Ramzi's headquarters for his gang and the potential member who had shot Captain Salem was in a province called El Biar. El Biar was in the center of the city of Algiers, accessible with direct routes to every other province. It had one of the best ice cream stores in the area, pastry shops, a respected university, and to top it all off, it was a well taken care of area, with street cleaners and garbage collectors rolling through the neighborhood on Mondays and Thursdays.
Zayn had paid for a white sedan who drove for Yassir, a mobile taxi company. The driver was a middle aged man, bald, with a thick English accent. He asked how Zayn was doing, what he liked to do in Algeria on weekends, and if he had plans to leave the country. All of his questions met a short, concise response. No harm, no foul.
With the money in hand, Zayn handed the white and red bill to the taxi driver, denied the small change back, then exited the car right in front of the supposed headquarters of Ramzi's gang.
Soraya and Volkan were standing leaned against the right and left side of the gray three story building's black front door. Both of them wore black masks, which made Zayn wear his as he exited the taxi. He shook Volkan's hand, who then pulled him closer and patted his back.
"I'm sorry about your father." Volkan said. Zayn could smell his cologne and liked the natural, forest infused wooden smell it gave off. "He'll survive. He has to."
Soraya smiled the sympathetic smile. "We'll all visit him after this."
"Right," Zayn said, stepping to the door. He tried twisting the door knob but it was locked, and right before Volkan could suggest something, Zayn kicked the empty space surrounding the doorknob, its weakest point. He felt the latch crack. Zayn shoved himself through the door without waiting.
They saw an empty first floor, large and gray. Bars and pebbles and pieces of furniture laid across the cement floor. None of the ceiling lights worked. Perhaps it could've been a company office or lounge area, but at that point in time, it was the first floor to a gang's headquarters.
"I like the aggressive entry without any planning. Very un-Zayn-like," Soraya added.
"Get inside before people actually realize we're breaking in," Volkan said. He pushed Soraya in and then pulled the black entrance door in. "I get it's your father we're investigating, but let's walk through what we're going to do once we run into the gang above us." He pointed to the second floor with a raised bushy eyebrow. "You understand we're outnumbered, oui?"
"Do I have white eyes?" Zayn asked them out of the blue. He stood straight and breathed a little heavy.
"What?" Volkan reached for his phone and turned his flashlight on; Soraya did the same. He stepped closer to Zayn. "No, you don't have white eyes. What the hell are you saying, Zayn? You good?" He tapped his friend's head and laughed.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I just wanted someone to tell me that."
"I've never seen you with anything other than brown eyes," Soraya added.
If his friends said he didn't have them, he believed them. He wasn't blind. He wasn't going blind. He cleared his throat then pointed at the staircase to his left across the first floor, where he saw broken wood on the ground, debris hanging from the ceiling along with dangling light cables.
"Once we get to their lounge on the third floor, look for someone wearing all black," Zayn said. "They might've came here to hide. I'm not a hundred on it, though."
"And what's stopping them from attacking us after they realize we broke into their place?" Volkan asked. "If this situation isn't letting you think clearly, Zayn, then let me handle it because you're—"
"I got it!" Zayn shouted. "Don't doubt me!" He faced the stairs to his left. "There's this feeling that we'll be fine."
"A feeling?!" Volkan yelled. "We're risking our lives on a feeling?!" He swung his hands up and glanced at Soraya, who he could barely see before raising his cellphone's flashlight. He mouthed at her asking if Zayn was serious.
"You've never let us down before," she answered out loud. "He's got a plan."
"I heard his plan! His plan is to ask questions and then do nothing if they decide to attack us!" Volkan exhaled and spun in place as he tried to calm himself.
"Look," Zayn said, already about ten to fifteen feet away from his friends. "We'll get out of here untouched." He glanced over his right shoulder at Volkan and Soraya. "I'd never lead you two into something we couldn't leave untouched. Trust me." Volkan and Soraya could see Zayn's eyes and tell they were open, so when he blinked in the dimness of the room and two white glowing circles appeared, they didn't believe what they saw.
Zayn's white eyes only lasted a second. He then faced the stairs ahead and walked across the first floor. Soraya looked at Volkan who stood motionless with an open mouth. They both nodded at each other when they saw Zayn about to climb up the stairs. They couldn't let him go up alone, even though they wanted to check on his eyes again, even though they stood in disbelief at what they saw or at least what they thought they saw.
"White eyes," Volkan asked. "You saw them, right?"
"Come on. We can check upstairs," Soraya said, nodding her head but urging both herself and Volkan to focus on the situation at hand, because Zayn had walked into a den of wolves, and just because the leader of the wolves, Ramzi, knew Zayn, it didn't mean his gang members wouldn't fight or even kill them. "Right now, he needs us."
Volkan punched his palm. "Right. Let's find out who attached his father."
