men coming after you?” Zella asked.

Santino took a drag on his cigarette, still shaken from the near-death experience. “It all started when hackers took down my bank accounts about a month ago. Damn hackers hit five of my accounts. The banks worked diligently to get me back online, but I hesitated to use the accounts again until a forensic investigation took place. This caused some setbacks on a few debts I owed.”

Joe blew smoke through his lips. “A loan shark in debt, imagine that.”

Santino smirked. “Wise guy. I usually keep my debt under control. It was debt that I knew I could, and would, pay back. If not for a big inconvenience caused by these hackers.”

“So you were in debt to these Xopren men?” Zella asked.

“To put it simply, I owed money to the Xopren mafia. And as you can see, you do not want to have an unpaid bill with that bunch. When I told them about my situation with the accounts, they simply gave me a new deadline in which to pay them what I owed. That deadline passed two days ago.”

“They have no sympathy for your predicament, huh?” Joe said.

Santino moved away from the ambulance and stood up straight. “You don’t get a reputation as the most dangerous mafia by having sympathy,” he said.

Zella rubbed her forehead, feeling a light throbbing. “You better be prepared for them to come back at you, then.”

“I will settle my debt with them soon.” Santino paused for a moment, glancing between the two of them. “You see, I appreciate that you helped me out back there. For that reason, I will offer you the farm for just three percent over the price I paid for it. How does that sound?”

Zella and Joe’s eyes met. They both nodded silently. “That’s doable for us,” Zella said.

Santino smiled. “Good. Then, I will need the money wired to my account today. I don’t think this is too hard of a task for the ones who killed the immortal.”

Zella’s mouth fell open. “What?”

“You think I don’t watch the news? I saw the sketches from that road incident in Los Angeles. They say they’re the same people who killed the immortal in London. And then, here you two come showing up in my office. I had a feeling you were the ones from the sketches the moment I set eyes on you. It wasn’t until I saw you in combat that I knew for certain.” Santino watched their awkward expressions with a smug look on his own face. “Don’t worry, I won’t give you up. In fact, I’m happy that we have people with your skillset here in Naguela. Just by watching how you acted today; I believe you have good intentions. If the war escalates, there will come a time when you may need to protect this country. I want you to have the farm. I want you to be deep-rooted in Naguela and call it your home. Because we need people like you here.”

“We’re not mercs,” Joe said. “We’ve had some special training, but that doesn’t make us war ready.”

“And we’re not here to fight for Naguela,” Zella cut in. “Our fight is a different one.”

Santino tossed his cigarette. “And you think it doesn’t spill over? What if I told you that there are COG spies all over Naguela and Estrea. They are monitoring this conflict, just like they do with every war around the world. They want to be aware of any opportunities or threats affecting the U.S.”

It made sense that COG would watch this conflict closely. Zella was certain she’d heard Khloe say something similar recently. It meant they couldn’t bring too much attention to themselves, for COG operatives would soon find them. That also made Santino a threat. He now knew too much. If COG interrogated him, he could easily give them up. “Well, maybe those people on the news were just lookalikes,” Zella said. “As I said, our fight is different. We’re just good shooters who want to do legit business.”

Santino smiled as his hands dug into his pocket. He opened his wallet and handed a card to Joe. “Call this number when you are ready to pay up. I will need it before sundown.”

“Should we expect any blowback here?” Zella asked. “We did off a few of their men, after all.”

“Don’t worry, I will settle it,” Santino said. “In this line of work, some men are disposable. It’s a sad reality, but the mafia always sends the men they can afford to lose first.”

“Were your guards disposable too?” Zella asked. Santino dodged the question and instead offered them a pleasant goodbye.

*

The ride home was a bumpy one. The route was so turbulent, it was as if Joe was navigating a relentless succession of boulders under the merciless juddering of the vehicle. To make things worse, he’d been speaking with Lola over the phone, asking if she could transfer the funds before they got home. Zella snatched the phone from him so he’d concentrate on driving. Every time she spoke to Lola, she felt bile at the back of her throat.

But it wasn’t just car sickness. Visions of those dead bodies continued to plague her mind.

“Thanks, Zella, that’s gone through now,” Lola said over the speakerphone. “Elias is on the phone with his accountants, who will confirm the transfer.”

“Great,” Zella grunted. “Call us if there’s anything else.” Something was coming up her throat. She ended the call and tapped Joe on the arm. “Pull over.”

“Number one or number two?” Joe asked. “Because this isn’t a good number two spot.”

She slapped him once more on the arm. The car jerked before coming to a halt. Zella popped the door open immediately and stumbled over to a patch of hard urban soil next to the road. A torrent of vomit erupted from her lips, splattering on the ground. She gagged and coughed violently, feeling as if she was dying.

“Oh gosh,” Joe said. She hadn’t heard him approach. “Zella, what’s the matter? Are you sick?”

Feeling that there was nothing more to come, she rolled onto her butt and sat at the side of the road, her legs arched before her. She felt a surge of nausea. “Those bodies really affected me.”

“You serious? Zella the Immortal slayer is sick at the sight of dead bodies now?”

She took a napkin from her pocket and wiped her mouth. “Maybe I love guns, and maybe I do want to stop the immortals. But… that doesn’t mean I like all of this violence. I don’t want to kill people. It brings back memories of the day Father died. Dead bodies are haunting.” She questioned herself after speaking. Was it right to feel this way after killing Zip?

Joe offered her his hand, allowing her to pull herself back onto her feet. “Come here, Zell,” he said, pulling her into a hug. Joe was sweaty, but being in his arms felt safe and reassuring. “I’m with you, girl. It hasn’t been easy on me either. Miss my mom all the time.”

After several loud sniffles between them, Zella peered over the side of his body at their car. Both doors were wide open. She shifted in his arms, but Joe’s grip on her tightened as if he wasn’t ready to let her go.

What would Khloe say if she saw us like this? It was what she wanted to say, but she decided on a different comment. “Thanks, Halili. It’s been a long day. Let’s head back.”

-Mere Immortal is written by Gary Swift. If you see this on another website under another name, then someone has plagiarised it. Visit mereimmortal.com for official chapters. Subscribe to the Substack paid tier to read further ahead in the story.

-This version of Mere Immortal is written in US English.