Chapter 47 - The Ambush at the Plaza
Arthur recognized the lethal determination in Emily's voice. He knew she was no longer a civilian he needed to coddle; she was a capable tactician who understood the brutal necessities of survival.
"What is the play, Emily?" Arthur asked, shifting his vehicle into high gear to reach the perimeter of the plaza.
"Sarah, I need a blind spot in the market," Emily instructed, navigating the stroller past a massive, splashing fountain. "Find me an alleyway without municipal camera coverage, preferably with only one exit."
"Turn left past the churro vendor," Sarah guided her swiftly. "There is a narrow service corridor between the bakery and the old cathedral walls. No cameras, no foot traffic. It’s a dead end."
"Perfect," Emily said. "Arthur, position yourself at the entrance of that corridor. Bring the zip-ties and the sedative."
Emily casually turned her stroller down the dark, narrow service corridor. The lively music of the plaza faded instantly, replaced by the damp smell of old stone and baking bread. She walked halfway down the alley and deliberately locked the wheels of the stroller. She unholstered her suppressed 9mm pistol from her concealed waist holster, keeping it hidden behind her leg.
She didn't have to wait long.
Mateo 'El Lobo' Silva rounded the corner of the alley, his footsteps light and purposeful. He saw Emily standing with her back to him at the dead end. Believing he had cornered his oblivious prey, he reached into his jacket, drawing a heavy tactical knife.
"You took a wrong turn, señora," El Lobo sneered, advancing on her with predatory confidence.
Emily didn't turn around immediately. "I don't think I did."
Before El Lobo could take another step, a massive, immovable shadow stepped into the entrance of the alley behind him, completely blocking his only escape route.
Arthur racked the slide of his own weapon with a sharp, terrifying clack. "Drop the knife, Mateo."
El Lobo froze, realizing he had walked directly into a fatal funnel. He spun around to face Arthur, but before he could even raise his blade, Emily pivoted on her heel with blinding speed. She brought the heavy steel frame of her pistol crashing down viciously against the back of El Lobo's skull.
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The cartel enforcer crumpled to the cobblestone floor, instantly unconscious.
"Target secured," Emily breathed, quickly holstering her weapon. "Let's get him to the warehouse."
