Page 5 of They Found Us (Found #5)

“Here, today, you will witness the death of the last Guerra. After this moment, I do not want that name to ever be said again. The Guerra name dies with him.”

I see red. My body burns and pulsates with fury.

Without thinking, I fire the machine gun through the door in the direction of the Martelé.

They return fire in my direction. Bullets shoot through the walls, narrowly missing my head.

I step back, shielding myself behind a marble cabinet in the hallway.

I return fire again, holding my arm up in their direction until their retaliation comes to an end.

Leaving it a moment, I wait in my retreat for any indication of survivors.

I light a cigar and take a long drag to calm my nerves.

When I don’t hear a sound, I approach the door.

Peering through the opening, I see the lifeless Martelé bodies on the floor.

I’m relieved to see Marco and Van looking at each other in disbelief.

A rush of exhilaration shoots through my body.

It’s a welcome euphoria I hadn’t realised I had missed until now.

Entering through the doorway, I take another drag of my cigar, feeling smug as I watch the expressions on Van’s and Marco’s faces.

Van bursts into laughter. “What took you so long?”

Van was the one who called me and asked for help. I had guessed he had done this without Marco’s knowledge. And from the look on Marco’s face right now, I definitely guessed correctly.

“Aren’t you supposed to be fucking dead?” Marco booms.

“Had to come and save your sorry ass, didn’t I?” I reply as I untie Van, who is still finding the situation hilarious, unlike Marco, who is furious I have intervened.

“What have you fucking done! You died so you and your wife could live. Now you have just put another bounty on both your heads!”

He is pissing me off now. Does he think I don’t know what I risked to come here?

I stand in front of him, looking him in the eyes.

“Marco. My sole purpose has always been to protect my family. You are my family. I wouldn’t even be alive now if it wasn’t for the many times you have saved my life.

Now, don’t ever question my judgement again. ”

As I release Marco from his restraints, he tries to stand up. But as he does, he falls. I just about support his heavy frame. When I look down, I see the reason for his unsteadiness. “Shit, look at the state of you.”

Blood soaks his ankles and pools around his feet. Once I’ve sat him back down, I take a closer look. His heels have been shot. It’s a mess. He will be lucky to walk again. Infuriated, I wish the Martelé weren’t dead so I could kill them again, much slower.

After instructing Van to arrange confidential emergency treatment with the best surgeon money can buy, I bandage Marco’s wounds up the best I can.

Van pulls the car as close to the front door as possible.

I’m worried about Marco. He is in a bad way.

He dozes in and out of consciousness as we carry him to the car.

We need to get him medical attention soon, or we are going to lose him.

We get Marco to the medical centre in record time. The Guerra have their own private entrance, with minimal staff who are on our payroll.

Once Marco is in good hands, I ask Van to explain the Guerra’s situation. “I want to know everything. Leave nothing out. From the moment I left three years ago until now.”

The hours while Marco is in surgery pass by quickly. I pace up and down the room, listening to the turmoil the Guerra organisation has now become.

“The damage began when Mia disappeared,” Van explains.

But he is wrong. The destruction started when I faked my own death.

I left Marco on his own. He had no elders to guide him, no one on his level for support.

Van is a number-one man, but he is not a Guerra.

He does not share the same blood. The situation is far worse than I first thought.

The whole existence of the Guerra is at stake.

When Marco’s surgery is complete, he is brought into the room with Van and me. The surgeon is pleased with how the operation went, the damage wasn’t as severe as first expected.

“He needs rest and time to heal,” the surgeon explains without making eye contact.

“Thank you, Doctor. Unfortunately that’s easier said than done with this one,” I reply as I look at my strong number one lying unconscious and helpless in his bed.

After telling me everything he knows, Van looks to me for guidance. “What’s the plan, then, boss? Surely, we can expect a retaliation from the Martelé?”

Van is right. A retaliation will come. Although not just yet.

They will have to appoint a new leader, which will take time, seeing as the next in the bloodline is only twelve years old.

I explain this to Van. Although I’m speaking positivity and assertively, at this point, with me being dead, I don’t see how the Guerra stand a chance.

“In the meantime, we need to build ourselves back up. Bigger and stronger than ever,” I state, having no idea how we will achieve this.

Our attention is caught by the sound of alarms. Marco sits bolt upright in bed, ripping the monitors from his chest.