Chapter 4 The fight

As the two men cautiously approached Connor's direction, not knowing what to expect, Connor quickly picked up a shard of broken glass and tossed it in the opposite direction. The clattering distraction gave him the opening he needed. While the men turned to look away, he launched into action with acute precision. Connor swiftly disarmed and incapacitated the man closest to him who held the knife, knocking him out with a powerful blow before turning his attention to the second thug.

The next man threw a punch, which Connor easily blocked, but he was caught off guard by a knee to his jaw that followed. Both men paused in confusion-Connor, surprised that a thug had landed a good hit on him, and the thug, surprised Connor had gotten up so quickly.

"I see you're a tough man, amigo. Why did you think it was wise to come in here?" said the thug.

"I'm meant to be asking you that, chump," Connor replied, wiping the blood from his lips. "And don't think a sissy-ass kick like that could drop me. Now come at me, puto!"

The thug, enraged by Connor's insults, darted toward him. But this time, Connor was ready. With swift and decisive movements, he put the thug down, delivering a crushing blow that caused the man to hit his neck on a chair, killing him instantly.

"Shit!" Connor exclaimed.

He looked puzzled, realizing he had wanted the man alive for interrogation. Just as he was pondering his next action, the first thug began to wake up, catching Connor's attention. He walked over, picked the man up, and slammed him into a chair, tying him up with some extension cords he found nearby. Connor began slapping the man on the cheeks to wake him up, and as the thug came to, Connor started his interrogation.

"Why were you here?" Connor demanded.

The man looked Connor in the eyes, spat on his shoes, and smiled with his bloody teeth. This enraged Connor, who began to beat the thug to a pulp before halting himself. Stepping back, he asked again.

"Why did you come here? You guys killed Jim, right? What were you looking for?"

The thug looked up, too weak to smile now. "Please, I don't know anything. I was just sent to look for blue cover files. Please, I know nothing else."

"Who sent you to look for them?" Connor asked.

"He'll kill me if I say anything," the thug replied.

"And I won't?" Connor retorted. "You don't seem to understand my resolve on that matter. If you don't believe me, ask your friend over here." He gestured to the dead thug on the floor.

"Adiós, mijo," the thug muttered as he glanced at his fallen comrade. "Please don't kill me," he cried.

"Then start talking," Connor said.

"We work for Don Santino Jimenez. He sent us to recover those files. That was it. He never told us much. Questioning him means death," said the thug.

Connor wore a puzzled look, trying to recall where he had heard that name before. Then he had a moment of clarity-Jim had been killed because he had something these guys wanted. His train of thought was interrupted by a ringing sound from the thug's jacket. He took the phone from the jacket, answered the call, and waited for a response.

"¿Lo has encontrado?" (Have you found it?)

Connor cut the call and placed the phone in his pocket. Picking up his own phone, he proceeded to call the police. Twenty minutes later, the cops showed up. Connor was giving his statement when John pulled up on the scene. Seeing Connor, he began walking toward him.

"You should have called me first," John said to Connor.

"Didn't want to wake you from your beauty sleep," Connor mocked. "Look, I thought I told you not to have any funny ideas," John said, pulling him aside.

"It wasn't a robbery, John. Jim wasn't just robbed," Connor said. "And I think I know the man behind this."

John wore a surprised look on his face. "And who is that?" he asked.

"Don Santino," Connor said. "Those were his boys. He sent them to find something at Jim's."

John abruptly interrupted, "Don't go down that path, Connor. Keep his name out of your mouth. He's not someone you should mess around with."

Connor became angry. "I've told you already, don't tell me what to do. Since you police aren't doing anything, I might as well do it for you," he said, walking away angrily. He left the scene behind him as he moved toward his bike. Before he got on it, he got a text from Eva saying, "You free tomorrow?"

Connor stared at the message, feeling a moment of warmth amid the chaos. But his mind quickly returned to the pressing issue at hand. He had a name now-Don Santino Jimenez. It was a lead, and he intended to follow it.

As he rode through the city, his mind raced with thoughts of revenge and justice. The encounter with the thugs had been a stark reminder of the danger he was facing, but it had also fueled his determination. He needed to find out more about Don Santino, and he knew just the place to start.

Stopping by a nearby café, Connor parked his bike and walked inside. The dimly lit establishment was quiet, with only a few patrons scattered around. He approached the counter where a young barista was busy making coffee.

"Hey," Connor said, trying to sound casual. "Do you know anyone around here who might have information on a guy named Don Santino Jimenez?"

The barista looked up, her eyes widening slightly. "Don Santino? That's not a name you hear every day. Why do you want to know?"

Connor leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "I have some unfinished business with him. Any information would be helpful."

The barista hesitated for a moment before nodding. "There's a guy who comes in here sometimes. Goes by the name of Marco. He's got connections in all the wrong places. If anyone knows about Don Santino, it's him."

"Thanks," Connor said, slipping her a tip. "When does he usually come around?"

"Early mornings," she replied. "Around 4 a.m. You might catch him if you're lucky."

Connor nodded and found a seat in the corner of the café, keeping an eye on the door. As he waited, his thoughts drifted back to Eva. He wondered if she was safe, if those thugs would come after her for what she had witnessed. He made a mental note to check on her later, to make sure she was okay.

Hours passed slowly, but finally, around 4 a.m., a man walked in who fit the barista's description of Marco. Connor watched as he ordered a coffee and took a seat by the window. Taking a deep breath, Connor stood up and approached him.

"Marco?" he asked, sitting down across from him.

"Who's asking?" Marco replied, eyeing him suspiciously.

"My name's Connor. I need information on Don Santino Jimenez."

Marco leaned back, a smirk forming on his lips. "And why would I help you?"

Connor reached into his pocket and pulled out the thug's phone. "Because if you don't, I'll make sure Don Santino knows you've been talking to me."

Marco's eyes widened, and he quickly glanced around to make sure no one was listening. "Alright, alright. Keep your voice down. What do you want to know?"

"Everything," Connor said. "Where I can find him, what he's involved in, and why he wanted those files from Jim's place."

Marco sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Don Santino is a big player in the underground scene. Drugs, arms dealing, you name it. He's got his hands in everything. As for the files, I don't know exactly what they were, but they must be important if he's sending people to look for them."

"Where can I find him?" Connor pressed.

"He's got a few hideouts around the city, but your best bet is an old warehouse down by the docks. That's where he conducts most of his business. But be careful, it's heavily guarded."

Connor nodded, absorbing the information. "Thanks, Marco. You've been helpful."

"Just be careful," Marco said, a hint of genuine concern in his voice. "Don Santino isn't someone to mess with."

Connor left the café, his mind racing with the new information. He had a location now, a lead to follow. As he rode back to his apartment, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was getting closer to the truth, but also deeper into danger.

Later that morning, as Connor sat in his apartment, he reviewed his plan. He would scout out the warehouse later that day, gathering more information before making any moves. But for now, he needed rest. His body was still sore from the fight, and he knew he had to be at his best to face what was coming.

Before going to bed, Connor sent a quick reply to Eva's message: "Yeah, I'm free. Let's meet up." He felt a sense of relief at the thought of seeing her again, a brief moment of normalcy in his chaotic life.

As he lay in bed, Connor's mind drifted back to Jim. He thought of all the lessons Jim had taught him, the values he had instilled in him. Connor knew that whatever happended, he was prepared for it.