Chapter 90: The Midnight Imperium (2)

One year later.

Seville, Spain.

Rain fell over the Andalusia countryside in a light drizzle.

Beyond the distant glow of the city, an enormous estate sat behind layers of security. High walls surrounded the mansion. Cameras watched every entrance. Armed guards patrolled the grounds at carefully timed intervals.

The mansion itself rose from the center of the compound. It sat atop a hill, looking more like a fortress than a home.

This was where Rafael Santos lived.

He was a renowned kingpin in the Spanish criminal underworld, involved in drug trafficking, illegal weapon’s trade, extortion, and human smuggling.

Politicians owed him favors, law enforcement officers looked the other way for him, and judges were on his payroll. Even other criminal organizations paid him for protection.

But that was in the past.

Over the past few months, Rafael had almost been killed five times. He had a fallout with the Spanish Mafia and they’ve wanted him dead ever since.

He survived all the assassination attempts, but had become extremely paranoid. That was why he had turned his home into a fortress.

And Scar had to find way to get into that fortress. Because tonight, he had been given his first solo mission:

Kill Rafael Santos.

He sat on a tree across from the estate, hidden beneath the branches of the tree and hood of a dark jacket. He was thirteen now. But still small, still thin, still easy to underestimate.

He stared at the mansion. But he did not move.

For almost twenty minutes, he just stood there, watching, analyzing. The rain dripped from the edge of his hood, tracing a slow path down his face. He didn’t blink. He didn’t shift his weight. He just watched.

The guards in the estate changed positions from time to time.

Scar counted them.

There were two at the main entrance of the mansion, one patrolling the eastern wall, and three around the garage.

He watched their movements again.

Then again.

He memorized the pattern of the guards, studying the time interval each guard took to move from place to place.

Then after a while, he moved.

Scar descended from the tree and crossed the road. His footsteps were silent against the wet floor... the rain swallowing every sound. He reached the base of the estate wall without making a noise. He found a small section where the stonework of the wall protruded just enough to provide leverage.

Without hesitation, he began climbing. His arms burned with the effort as he did, but he didn’t stop.

Eventually, he crested the wall and dropped silently onto the other side.

The guard that was patrolling the wall approached just as Scar anticipated, a rifle slung over his shoulder, his eyes scanning the darkness. His footsteps were steady and rhythmic; a pattern Scar had already memorized.

He waited, his body pressed against the wall, his breath shallow. He counted the guard’s footsteps.

One. Two. Three.

On the third count, the guard passed, and Scar attacked immediately. His hand shot out, grabbing the guard’s mouth, muffling his groans first. Then, he mercilessly drove his knife into the man’s throat.

Shnk!

The guard’s eyes went wide, his body convulsing before going limp.

Scar eased him to the ground, dragging the body into a corner. Then, he moved on, making sure to avoid the garage and main entrance where more guards were stationed.

He needed to find a different path of entry.

After a short while, he found one. A side entrance into the mansion

But a guard was stationed there, leaning against the wall. He held a cigarette in his hand, exhaling a plume of grey smoke into the rain.

Scar approached from behind, his footsteps silent, his knife held in a reverse grip.

The guard turned, sensing something approaching. But it was too late.

Scar bolted forward and buried his knife in the man’s right eye socket... a clean, brutal thrust that killed him instantly. The man let out a ragged, final gasp, before crumpling to the ground.

Scar caught the guard’s body before it could hit the floor, lowering it carefully without a sound. After hiding the corpse behind a bush, he proceeded to enter the mansion through the now-clear side entrance.

The inside of the mansion was almost unnaturally quiet.

It was adorned with marble floors, expensive paintings, and furniture that cost more than most people’s homes.

The first floor was enormous. A grand foyer stretched before him, a sweeping staircase rising toward the upper levels. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting cold, glittering light across the polished marble.

As Scar stopped beneath the staircase, he heard footsteps approaching. He quickly moved into a nearby hallway, pressing his back against the wall.

Two guards appeared, speaking quietly to each other in Spanish. They were relaxed, their posture loose. They didn’t expect trouble.

Scar waited until they separated.

The first entered a room.

Scar followed, swiftly entering before the door closed.

Inside, the guard had barely even noticed he wasn’t alone in the room when Scar crept up behind him and slit his throat. Blood sprayed across the wall. The man died without even knowing his assaulted.

Scar eased him to the floor, and wiped his blade on the man’s shirt.

He stepped out of the room.

The second guard was standing at the end of the hallway. He turned around the moment Scar came out of the room.

Their eyes met.

The guard’s eyes widened. His hand immediately flew toward his holster.

Scar didn’t give him the chance to take out his gun. He closed the distance in two strides and engaged the guard.

The guard swung a wild punch but Scar slipped underneath the strike, his smaller frame giving him an advantage. He drove his elbow into the man’s ribs, then grabbed him by the collar and slammed his face into the wall. The guard staggered, his nose shattered by the impact.

Scar didn’t give him time to recover. He quickly grabbed the man’s head and twisted sharply.

Snap.

His neck broke and he died instantly.

Scar released him, glancing toward the staircase.

He had two floors to clear before reaching his target.

He climbed the stairs and headed up towards the first floor.