Page 24 of Fractured Future

“Sure.” I shrug.

“Hell yeah! Really?”

“If you want a box full of mouldy crumbs to arrive two months later, then yes. Call her.”

He deflates, the swirls of black ink that completely cover his throat barely concealing the way his Adam’s apple lurches. It feels somewhat akin to kicking an excited toddler who wants candy.

Not like I’ve done that.

“It’s unkind to tease, you know.”

“Life is fucking unkind, Ax.”

“You don’t have to help it!” He throws his arms up in annoyance. “Pay for your own tacos tonight.”

“Technically speaking, I am your boss. And that is a business credit card. So I’m paying for my own tacos tonight and every night.”

“Bloody smartass,” he grumbles.

Watching him stomp off, I pull on a fresh shirt. After staking out a local underground club all night—rife with illegal fights and prostitution—we didn’t sleep until midday. A matter of hours later, duty calls once more.

Every time I think we’re getting close to a breakthrough, it’s snatched from our fingers all over again. I’m getting tired of delivering my weekly phone call to Tom with no updates.

Mexico is a vast country, seven times bigger than our patch of land back in the United Kingdom. Sure, we’ve dealt with criminal conspiracies, illegal empires that rival the royal family in wealth and even government corruption before.

Nothing this large-scale.

And nothing this personal.

Sabre Security is the finest private investigative firm in the UK. Our fearsome reputation is second to none. Ever since the groundbreaking Blackwood Institute case nearly a decade ago, we’ve conducted business in the limelight.

We only take the hardest criminal cases, the ones that no one else can crack. The kind that takes years’ worth of painstaking work, the best investigators and unlimited resources.

I’ve headed up our division—the Anaconda Team—alone since my partner moved to live in the middle of nowhere. After all this time and years of military service before joining Sabre, it’s safe to say I feel comfortable in enemy territory.

Then I came here.

We’ve tackled human trafficking cases before. One of my best pieces of work was wrapping up a case a few years back, granting the young mother justice when she fled a depraved individual who forced her into marriage.

We’re still unravelling the complex web that huge case exposed. It takes time to identify an intricate ring of traffickers, mobsters and criminal masterminds wreaking havoc.

Our continuing work became personal when my best friend’s sister was kidnapped. When she vanished into thin air, several exhaustive investigations pointed towards human trafficking.

Ember.

Just her name fills me with grief and pain.

Weeks of searching turned to months, and months turned to agonising years. From the intel we’ve gained and tied to a complex ecosystem of cartels and trafficking rings, we’ve moved our search to Mexico.

“Warner!” Hyland hollers through the door.

“Yeah?”

“Coffee. We’re late.”

“Alright, I’m coming.”

Staring into my vivid-blue eyes, the vibrant gleam dulled by exhaustion, I hate to admit that we’re getting nowhere. This web is a living, breathing manifestation of evil. Constantly shifting and changing, throwing us in all directions as we search for evidence.