Chapter 17: High Stakes in Caracas

The tension in the air was thick inside the dimly lit room where Ortega sat, a cigar smoldering between his fingers. His lieutenants stood around him, each waiting for orders, but one of them, Ruiz, couldn't hide his growing unease.

"We still haven't heard back from La Vela de Coro," Ruiz said, his voice taut with anxiety. "Boss, I'm telling you, something's wrong."

Ortega blew out a thick cloud of smoke, his eyes narrowing. "You think I don't know that?" he growled, more irritated by Ruiz's panic than the actual lack of contact. "Those idiots in La Vela probably screwed something up and got themselves killed. Doesn't matter. We have our end of the deal to worry about."

Ruiz's face tightened, but he pressed on. "Boss, with all due respect, if something happened out there, it's only a matter of time before they come for us. We need reinforcements."

Ortega sighed, tossing the cigar into an ashtray. "Fine. Call for backup. But I'm telling you, we don't need it. We're sitting pretty here."

Ruiz nodded and quickly moved to relay the order. Ortega watched him go, his irritation still simmering. He didn't like admitting Ruiz was right, but the silence from La Vela de Coro gnawed at him. He waved to one of his men.

"Double the patrols," he ordered, "and have the men stay sharp."

As Ruiz made the call for reinforcements, the kidnappers inside the complex began moving with more urgency. Ortega wasn't about to let paranoia take control, but deep down, he knew things were shifting. His instincts had kept him alive this long, and now they were screaming at him.

...

The SkyHawk sliced through the bright daylight sky, its sleek frame invisible to any radar or wandering eyes below. Iris had rerouted the flight plan to ensure Ethan approached Caracas without raising any alarms. The modified VTOL was quieter than a whisper as it glided over the sprawling industrial complex where Isabella's family was being held.

Inside the cockpit, Ethan sat, calm but focused. He had reviewed the building's layout and had memorized the patrol routes. This wasn't just a rescue mission—it was a calculated strike. They only had one shot at this, and failure wasn't an option.

SkyHawk's AI chimed in. "Deploying reconnaissance drone now." A small hatch opened on the underside of the craft, releasing a drone no bigger than a bird. The machine buzzed silently through the air, making its way toward the complex. Its sensors were already scanning for threats, its camera feeding data back to both Iris and Ethan.

"I'm picking up increased movement," Iris reported. "Looks like they've upped their patrols, and their security's tighter than expected. We don't have much time."

Ethan watched the live feed from the drone, studying the hostiles' positions and looking for weaknesses in their defenses. A knot formed in his gut when the drone's camera focused on a small room within the building. There, huddled together, were Isabella's family—pale, terrified, and exhausted. One of the younger siblings appeared especially weak, barely able to keep their eyes open.

Ethan's jaw tightened. Time was running out.

"They've just made a call for reinforcements," Iris continued. "I'm intercepting the communications now and... alright, I'm in. I'll impersonate the reinforcements' point of contact. That'll buy us a little more time, but the window is narrow. We'll have to move fast."

"Do it," Ethan said, his voice a quiet command. He stepped out of the SkyHawk, surveying the forested area where it had landed. The dense foliage provided ample cover, allowing him to stay concealed as he made his way toward the complex.

With a quick swipe on his wrist-mounted device, he summoned the modified Range Rover, its location set to remain on standby a short distance from the building. Iris would control it remotely, ensuring it would be ready to extract him and the hostages once the mission was complete.

"Vehicle on standby," Iris confirmed, her voice steady. "I'll guide it to you when you're ready for extraction."

Satisfied, Ethan took a deep breath and began his approach on foot toward the complex, moving with precision and purpose. Every step was measured, the weight of the mission settling over him as he neared his target.

...

As the drone completed its survey of the building, Iris fed real-time data back to Ethan. The display showed multiple hostiles stationed at key points—patrolling the perimeter, guarding entryways, and occasionally peering through the windows. The most critical piece of information, however, came from the room where Isabella's family was confined.

"They're in one of the inner rooms," Iris reported, her voice steady in Ethan's ear. "Looks like it's more secure than the others—probably anticipating an extraction attempt."

Ethan studied the live feed, noting the guards posted at the entrances and exits. The patrols had grown more frequent, looping every few minutes. He would have to be methodical, swift, and silent. One wrong move, one guard catching the wrong angle, and the alarm would go off—alerting Ortega and his men before he could reach the hostages.

"They've fortified the entrances, but the patrols leave blind spots near the west wing," Iris continued. "If you're quick, you can slip through without being seen."

"Understood," Ethan replied, mentally mapping out the route. He would have to neutralize the perimeter guards first—silently, without raising any suspicions. His primary objective was to reach the hostages before Ortega or his reinforcements realized what was happening. But with the heightened security and increased vigilance, every step would need to be precise.

"I'll take the back approach," Ethan muttered, his eyes focused on the drone feed. "Keep an eye on the patrols for me."

With the plan in mind, Ethan moved silently along the building's perimeter, watching the guards' movements closely. His instincts honed from years in the field, he planned each takedown, mapping out the exact timing to incapacitate them without leaving a trace.

...

Ortega, now inside the complex, continued scanning the room impatiently. He was becoming more aware of the unsettling quiet. Something wasn't right. He grabbed his radio, calling for one of the guards conducting the perimeter patrol.

No response.

His frustration surged, and he repeated the call, only to be met with silence once more. His instincts flared up—a small detail, but in a situation like this, even the smallest oversight could mean disaster.

