Capítulo 35: Hidden in the Shadows is our Worst Fear

As the sun began to set, its golden rays illuminated The Narrows, setting it ablaze with a flurry of activity. The unexpected downpour that battered the streets did little to stifle the business of anyone active at this time. On the secluded side of a street corner, shaded by a broken streetlight, a black sedan waited, its engine idle, ready to bolt at short notice. The masked man sat in the driver's seat, reclined back in his chair, his attention on the phone pressed into his ear.

"Baby, I get you, you feel me?" the man said, his eyes lazily focused on the rearview mirror. "I've been craving that lasagne you cook all week. You know I can't wait."

Another phone buzzed repeatedly, on the footwell, near the man's feet.

"I got a surprise for you when I get back," the man continued, giggling. "No, no. I can't tell you. You got t—"

The passenger door whipped open, drowning the car in the constant, droning cacophony of countless rain droplets. Another man leaned in. "What the fuck are you doing, Tony? Sam's been trying to reach you. They are here." Then the man sat in the car and shut the door.

"Baby, I'll call you later," Tony said. "Bye. Love you."

The other man's jaw dropped, speechless with disbelief. Tony ignored the look at first, reaching into the back seat and grabbing a duffle bag.

"What?" Tony asked.

"I can't believe this fucking shit," the man said, scoffing. "Shadow's been busting our asses and you on the phone with the missus during an operation?"

"An operation? Na, this is just a good old-fashioned drug deal. You got nothing to worry about, Tommy. You'll be fine."

Another car pulled into the street, stopping near Tony's car and pulling down its tinted window, which revealed a man of Mexican descent with a scarred face.

"You got my stuff, Felix?" Tony peered at the man.

As Felix lit a cigarette, he shot Tony and Tommy questioning looks. "You sure you got no badges hiding under that shirt, compadre?"

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Tony exchanged perplexed glances with Tommy. "You and I go way back. Did you forget that?"

They fell into silence as Felix studied the two men. Tony noted that there were other people in Felix's car. It wasn't unusual for Felix to be with another man during their dealings over the years, but the extra men packed into the back seat unsettled him.

They fell silent as Felix studied them. Tony couldn't help but notice that there were additional individuals present in Felix's car. While it wasn't out of the ordinary for Felix to have another man with him during their business transactions throughout the years, the sight of the extra men squeezed into the back seat made Tony uneasy.

"Just asking," Felix said finally. "Word on the street is that your people are infested with Chivato. Dirty rats."

Tony's hands tightened on his steering wheel. "Look, you gonna give me the stuff or not? Quit wasting my time."

Felix smiled, showing yellow, jagged teeth. "The dough first."

"200 grand," Tony said, handing his duffle bag to Felix, who passed it to his men and retrieved another bag for Tony.

"High grade white. Five kilos. I even added a little extra for the family to enjoy after dinner." His men laughed as Felix leaned in. "Consider it a farewell gift. Our arrangement ends for the foreseeable future. Your people have too much heat, compadre."

After Felix left, Tony drove around a few blocks. He had no particular destination in mind; the drive designed to discover any tailing cars. Another car followed behind him, but that was his men.

With the coast clear, Tony pulled into an abandoned apartment building that served as one of The Black Book's stash houses twenty minutes later. He retrieved the black bag and stepped out of the car while Tommy stayed back, whose job was to park the car nearby.

Tony knocked on the back door. The fences around the building lacked lighting fixtures to play into the abandoned facade of the building. That never bothered Tony until recently. Or about three years ago, when Metal Shadow began to hunt them down. Now the corners of the fences, shrouded in darkness from shadows, sent shivers up his spine. He knocked on the door again, more force put into his blows. The faint droplets of the now calm rain did little to alter the raised hairs on his skin.

Light footsteps echoed off the stone floor and brick walls. Tony reached for his pistol as Tommy rounded the corner.

"They haven't let you in?" His partner asked.

"Yeah," he said, sighing and letting go of his gun.

Tommy, too, knocked on the door, then proceeded to give the handle a twist. Surprisingly, the door opened.

"What?" He stepped in after Tommy. "They know not to leave the doors unlocked. Mikey! Lucky! Bre—"

The door slammed shut behind them, its locking mechanism audibly triggered.

"Shit!" He said, pulling out his gun and dropping the bag. Tommy followed his lead with a clumsy frenzy of movement.

"The associates with us," Tony asked. "You see them in the parking lot?"

Tommy shook his head. "Na, the place was deserted. It's like they didn't want their cut or nothing."

Upon reaching for the light switch, he realized that the power had been cut. "I doubt that. We've been compromised, Tommy. It's him."

His partner's hands shook with fear. "Fuck, man. I've got a family. Mama. Pa—"

"Hey!" He grabbed his friend's shoulders. "Not now, Tommy. You can't fold. If you do, we are as good as dead."

"What the fuck do we do? It's Metal Shadow, for fuck's sake."

"We fight. We watch each other's shadow. If he pops out, we light him up like the fourth of July. Okay? Chin up, you're a made man, not some pussy."

Somehow, those inspiring words, however bleak they may be in light of their dismal situation, were meant more for him than his partner.

The duo stuck close as they vacated the dark lobby into the steers, past the elevators, their guns pointed and their eyes peeled for any movement.

The floor above was mostly a central area, which served as a hub for the meetings and business negotiations of made men in The Black Book. Aided by the light from his phone, Tony could see a bloody mess of strewn bodies, his heart lurching at the sight as a nervous sweat broke down his forehead.

"Jesus Christ!" Tommy exclaimed.

