Chapter 5 The Serpent's Lair

Pablo stood over the thief, his gaze icy and unblinking. The thief, strapped tightly to the chair, couldn't hide the fear in his eyes. His breath was shaky, and he was starting to sweat, hands clenched tightly against the leather straps as if he might somehow break free.

"Listen, pal," Pablo said, his voice low and dangerous, like a warning. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way. One way or another, you're going to tell us what we want to know." Pablo leaned in, his gloved hand gripping the back of the chair, his face close enough for the thief to feel his cold breath.

The thief squirmed, trying to pull his arms free, his voice trembling. "I don't know what you're talking about," he stammered, looking frantically from Pablo to the others in the room.

Without a word, Pablo signaled to Doctor Wallace, who stepped forward with a syringe. Doctor Wallace pressed the needle into the thief's arm, his movements calm and precise. The thief flinched, feeling the cold liquid spreading through his veins.

"What? why are you doing that?" he asked, panicking as he watched the doctor withdraw the syringe. His words came out in gasps, his fear spiking with every second.

Pablo leaned closer; his face dark with satisfaction. "Now, you can spit on my face again. That, my friend, is truth serum," he said, his tone almost amused. "And you're going to tell us everything we need to know, and there's nothing you can do about it."

As the serum began to take effect, the thief's eyes became distant and glassy. His head drooped slightly, and his words started to come out slowly, blending together. "What do you want to know?" he mumbled, struggling to focus.

Pablo leaned in close, his gaze sharp and he asked right away. "Who sent you to steal The Avante?" he demanded, his voice firm, pressing the thief to answer.

The thief's eyes darted around the room in a hazy panic. "I don't know anything," he slurred, trying to resist the effects.

Pablo's face darkened with impatience. He reached out, gripping the thief's jaw in his gloved hand, tightening his grip as if he might crush it if he didn't get a straight answer. "Don't play dumb. You're going to speak up, and you're going to do it fast."

Doctor Wallace glanced at the monitor showing the thief's vitals. "Ease up, Pablo," he said calmly, "the serum's taking effect. He'll talk."

Pablo, with a small nod, released his grip, stepping back just slightly, though his eyes never left the thief's face.

The thief's voice became monotone, almost robotic. "I'll tell you everything." His words poured out, the fight draining from him. "Carlos Bontade sent us. He's the one...he ordered us to steal The Avante."

Pablo's eyes narrowed as he took in the confession. "Where do we find Carlos Bontade?" he asked, his voice still a low, threatening growl.

The thief, now fully under the serum's spell, blinked sluggishly before answering. "Carlos...he stays in his house on Mika dell Avenue, fifth mansion from the west...only goes out at night. He likes...to play poker at Chicka Rosa." His words flowed out with no hesitation, as if some invisible force pushed them from his mouth.

A look of satisfaction crossed Pablo's face. "That's more like it," he muttered, pleased with the information.

As the serum began to wear off, the thief's eyes slowly regained their focus. Blinking, he realized what he had just revealed. His face turned pale with shock, lips parting as the weight of his betrayal sank in. He looked at Pablo and Doctor Wallace, fear flooding his expression as he realized the depth of his mistake.

Pablo gave the thief a light pat on the shoulder, a faint, almost mocking smile on his face. "You did the right thing, friend. Now, you're just going to take a little nap," he said, his voice low but oddly reassuring.

Doctor Wallace stepped forward, holding another syringe. Without hesitation, he pressed it gently into the thief's arm, and within moments, the thief's eyes closed, his body going slack as he drifted into unconsciousness.

Turning to his soldiers, Pablo gave a nod. "Get him to the seventh cell," he instructed. "And bring in the rest, one by one. Let's see if they all point to the same man."

The soldiers lifted the thief's limp body, hoisting him up by his arms. Their grip was firm, unbreakable, and with practiced ease, they carried him out of the room down the dim hallway and into the seventh cell, locking him securely inside.

They then returned to the room, bringing in another thief, just as tense and defiant as the first. The same process was repeated: Pablo and Doctor Wallace questioned each thief, administering the serum that slowly drained their resistance. With the serum working its truth-revealing magic, each thief eventually muttered the same name: Carlos Bontade.

One by one, every thief gave the same answer, confirming Carlos Bontade's role as the mastermind behind the attempted theft. The soldiers escorted each one back to a cell, carefully securing them all under lock and key.

Pablo glanced down at his smartwatch and tapped out a quick, precise message to Arthur:

"All seven confirmed. Carlos Bontade is the man behind the attempt to steal 'The Avante.' Ready for next orders."