"Where's Alvaro?" Ortega snapped at one of his lieutenants. "I need to know what's going on out there."

The lieutenant moved quickly to locate the missing guard, but Ortega's mind was already racing. Failing to get an answer from his men was never a good sign, especially not when they were so close to completing the deal. Ortega's paranoia bloomed, and his patience ran thin.

Without waiting for confirmation, Ortega made a snap decision.

"We're not taking any chances," he growled. "Kill the hostages. We can't let them be a liability."

One of his men hesitated, shock evident in his wide eyes. "But boss—"

"Now!" Ortega barked, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Before we lose control of the situation."

...

From his position just outside the main building, Ethan heard the commotion inside. Iris's voice broke through his earpiece.

"They're planning to execute the hostages, Sir. Ortega's giving the order now."

Ethan swore under his breath. Things were escalating faster than he had anticipated. His pace quickened as he reached for his radio. "Bring the Range Rover around, Iris. East side of the building."

"Already on it," she replied, controlling the vehicle remotely. Ethan knew he had only minutes—maybe less—before Ortega's men carried out the order.

With precision and speed, Ethan entered the building through an unguarded side door. The sounds of hurried footsteps and raised voices echoed through the narrow halls. He moved swiftly but silently, taking down a guard with a quick, calculated strike before the man even had a chance to raise the alarm.

...

Ethan's swift elimination of the two guards outside the room holding Isabella's family had been clean, efficient—silent gunshots and precise blows. The door slid open with a creak, revealing the terrified captives inside. Isabella's family, bound by cuffs and ropes, looked up in confusion, their eyes widening with recognition as Ethan moved swiftly toward them.

"No time to explain. We're getting out of here," he said in a low, urgent tone. He crouched down, quickly cutting through the bindings around their wrists and ankles. The youngest, barely conscious, had to be hoisted up, draped gently over his sister's shoulder.

As he freed the last of them, Iris's voice came through his earpiece.

"They've figured out you're inside. You need to move. Now."

Ethan's jaw tightened. "Stay close," he ordered the hostages, signaling them to follow.

Just as they stepped into the corridor, chaos erupted. Two men—Ruiz and Ortega—appeared at the far end, guns drawn. Their eyes widened in recognition.

"There!" Ruiz shouted, firing his weapon.

Ethan ducked behind a metal support beam, pulling the hostages back. The sound of gunfire echoed through the concrete hallways, sharp and deadly. Bullets ricocheted off the walls, dust falling from the ceiling with each hit. Ethan peered out, took aim, and fired a well-placed shot, dropping one of the approaching kidnappers with precision.

Ruiz kept firing as he moved closer, while Ortega barked orders to the men rushing in from the other end of the building. Ethan felt the pressure mounting. He had to act fast.

In one fluid motion, Ethan spun from his cover and unleashed a volley of shots. Ruiz staggered, a bullet catching him in the chest. His gun clattered to the ground as he fell, his face contorted in pain before going still.

Ortega, enraged, charged forward, firing relentlessly. Ethan dodged, his sharp reflexes keeping him just out of the line of fire, but Ortega wasn't giving up easily. One of his shots grazed Ethan's arm, causing him to hiss in pain. Gritting his teeth, Ethan kept moving, staying focused, his eyes locked on Ortega.

With a swift move, Ethan closed the distance, slipping behind cover just as Ortega's gun clicked empty. Ethan seized the opportunity. He emerged from his hiding spot, firing two precise shots—one hitting Ortega in the shoulder, the other in the leg. Ortega dropped to the ground, groaning in pain, struggling to raise his gun.

Ethan moved in, his expression cold and focused. He disarmed Ortega, knocking him out with a solid blow to the head. With no time to waste, he grabbed the ropes and cuffs used on the hostages and quickly bound Ortega's hands and legs.

He hoisted Ortega's limp form onto his shoulder. "Let's move!" he commanded the hostages, guiding them toward the exit while gunfire still echoed behind them.

As they neared the exit, the door leading to freedom was just meters away. But Ortega's men were closing in, their gunfire growing more intense. Ethan exchanged fire with them, keeping them at bay while moving the hostages toward safety.

Suddenly, the sleek, near-silent hum of the modified Range Rover filled the air as it pulled up, skidding to a stop right in front of them. The heavy vehicle blocked the line of fire, shielding Ethan and the hostages from the onslaught of bullets. The door swung open.

"Get in!" Ethan barked, his voice cutting through the chaos. He shoved Ortega into the back first, followed by Isabella's family. He fired another round, dropping one of the last kidnappers in his way before diving into the driver's seat.

Just as the Range Rover accelerated, Iris's voice came through in his earpiece, her tone urgent. "Sir, we have a problem—an armored motorcade just pulled in. More hostiles incoming."

Ethan cursed under his breath. Through the windscreen, he saw the motorcade—sleek, black SUVs—beginning to file into the compound.

"Brace yourselves," he muttered, slamming his foot on the accelerator. The Range Rover surged forward, barreling toward the gate just as the lead SUV pulled through. Ethan aimed for the front edge of the car, crashing into it with precision.

The SUV spun wildly from the impact, blocking the path of the other vehicles in the motorcade. The screech of tires filled the air as Ethan swerved out of the gate, accelerating onto the main road with the hostages secure inside.

Behind them, the remaining SUVs regrouped and roared after them, engines snarling as the chase began.