IRINA IS MISSING

The sound of foot steps running a couple of paces from where she stood propelled her into a dark alley, a place which was dimly lit by the light shining at the end of the alley.

As she approached the end of the alley, she began to hear hushed voices. When she got closer, she froze. Their conversation was the reason for her sudden reaction.

"Pack the bodies up quickly. The boss does not want a mess. What about the witnesses?"

"And the target?" one of the men asked in an electric tone.

"He's dead. I took him out as well." the man replied.

Irina gasped. "Target?" She said aloud, and then she pressed her hand to her mouth to stop herself from making any further sounds.

"I hope you did a clean job. The Boss does not want any traces as usual." the man said.

"Yes. Let's pack up."

Irina took off her shoes and quietly began to retreat out of the alley. As soon as she reached the end of the alley, she bumped into something, but before she could scream, two large hands covered her mouth and pulled her away from the alley.

He dragged her into a dark corner and held her pressed against his chest. The odd, metallic taste of blood slipped into Irina's mouth from his hand, and she could tell that the man in question was badly injured.

As soon as the men who had been packing up drove away, the man's grip on her lessened and he fell to the ground.

Irina's first instinct was to run away, but he grabbed her hand and held onto it tightly.

She turned to look at the man who laid limply on the floor, his striking amber eyes gazing into hers.

Something swirled in her that told her she could not leave him there.

"Hey! Hey get up!" Irina trembled. The man's face was covered in blood, which had soaked his brown, neck length hair.

"Oh damnit! You can't die on me! come on!" Irina applied pressure to the gun wound on his chest, which was bleeding profusely.

"Stay with me, Sir. I'm calling for help now!" she said in a trembling voice.

"No hospitals." the man said in a raspy tone.

"What?" Irina leaned closer to hear what he had said.

"No.... hospitals." the man repeated.

"Oh damnit! What?? Okay okay."

She pulled out her phone, unsure of who to call. Her first thoughts were to call Cathy, but she was probably too busy humping her boyfriend.

"Bartholomew!" her driver and bodyguard. In less than thirty minutes, a black Chevrolet Silverado sped into the corner where she was.

A tall, dark man, with a scar across his left under eye stepped out of the car and rushed to Irina's side.

"Help me, please!" she said to him.

****

"Irina has not returned home since yesterday, Mr. Madrigal. We have men on sight looking everywhere for her right now." The head maid of the Madrigal house trembled.

"I put you in charge of my daughter and you dare tell Me that she is missing!?? You had all better pray to your gods or whatever thing you serve that my daughter is alive and well, or all of you will have to pay for it."

Mr. Padre Madrigal was a six feet tall man with shoulder length hair which he always gelled back neatly. In his fifties, yet, he was still very fit and healthy.

He had little tolerance for incompetence, he was ruthless and treasured his most prized possession dearly.

In that moment, his most prized possession was missing.

"Find my little girl before I murder all of you!!!!" He roared out angrily. Everyone scampered in different directions, trying of some way to be useful to the problem at hand.

Padre Madrigal walked into his study, heaving and fuming with steam. And in moments like this, he always needed a scape goat.

So, he pulled the young man closest to him and began punching him in the face.

Nobody dared stop him, he was furious and needed to cool off steam. By the time he was done, one of the guards handed him a towel, and he began wiping his fists. The young man who had been his victim for the day was helplessly dragged off by another of his guards.

His study door swung open and four people walked in; one of them was his frail assistant who was by now shaking to her bones, the second was his handsome son, Antonio Madrigal.

The third man was his friend and business partner, Diego Sanchez, who was followed closely by his aggrieved looking daughter, Irina's best friend, Cathy Sanchez.

Dressed in a black knee length dress and a blue jean jacket, Cathy looked pale, her cheeks looked puffed up and she seemed to have been crying all morning.

Mr. Madrigal looked up at them from his chair where he was now seated. His eyes dimmed with wrath, he could not bother to be swayed by the tears which fell from Cathy's eyes.

He licked his lips and propped his hand on the table.

"Where is my daughter?" He asked. Mr. Sanchez stepped forward, putting a couple of paces between himself and his daughter, for her own safety.

"They were together last night, and Cathy was just bringing her home when the men attacked them."

"What men?" Mr. Madrigal's expression was glass like and unmoving.

"The Merchant boys." Mr. Diego Sanchez replied.

"Father, we found her shoes at the tunnel leading to El Puerto. They took her and ran off in that direction." Antonio explained to his father.

"Two weeks to the house of representatives decision, and two months to the final elections, you tell me that my eighteen years old baby girl is missing?" Mr. Madrigal chuckled

"First of all, Diego, I respect our relationship and that is the reason your baby girl is still alive, because Irina had her orders not to leave this house without guards, or return late!"

"But your daughter took her out regardless. They snuck out of school and no one saw them after lunch break. I am a reasonable man, I believe you agree." Mr. Madrigal asked.

"Yes, Mr. Madrigal, you are." Mr. Diego replied.

"A daughter for a daughter." Mr. Madrigal murmurrred. "And now, you begin to pray that nothing happens to my daughter." Mr. Madrigal said warningly to him.