Captive Heart Episode 2: Leverage

VALENTINA

The bullhorn crackled again.

"¿Me escuchas? We have the perimeter secured. Come out now and no one gets hurt."

Dominic didn't answer.

He stood near the entrance, one hand resting against the stone, listening. He didn't move. He just stood there, as if he had all the time in the world and Ramírez was only an annoyance.

I watched him.

He wasn't simply waiting.

He was measuring.

Every few seconds his eyes moved toward an entrance, a guard, a hostage, the windows high above us.

Then I noticed the blood.

The middle-aged man in the yellow linen shirt lay slumped near the far wall, blood soaking through his hair and pooling on the stone from a severe scalp laceration. He had struck his head hard when the gunmen swept through. He lay completely unresponsive, his deep unconsciousness raising fears that the trauma ran far deeper than a bleeding surface cut.

Too still.

Dear Lord, he is going to bleed out right there, I thought.

I looked at Dominic.

"He needs help."

Dominic glanced toward me.

"What?"

"The man in yellow."

He looked.

"He's bleeding badly."

"I know."

"Then why isn't anyone helping him?"

His expression hardened.

"Because everyone who moves becomes a target."

"He'll die if he stays there."

Dominic said nothing.

I looked at him.

"A dead hostage isn't leverage, is it?"

His eyes narrowed.

"You've been listening."

"I have ears."

That almost earned me a smile.

Almost.

He turned away.

"Get the medical kit."

One of the men moved.

"Jefe—"

"Now."

The man hurried away.

I exhaled.

Then another voice came from behind Dominic.

"What is she doing?"

The angry man from before.

Andres.

He stepped into the alcove.

His eyes were on me.

Then on Dominic.

"Why are you letting her talk?"

Dominic turned and faced Andres with a cold, direct stare.

"Lower the rifle," he said.

Andres did not move.

"I said lower it, or I will put you down."

Dominic's voice remained flat and quiet.

For a moment I thought Andres might refuse. I saw the barrel of the gun stay frozen for a tense beat.

Then, slowly, the barrel of the gun tilted toward the floor.

Dominic walked toward him.

"You don't get to make that call."

Andres's jaw tightened.

"You don't get to make any call in here that I haven't already made."

The silence between them was more frightening than shouting.

Andres finally stepped back.

Dominic turned away.

The medical kit arrived.

He pointed toward the wounded man.

"Leave it beside him. Don't touch him."

I stared at him.

"You aren't going to help him?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I'm responsible for everyone in this room."

His eyes met mine.

"That includes you."

I didn't know what to make of that.

He walked away before I could ask.

A few minutes later, Andres crossed the chamber.

Not toward the medical kit.

Toward the wounded man.

I saw it before I fully understood it, and my stomach tightened.

Andres's shoulders stiffened, his chin dropped. All pretense of compliance drained out of him, replaced by cold intent.

My breath caught. I started to step forward but then stopped myself. I was too far away, and I had no weapon. But I couldn't do nothing.

"Andres."

He ignored me.

He raised his rifle.

Dominic turned.

"Don't."

Andres looked toward him.

"You want to negotiate with the wolves outside?" he asked. "Maybe they need proof we're serious."

He pointed the rifle at the wounded man's head.

My heart stopped.

Dominic moved. He crossed the open floor with urgent, purposeful strides. His hand dropped to his sidearm, hovered over the grip, then fell away.

"Put it down."

Dominic halted six feet away from Andres, his jaw locked tight as he squared his shoulders.

"You pull that trigger," Dominic said, "and Ramírez blasts through those doors. You want to die in here to prove a point? Go ahead. But you die alone."

Andres smiled.

Then he fired.

The shot exploded through the chamber.

Someone screamed - not in agony, but in terror. Stone shattered beside the wounded man's head.

I heard a high, eerie whine that I didn't at first understand. Then I realized the round was caroming off the ancient walls, bouncing from surface to surface in chaotic flight.

Dominic dropped into a crouch, swearing. The hostages flattened themselves to the floor, For the moment more afraid of the wild bullet than the gunmen.

The bullet eventually lost momentum, the sharp hum dying against the ceiling. Dominic did not rush forward. He stayed frozen in his low stance, chest rigid, staring at the fresh gouge carved into the pillar inches from where his own flank had been. When he straightened, I thought I saw him tremble. If he did, the moment of weakness was gone before I could fully register it.

He did not throw a punch. He closed the remaining distance between them and stepped into Andres's space, stopping bare inches from the muzzle.

Andres met his gaze, but the bravado seemed to sputter out under the absolute stillness of Dominic's eyes.

Slowly, Andres lowered the barrel toward the dirt, his jaw clenched in burning humiliation. Yet I saw his white-knuckled hands remain clamped around the steel.

Dominic didn't raise his voice.

"One inch higher," he said, his voice flat, terrifyingly quiet, "and you bury your own people. Test me again and I end you."

Andres held his ground, breathing hard. I saw him look past Dominic toward the other men along the wall, seeking even a nod of support, but they averted their eyes, falling into rigid, silent alignment behind Dominic. No one moved to back him.

Dominic did not blink.

“There's a corridor behind that door,” he said gesturing with his chin. "Scout it. stay in the dark, look for a back access, and do not let me see your face until I call you."

Andres stared at him.

"Dominic—"

"Now."

Andres's jaw clenched until the muscle jumped, but something in Dominic's face made him obey.

Through locked teeth, he gave a stiff jerk of his chin. He turned on his heel and dragged his boots into the shadows of the rear tunnel, his knuckles still white around the rifle grip.

I watched Andres disappear into the shadows.

Then I looked at Dominic. He stood alone in the center of the silent room.

"You knew he'd do that." It wasn't a question.

"No," he said.

"But you expected him to try something."

Dominic didn't answer.

That was answer enough.

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