Chapter9:The Heat of the Battle

Sofia responded, her voice low but firm, "We can't hesitate." Her eyes were focused, deliberate as she started the second attack wave moving. Michael is not going to wait for us to act morally. We made first strike. 

Rafael watched her and his chest constricted. Once someone he had admired from a distance, Sofia Alvarez was turning into someone else totally, someone merciless, someone ready to give anything to keep control. That still was the Sofia he knew? 

The door opened before he could express the uncertainty still hovering at the rear of his consciousness. One of Sofia's most reliable lieutenants, Julian arrived angrily with a grimace. "Sofia, the eastern border is being closed in on. The skirmish has claimed a few men. 

Sofia's facial expression stayed the same. "Get the backup set up." We call this off right immediately. 

Though he knew his uncertainty wouldn't be appreciated here, Rafael wanted to speak up to ask whether there was another way. Her world today was this one. Here he had decided to stand. 

Out there, distant gunfire broke through. The fight was under way already. As the strain in the room grew, Rafael's heart hammered. Sofia had made clear: the Alvarez family's empire was on the line and they would either rise or fall today. 

Moments later, the street below echoed with a great crash. Rafael spotted it through the window, a burst of gunshots accompanied by engine sound. Michael had found his mark. He was in route for them. Usually the sound of visitors and bright lights, the streets of Las Vegas now belonged to the warriors fighting overseas. 

Sofia said, "Stay close," pivoting abruptly on her heel. She moved with the simplicity of someone who has lived a lifetime under cover. Rafael trailed, his body stiff as the weight of his choice sank into his bones. He was going to enter a fight he could no longer walk away from. 

Then, as they arrived at the front doors, the air shook with explosions, then the piercing crack of gunfire. It was going on right now. There would not be a retreat. 

Rafael spotted a flash of movement amid the turmoil, a shadow running from one side to the other. And then an explosion, the force of which knocked him flat. The world around him seemed to slow while the loud noise drowned out everything save the taste of adrenaline and terror. 

He tried to get up, but before he could a gathering of guys surrounded him. Their weapons directed at his chest, they moved precisely. Michael's staff. 

The voice of Sofia cut across the smoke. "Get away from there!" 

Michael stood before him, a smile all across his face. "Did you really think you could walk into our world and not pay the price?" His tone was subdued, sarcastic. 

Though Rafael's ideas were foggy, he knew one thing for sure: Sofia was out there, battling for her life, and he had now become the ideal negotiating tool. 

"What do you want?" Rafael inquired, his voice strained, but his eyes held unflinching fire. 

Michael's smile opened out more. "I want Sofia to realize nobody is untouchable. Not even hers." 

Rafael's gut started to turn over. This went beyond simply authority now. This was about shattering Sofia's spirit and breaking her down till only devastation remained. And he was among that ruin now. 

The idea of her, Sofia, hurt his heart. The woman who had show him a world he was unable to undo. He realized he was not ready for this and could feel the weight of his decisions. The other choice was worse, though. 

Michael walked in front of him, obviously loving the power. "You wish to know all this time what I have been organizing? It goes beyond simply assuming leadership of her empire. It's about her being destroyed. destroying her. You are just started. 

Rafael stared straight ahead at Michael. If you believe you can break her, you are a fool. 

Michael let out gloomy laughter. "We'll see about it. What will she do to save you? is the question. 

Her eyes flicked over him once, then glanced to Michael, who was standing close and confident of his triumph. 

Michael responded, "Don't worry," his voice a sneer. "You aren't dead yet. But this will be the cost she bears for her conceit. 

Sofia moved with deliberate steps, her eyes never straying from him. You believe this will break me? Though her voice was subdued, it suggested devastation. 

Rafael's thoughts still whirling from the trauma of being caught in the crossfire, he had no idea what to reply. His feelings, anxiety, treachery, a weird need to guard her, twisted within him. But that instant everything had changed. No obvious road back was available. 

Sofia sat down in front of him and said, "I won't let you die," her hands lightly touching his face. 

Rising just behind her, Rafael said nothing. He had never participated in a campaign this kind before. His typically professional and orderly world seemed far away. There were not any promises here. Every stride and every breath might be the last. 