The three of them made it to the third floor. Zayn pushed it open and entered a large open floor plan, which had a steel, gray kitchen along the left side wall, with tables and chairs a few feet across from the kitchen, a lounge area of white and gray bean bags, light brown chairs, black coffee tables, with snacks and cookies in packages on top.
About twenty or so of Ramzi's gang members glanced at the opened door and watched Zayn, Soraya and Volkan step into the floor. Some members were eating cookies, some sat on the chairs by the kitchen with sandwiches in hand and in their mouths, while a few sat in the lounge area on their phones, glancing at the unrecognized people standing in their gang's headquarters. All of them were dressed in their own outfits, not in black or white hoodies but in t-shirts, shorts, long-sleeved shirts jeans, tank tops and the occasional hoodie.
"Who the hell are you?!" a gang member shouted. His voice echoed so pinpointing where it came from was impossible.
Zayn strolled into the lounge area, as if it he owned it, as if he didn't have threats all around him. He made eye contact with every single gang member he saw, whether it was aggressive or calm in nature. As he continued his walk, Soraya and Volkan took point at his rear and stood in the center near the tables. They kept watch over the floor for any threats and attacks.
Then Zayn walked past three other gang members who had stood up with glares. He glanced at their fists and saw them all clenched, veins visible, gearing to fight. Two of three gang members had black tattoos on their knuckles along with the one on their necks.
A glass cup fell and broke on the floor. Zayn followed the noise left near the middle of the floor. All the gang members had turned to see what the noise was while Soraya and Volkan continued surveying the area and paid special attention to the three gang members standing beside Zayn in case they attacked his blindside. They even stepped their way closer and closer to Zayn subtly to not draw his attention.
"Watch it!" Volkan yelled. "I see you!"
"Get up and show me your face!" Zayn ordered, staring at the chair. "We all heard you."
Within five seconds, someone dressed in all black stood, hoodie on, with their back towards Zayn and everyone else staring. Soraya remembered the description Zayn had given her and instantly smacked Volkan's right bicep.
"Now!" Zayn yelled, anger in his voice.
The person dressed in black turned and faced Zayn. She had tanned skin, a small nose, big brown eyes, black hair, and thin eyebrows. She looked maybe seventeen or older. Zayn didn't care. He assumed she shot his father. Without evidence. Without a statement.
"You." Zayn stepped forward. "Why'd you shoot my father?"
The girl bit her lower lip. Flustered, she stared at everyone from the kitchen behind Zayn to the corners of the floor but not at Zayn. She had one tattoo on her neck. Ramzi's gang identifier. Inexperienced, maybe. Once someone has been in the game of drug dealing for long enough, there's a certain look Zayn had found in everyone's eyes that involved themselves in the world of drugs. The girl didn't have that look. She must've been new to the gang.
"Who told you to do it? I know you just didn't wake up today and decide to shoot him. Tell me and I won't break all of your bones." Zayn took another step forward, which caused the girl's eyes to widen and her breathing to turn erratic. Her shoulders raised up then down in the standoff with Zayn.
"You shot Zayn's father, Ella?" another of Ramiz's gang members asked, voice coming from the left of the floor.
"You're dead," another person commented.
"No, she's not. He's not touching anyone of our members. He's in our territory now." Zayn glanced right and saw a bald guy with a colorful snake tattoo on the left side of his neck, stopping with the snake's fangs around his ears. He didn't recognize him and nor did he know if he should've taken him seriously. His name was Adam, and unbeknownst to Zayn, Adam was second in command of Ramzi's drug dealing gang. "Killing Zayn Raiz from the game gives us your customers and territory. Opens a lot of deals up for Ramzi, too."
"Good for you," Zayn answered, eyes only focused on the girl who shot his father. "I'm not here to waste time." He raised his left hand into the air and snapped his fingers, and right on signal, Soraya and Volkan drew their weapons hidden beneath their clothes. Soraya held a sub machine gun, a UMP variant, while Volkan shot his 9 millimeter pistol at Adam's bicep area to minimize the chance of him using a gun and shooting Zayn.
Adam bawled in pain. Other gang members ducked, stepped back, or rased their arms in the air to show they were unarmed. And in the middle of the chaos, Zayn charged and tackled the his father's shooter. He pinned her to the ground, his left hand gripped tightly on both of her hands pressed against her stomach, while Zayn's other hand had choked the girl until her eyes turned red and wet. He released his hold, listening to her cough and inhale, cough and inhale in tears of panic.
"Who ordered you to shoot my father?!" Zayn asked Ella again.
"You move, I shoot you!" Volkan shouted. "Any of you thinking of doing something stupid are going to regret!"
Soraya side stepped to the left away from Volkan for an alternate angle. She held her sub machine gun close to her upper body, slightly hunched over and in constant aim position, trigger finger hovering and ready to fire.