Meanwhile, in his office, Arthur was seated behind his massive oak desk, reviewing reports from his network. His phone pinged softly with the incoming message from Pablo, and he stopped, his eyes narrowing slightly as he read the confirmation.

Arthur wasted no time and tapped out a reply:

"Good work. Bring Carlos Bontade in. No delays."

Pablo's face tightened with a look of satisfaction as he read Arthur's command. He immediately typed back:

"Understood. Will bring him in right away."

With that, Pablo signaled to his soldiers, his tone calm but firm, "Let's move. We're going after Carlos." The soldiers, who had been standing by, straightened and followed Pablo out, ready to track down Carlos Bontade and bring him in exactly as Arthur ordered.

They walked quickly down the dim-lit hallways of Nosa Costra Prison, their footsteps echoing as they made their way to the operations unit. As they stepped into the room, the space buzzed with soft, constant beeps and screens flickering with live feeds of every corner of the city. Maps, thermal scans, and footage from traffic cameras filled the walls, creating an atmosphere of high surveillance and efficiency.

Pablo headed straight to Logan, the tech expert, and without wasting a moment, he said, "Logan, we need to track down Carlos Bontade. Can you pull him up for us?"

Logan gave a quick nod, fingers already flying across the keyboard. "I'm on it, boss," he replied, scanning city databases, camera networks, and other systems. After a minute, Logan turned back to Pablo, frowning. "Carlos Bontade isn't in the city right now," he said, scrolling through recent activity logs and checks.

Pablo's face hardened slightly. "Alright, try his house at Mika dell Avenue, fifth mansion from the west," he instructed.

Logan nodded again, typing in more commands. He worked in silence for a few moments before looking up. "Got it. His family's there; two kids and his wife but no sign of Carlos himself," Logan said, still keeping his eyes on the screen.

Pablo sighed and replied, "Then we're paying Carlos's house a visit, he's slipped into a blind spot." Leaning closer, Pablo continued, "Logan, can you check if anyone or anything unusual, visited Carlos's house yesterday?"

Logan glanced at Pablo, understanding the hint, and replied, "I'll scan the last twenty-four hours," as his fingers flew over the keyboard again. After a quick search, he said, "Only one notable visitor: a moving van. Dropped off a package, no other details."

Pablo narrowed his eyes at the screen. "Zoom in on that van, Logan," he directed, watching as Logan did so, enlarging the vehicle's image.

After studying it for a moment, Pablo nodded with determination. "Keep an eye out for this van. We'll need a vehicle like this to pay Carlos a visit."

Logan nodded and began setting up tracking on similar vans.

Across the city, Carlos Bontade's wife, Salome, was laughing as she ran around the backyard with her kids, Ian and Marie, playing an energetic game of tag. "You can't catch me, Mamie!" Ian shouted, darting just out of her reach. Marie giggled, "Run, Ian! She's coming!" Salome grinned, reaching out her hand to tag him just as her phone beeped on the coffee table nearby. She paused, holding up her hand to signal a timeout. "One second, please," she called over her shoulder, catching her breath as she walked over to check the screen.

Seeing Mrs. Johnson's name; the kids' art teacher, she answered.

"Hello, Salome! It's Mrs. Johnson from Ian and Marie's school," Mrs. Johnson greeted warmly, though her voice sounded a little rushed.

"Hello, Mrs. Johnson! Is everything okay?" Salome replied, a bit curious.

"I'm so sorry for not giving you more notice," Mrs. Johnson said apologetically. "But the art museum trip I planned is today, and the school bus is already loaded with the other kids. We're waiting on Ian and Marie to join. We'll be leaving in about twenty minutes. Do you think you could get them here in time?"

Salome thought quickly, already planning the fastest route to the school in her mind. "Yes, I'll get them there on time, Mrs. Johnson. Thank you for letting me know!" she replied confidently.

"Wonderful! We'll keep a spot saved for them," Mrs. Johnson said cheerfully. "See you soon!"

"See you then!" Salome replied, hanging up and she turned to her kids who were watching her with curious eyes. "Guys, we have to go! Your art museum trip is today, and the school bus is waiting for you!"

Ian and Marie exchanged excited glances. "Yes!" they chorused.

Salome hurried her kids inside, guiding them toward their rooms. "Alright, Ian and Marie, let's go! Backpacks, water bottles, any sketchbooks or pencils you want to take along!" She moved swiftly, making sure they had everything. The kids ran off to their rooms, grabbing their backpacks and tossing in essentials like sketchbooks, colored pencils, and their favorite water bottles. They packed quickly, excited for the day ahead.