"You ready for this?," asks Sofia's words cut over the stillness, yet Rafael could see the tempest behind her composed front. 

Rafael swallowed, his spine trenched in the familiar surge of nerves. His voice low, he said, "I'm not sure whether anyone ever really is." 

Her lips drew into a half-smile, but there was no warmth behind it. "Let's make sure this is the last time we fight to survive.." 

The strategy was straightforward: breach Michael's stronghold, save Rafael, and leave no space for reprisals. But not anymore; nothing in this world was straightforward. 

When the call came in Sofia's crew was already ready to go. Julian's voice piercing and terrified cracked across the radio. 

"They are arriving. Full power. Get out right now, Sofia! 

She was not hesitant or flinches. She flung on her coat quickly, the dark cloth flowing like a shadow. "We move," she said, her voice like a razor. "We wrap up tonight." 

Rafael trailed behind her, his hand gliding over the side holstered gun. The weapon's cold steel served as simply a reminder of how far he had travelled into this planet, not any solace. The world in which devotion was exchanged on the blood of others, and family meant nothing. 

The sound of far-off gunfire resonated across the building as they left. War had started. 

The streets of Las Vegas were not at all the brilliant lights visitors encountered. Here the underworld was always hiding in the shadows, felt in the crunch of gravel underfoot, the creak of metal gates, the gleam of weapons hidden in the hands of men who lived and died by their loyalties. 

They arrived at the car; the engine hummed low, steady buzz in the background. Sofia slid easily into the driver's seat, the flickering headlights casting sharp lines from her profile. Her hands clenched white with pressure on the wheel. 

Rafael felt the automobile jerk forward, the abrupt surge of speed nearly vertiginous. Sofia said nothing; her eyes were forward, but he could see the fire blazing under her composure. She was battling for everything she had created, not merely for her life. 

The radio buzzed to life once more, then. A deep voice, twisted but clearly identifiable. 

"Sofia, this is only starting point. You have really made a mistake. 

Michael went first. Rafael felt the usual cold run down his spine. He intended no ending of this war. 

Sofia's eyes gleamed with rage. He believes he could break me. She pounded her fist on the driving wheel. "Let's confirm he regrets that." 

Sofia swirled violently to evade the approaching attack after slamming the car into reverse. Every strike of the bullet sounded off the metal, the automobile trembled. Rafael held the edge of his seat, attempting to ground himself against the anarchy all around. 

"Get out!," Still hardly looking at him, Sofia yelled. "We have not time for this!" 

Rafael stopped just a split second. Though every instinct in him cried to flee and hide, he was unable to leave her. Not today. not throughout everything's disintegration at the margins. 

The automobile came to a screaming stop. The door flew open, and they both leaped into the streets, escaping approaching fire. 

It was all they had left, yet they headed toward the safe house, a run-down warehouse buried in the rear streets of the city. Sofia flowed with the shadow, her body fluid every gesture deliberate. Rafael battled to keep up; his breath was heavy in his chest, but his concentration never faltered. 

Once indoors, Sofia slammed the door behind them, locking it with the haste of someone who had done this too many times before. 

Rafael caught his breath and his thoughts flew. They hardly advanced more than Michael's soldiers did. Stuck in the heart of the battlefield that the streets of Las Vegas had turned into was development. 

Sofia looked at him for a moment, her expression insumutable. She had always been the one in charge, the one with dignity. Now, however? She was then as much a victim of the war as he was. 

She said softly, "We can't trust anyone anymore." 

Rafael choked hard, his eyes racing over the city map laid on the table. Now, every name, every face, every line on the page meant something; loyalty was brittle and trust was a currency running low. 

Sofia turned to him, her face worn with tiredness, but her will unwavering. We are on this together. We survive among each other. 

Rafael nodded, but somewhere in his breast a fresh uncertainty started to bloom. Trust was something even he wasn't sure he could afford anymore; the adversary was closer than they had ever known. 

The phone on the tabletop buzzed then. Sofia picked it after her eyes closed. Her face went white the once she came upon the letter. 

She said, beneath her breath, "It's not just Michael."