"You piece of—" Adam shouted. "I''ll get you!"
With the situation in lock down, Zayn didn't bother checking his back or helping control the situation. He kept Ella pinned with a grip on her neck. "Answer me! Who ordered you?!"
"Someone! I don't know!" she shouted. Ella's red eyes teared more and more. "Someone gave me a cell phone and the person talking said I had to follow his orders or the military would come after me. The orders were that I go buy the drugs then to follow Captain Salem until he went into a store. After I did what I had to, I ran. I'd get paid and that was it."
"Someone from the military ordered you to kill my father?" Zayn tightened his grip on Ella's neck. "You're lying."
"No," she replied, barely able to force the word out. "I'm not." Zayn lessened his grip the girl's fragile neck. "On the phone . . . the guy told me to shoot Captain Salem in the side then plant the drugs." She coughed. "I swear. I—I also heard him give orders to someone else. That's all I know."
"Why would they . . ." Zayn thought to himself until something clicked, an idea that sounded insane but could've well been reality. If the person who put the hit on Zayn's father wanted him dead, then Ella would have shot him in the heart. She seemed like she would've been able to do it. But that wasn't her order. Why? Why plant the drugs in Captain Salem? To ruin his career? To trap him?
Zayn turned to Soraya and Volkan. "The hospital! We have to get back to the hospital!"
"You ain't going anywhere!" Ramzi yelled. He stood outside the doors of the staircase. He had two women with him wearing black suits with long black hair in ponytails. All three of them held pistols.
Zayn stood and turned, followed by Soraya and Volkan.
"You come in here thinking you're above everyone else! Pull guns out on my members in my base!" Ramzi's face reddened and it looked like he'd pop a blood vessel if he didn't calm down. "Disrespect comes at a price, Zayn! And I'm about to show you what it is!"
"Let it go, Ramzi. I'm looking for who shot my father. Nothing else," Zayn answered.
"Your father can die for all I care. And you'll follow him soon. Because you dying makes my business a lot easier." Ramzi grinned. He grabbed his gold necklace with his free left hand and kissed it. "You and your friends are going to die here. But don't worry, I'll keep the deals and the products going."
That was the moment Zayn felt a drop in his heart, a cooldown in his anger, and a realization that he was in trouble. He wasn't expecting Ramzi to appear, for him to turn on him. He actually believed Ramzi would've understood Zayn's situation.
"Tie 'em up!" Ramzi ordered. All the gang members on the third floor creeped towards them in a circle, forcing Soraya and Volkan to turn and step backwards to Zayn's location.
"We're trapped . . ." Volkan said.
"We maybe enough bullets to spray our way out. But we might not even make it to the doors." Soraya exhaled.
Zayn had nothing to say. His anger and impatience placed him in that situation. The one thing he feared the most was now right in front of him: he was the reason the lives of his friends were in danger.
"Our only chance is to shoot our way out," Volkan said.
"Sounds like it," Soraya agreed. She stood to the left of Zayn, and Volkan stood to Zayn's right.
Then the doors behind Ramzi flew open with a gust of wind following, lifting chairs and tables up and slamming the furniture against the walls and the ceiling. Ramzi stumbled forward and so did his two body guards and nearby gang members. An eerie cold draft entered, frigid with an aura of death.
From out of the staircase stepped out the same gang member who was in the alley earlier, the one Zayn had punched and the one who had ran away and jumped over the wall. Same clothes, same hair, but his eyes. The gang member's eyes glowed white.
Shivers climbed all over Zayn's body. His fingers twitched, his palms full of sweat, with fear consuming him. But that fear quickly faded after hearing a familiar voice.
"Do not worry. You have me. You and I are now one. Omayra spoke in Zayn's head. Her voice calmed Zayn, like a whisper of confidence, a whisper of defense. "It is time to feast."
High pitched screeches and growls flooded the third floor as a cloud of darkness engulfed the entire floor. Shouts, pleas for mercy and banging followed. Then guns shots. Silence for what Zayn counted was five seconds. One more gun shot. The darkness in the room dissipated, and as the shadow mist dissipated like morning fog, Ramzi laid on the ground in a puddle of his own blood. His guards, too. The other gang members in the room also seemed to be dead.
Soraya and Volkan stood with their guns at their sides. They scanned the entire floor and couldn't believe what had just happened. When they finished and locked eyes with Zayn, all three of them exhaled with relief that they would survive, that they weren't going to die, even though what had just happened didn't make any logical sense.
"You must elevate the way you think, young Zayn. This journey of yours, blood hounds will hunt, and one mistake will bring death to your bedside. I prefer to keep death distracted."
Zayn noticed the gang member with white eyes still standing across by the doors of the staircase. His eyes faded into darkness and then he fell face first to the ground.
"This is the power of Omayra."