Meanwhile, Salome walked quickly to a small office down the hallway and knocked on the fake door. There was a small mouthpiece there. "Carlos?" she called.

From inside, Carlos's voice sounded deep and clear. "Yes, whoever's knocking can speak," he said, though he knew it was his wife.

"I'm taking the kids to school. They have a museum trip today," Salome informed him.

Carlos replied, "I heard you, Salome. I hope they enjoy it."

She hesitated, then asked, "Is everything alright? You've been in there for hours."

Carlos assured her in a calm tone, "Yes, everything's fine. You don't have to worry."

"Alright. We'll be back later," Salome said, glancing at the closed door before hearing her kids calling her name from the living room.

"Mom, we're ready!" Ian and Marie shouted.

Salome left Carlos's office and joined her kids, guiding them out to the front where their car waited. The driver opened the doors as a bodyguard took his place in the front seat, keeping watch. Ian and Marie climbed into the back, chatting about the museum trip, while Salome settled in beside them, ensuring their seatbelts were on.

The driver started the engine, and the car smoothly rolled out of the mansion gates. They drove down the long driveway, heading toward Ian and Marie's school, the kids chattering excitedly as the car glided through the quiet streets toward their destination.

Carlos Bontade sat alone in his hidden room, his fingers tapping slowly on the edge of the desk as he fell deeper into thought. The room was dim, with heavy curtains blocking out the light, and thick soundproofed walls. A single, small screen hung on the wall, connected to hidden cameras around his mansion. A simple desk and chair were the only furniture in sight, keeping the room bare and free of anything that might leave a trace.

Carlos's mind raced after he'd seen the news about Belluva Art Gallery. He had sent his men there to bring him "The Avante," and now they were missing, with no word back. "What could've happened to them?" he wondered. But he reminded himself that he was safe. His mansion was surrounded by guards, and this hidden room was untraceable. No one knew of it. The walls felt like his fortress, keeping him secure.

Just then, he glanced at the screen and noticed a van approaching his mansion. He squinted, recognizing it as the same moving van from yesterday, when it had come to deliver a package. "What could it be this time?" he thought, though a smile crept onto his face. Perhaps his men had returned with "The Avante" after all. He watched the screen as the van rolled up to the gate. His guards nodded to the driver, letting the vehicle pass without a second thought. Carlos saw the driver, dressed in a khaki uniform with "KDP MOVERS" printed on the back and a logo on the pocket, step out of the van and head to open the back door.

But suddenly, the screen flickered and turned black and white. Carlos froze, his heart beating louder in his chest. "What's going on?" he thought, tension building in his mind. His eyes remained fixed on the screen, waiting to see what would happen next, the feeling of safety slipping away in the back of his mind.

After the driver opened the back door of the van, the NOCOA TERMINALS leaped out like tigers, guns raised and ready. Moving in swift, calculated steps, they aimed their muzzled rubber bullet guns at every guard around Carlos's mansion. Silent shots echoed as each guard fell one by one, collapsing to the ground unconscious but unharmed. The driver, a member of the NOCOA TERMINALS himself, joined the assault, skillfully taking down guards with precision. In barely two minutes, every guard around the mansion was down, sprawled across the yard.

As they moved toward the mansion's entrance, Pablo spoke to his team, his voice steady but urgent. "We've got fifteen minutes to get Carlos Bontade out of his hiding spot," he said, signaling his soldiers to stay alert as they pushed forward. His eyes scanned the surroundings as he gestured to his team to spread out. Pablo held his gun ready as they began sweeping through the mansion.

Inside, they started tapping along the walls and floors, ears pressed to surfaces, listening for any hollow sounds that might give away a secret passage. They inspected wall alignments, noting any unusual spaces or lowered ceiling heights, but Carlos's location remained hidden. Each room they entered was examined, from sliding bookshelves to shifting paintings, even moving mirrors and opening furnaces. But the search turned up nothing. The clock was ticking, and eight minutes had already slipped away.

Feeling the pressure, Pablo looked at his team and ordered, "Time to bring out the thermal cameras. Start checking for temperature differences behind the walls." The soldiers quickly brought out their thermal imaging devices, scanning every corner, every surface, hoping to detect heat signatures that could reveal a hidden area.

Then, finally, one soldier noticed something strange on his scanner: a faint heat reading behind a thick wall near the back of the mansion. "Sir, I think I've got something!" he called out to Pablo, pointing to the spot on the wall. Pablo hurried over, studying the screen intently, eyes narrowed.