Tony avoided looking at the faces of his dead brethren as he passed on, determined to ascend the floors to reach his apartment. There, he stashed some heavier firepower. Resolute in his thoughts, he made a firm declaration that today would mark the downfall of Metal Shadow, even if it meant sacrificing his own life.

The cracking of broken plates echoed through the air, startling both men. Tommy let loose a few rounds into the surrounding darkness. After a few tense moments of waiting for something that never happened, they moved once more.

At the doorway leading into his apartment, Tommy screamed and fell down, clutching his leg.

"Ahh!" His friend rolled around. "I can't feel my leg. Shit!"

Without waiting to find out what would happen, Tony rushed towards his bedroom, then he ripped off a painting hanging above his bed, revealing a concealed safe. It proved difficult to open his safe, considering his unsteady hands and eyes that constantly glanced over his shoulder.

"Why don't you let me help you with that?" A muffled voice asked behind him.

Tony whipped around and peppered the drywall across his bed with bullet holes. He stepped away from the bed and the walls, his eyes darting side to side in search of Shadow.

"Show yourself!" he screamed. "I'm sure we can work something out. There is no need to make rash decisions."

Trapped in a room plagued with shadows with no avenue for escape, he failed to notice that Tommy had gone silent.

"Somehow, I doubt that," the voice said, much closer now, as if it originated from someone looking over his shoulder.

Before Tony could react, a punch sent him sprawling to the floor, causing his gun to skip away from him. A cold metallic hand gripped his neck and lifted him. Tony found himself face to face with Metal Shadow, the deadliest enemy of The Black Book. It was widely known amongst made men that if one was to lay their eyes on Metal Shadow, your time had come. Tony dropped his arms, hoping that his fate was incarceration rather than a swift and brutal end. But judging from the fate of his colleagues who lived in this building thus far, it was a slim possibility.

Metal Shadow ripped off Tony's mask, the six eyes of the armored superhero staring into his soul.

"Antony Marcelo," Metal Shadow said. "I am fully aware of all the details concerning you and your operation. There is no hope for scum like you. I would bury you under Hermosville penitentiary. That is, if you leave here alive."

As Metal Shadow's hand gripped his throat, he struggled to catch his breath while suspended in the air.

"Please," Tony pleaded. "What do you want? Money? I've got a couple million dollars stashed here. You can have all of it." He couldn't tell if Metal Shadow was considering his plight as the terrifying superhero's armored helm stared at him, unmoving. Nevertheless, he had no choice other than to beg for his life. "Okay, okay. I'll become your informant. Any information you want, I'll relay it to you. I'd become your lap dog. Please—"

"Tell me about Declan O'Malley, Nikolai Ivanov, and Finnegan Callahan," Metal Shadow said. "Keep in mind, your life depends on the validity of the information you choose to share."

Tears dripped down his eyes. He knew now he was good as finished. Even if Metal Shadow let him live, Tony knew that being found out as a snitch in jail would result in a quick, painful death. And he would be lucky to die that way. Still, he couldn't fathom dying here alone. Memories of his mother came flooding in. He pleaded with her to aid him. But she had passed over ten years ago, leaving him to face his situation by himself.

He knew little about the escaped high-ranking men. However, he came across Finnegan not too long ago when a few promising made men, like himself, were summoned. Antony Marcelo opened his mouth, determined to survive, but nothing came out as a dagger sank into his brain through his eye.

❊ ❊ ❊

Metal Shadow dropped the dead man, a protium blade extending from his forearm while compartments on his shoulders opened, revealing an array of micro-missiles. "You shouldn't have done that."

"Why not?" a woman said, her accent distinctly Russian. "I would've asked you to release the man, but I know that to be a waste of my time. Besides, we do not take rats lightly."

Metal Shadow carefully examined his new adversary. She wore a sleek, matte black bodysuit that hugged her form. His cameras and sensors picked up armor-reinforced ribbing, discreetly woven into high-impact areas on her suit, to provide further protection. A gunmetal gray utility harness system crisscrossed around her torso and legs, granting her quick access to an array of sidearms, blades, grenades, and other unidentified weapons, which his scanners studied. She wore a gunmetal gray helmet, shaped like a cat with crimson accents tracing whiskers on an otherwise featureless face.

Metal Shadow deactivated his voice amplifier, rendering his voice to the confines of his helmet. "Sheppard, run a check of her vocal signature against HAVEN, FBI, and NSA databases. Add mine to the check for good measure."

"I've conducted a thorough analysis of her vocal signature and there are no matches," Sheppard—his personal, artificial intelligence system—replied in her monotone voice. "However, further analysis reveals that her voice has been modified, likely to evade identification. Shall I continue scanning for additional alterations?"

"Yes," Metal Shadow said, then switched his voice amplifier on. "There is no reprieve in this life you have chosen. You will be hunted by law enforcement, rival gangs, and myself; forced to always look over your shoulder until your eventual demise."

"Thank you for the advice," she said. "Though you should heed your own counsel, Shadow. You leave a sea of enemies in your wake."

Metal Shadow unleashed a barrage of missiles, expecting her to have countermeasures given her confident stance. His prediction was accurate as the woman remained motionless, allowing the missiles to pass through her and embed themselves in the wall behind her. Metal Shadow had deactivated their payloads as he only released them to gauge her reaction. This opponent possessed too many unknown variables for him to accurately assess his chances of success in battle.

The woman turned her back on him and phased through the wall, leaving him behind. Metal Shadow remained in place, requesting assistance from HAVEN to further examine the site, clean the mess, and seize any contraband found on the site.