Trigger

Trigger

A Long Day

The din of traffic was grating on Mira Holden as she walked down the sidewalk in Queens. She was heading home to her apartment after a long day of work. At twenty-eight years old, Mira was one of the youngest officers on the police force. She had reached the upper echelons of the force and was a director of the organized crime investigations unit in downtown Manhattan. Mira dressed formally, wearing black suit pants, a white shirt and a black suit jacket as she journeyed home. It was a warm September day in New York, and she couldn't wait to get back to her apartment and get some much needed rest.

Eventually, Mira reached her apartment building and entered the lobby. She greeted the doorman and made her way to the elevator. She selected the fifty-fourth floor, and the elevator brought her to the intended destination.

Mira was thinking of taking a long, hot shower when she noticed something was wrong. Her apartment door was ever so slightly askew, as if someone had shimmied the door open. Mira immediately retrieved the pistol that was holstered against her hip and slowly moved forward towards her door. She blew her long, black hair out of her deep brown eyes.

Mira nuzzled the door open and entered the hallway and switched on the light. There was no evidence to suggest that her apartment had been robbed. All of her items and valuables were where she had left them that morning. Mira continued down the corridor, gun raised in defense. She entered the kitchen area and flicked on the light and she did a quick sweep of the area. Her kitchen was quaint and simple, average for the location in the city.

She then proceeded to her bedroom and opened the door, and went to reach for the light switch when suddenly she grabbed her arms and wrestled the gun out of her possession. Mira quickly recovered and punched her attacker in their face and tried to get the pistol once again. They grappled over the gun, each of them trying to gain an advantage over the other. Unfortunately for Mira, she realized her assailant had to be a fully grown man because of the overwhelming strength that she was now faced with.

Mira gasped as the man slapped her across the face, drawing blood that she could taste in her mouth. Her attacker then picked up the Italian-American police officer and threw her onto her bed. Mira rolled twice on the bed before she stopped. She stood up to continue the fight, but she realized it was all over as she heard the man click the pistol, turning off the safety and pointing the gun in her direction. Mira, who was trained for this sort of scenario, immediately tried to diffuse the situation.

"Okay, okay, looks like you win, buddy," said Mira as she placed her hands behind her head. "If you are looking for jewelery and money, there is a safe in the kitchen. I can give you the combination." Mira still could not see her attacker, as the light was still turned off. She strained her vision to discern any features that may help her identify him.

Her assailant switched on the lights, and Mira saw that the man who had attacked her was wearing blue jeans, a black t-shirt and a black balaclava. There was blood seeping through the mask where Mira had landed a punch on the man. She took pleasure because she had inflicted some sort of pain on him.

"Mira Holden?" asked the man gruffly. Mira was confused about how the man knew her name. That certainly wasn't typical of a routine apartment robbery in the city. She bit her lip before confirming that she was indeed Mira. She decided she had to play along until she could call for help. The man retrieved a phone from his pocket, took a picture of Mira and, once satisfied that it was her, spoke once again.

"Put these on," instructed the man as he threw a pair of handcuffs to her. Mira picked them up and handcuffed her hands behind her back. Mira was becoming increasingly nervous about the man's intentions as time passed.

"Listen, buddy," started Mira. "Why are you doing this? There is money in the kitchen. Just take it and go! I don't care how you know who I am or where I live," said Mira, which was an obvious lie. She desperately wanted to unravel this mystery.

"Shut the fuck up, bitch," said the man as he continued to train the gun on Mira. He picked up his phone again and dialed a number with one hand. Mira eavesdropped on the brief call that was had.

"Boss, I got her. Yes. I'm sure. Bring the van around the back of the building now, in the alleyway," instructed the man to his accomplice. Mira realized she was being kidnapped, and to preempt what was coming, she rushed her attacker and lunged forward at him despite her hands being bound behind her back. She knocked into her captor and momentarily surprised him. He lost his balance and fell to the floor, clearly surprised.

Mira capitalized on this and ran out of the room with her captor hot on her tail. She made it as far as the hallway before he intercepted her, as she felt a muscular arm around her waist.

"Fucking bitch," spat her captor as he placed another arm around her neck. He then produced a ball gag and forced it into her mouth. Despite Mira screaming at the top of her lungs, all that came out was an indecipherable moan.

The man then placed a bag over her head, and everything went dark. Then she felt herself being marched out of her apartment and towards the elevator of the building. She hoped that one of her neighbors would pass and see what was happening and call the police.

Mira felt someone pushing her into the elevator she recognized and heard the doors slide closed. She stood in fear as the elevator made its journey down. After a minute, she heard the door open, and someone pushed her out of the elevator, and she felt herself being walked along a corridor that she figured must be the basement area of the building because of the heat. If they truly were in the basement, then there was no hope of anyone seeing her being abducted. Eventually, Mira heard a door open and felt a breeze against her body and she heard the doors of a van open. A person forced Mira into the back of the van with roughness, and she heard the doors close.

Mira knew it was imperative that she remained calm and wait for an opportunity to escape. That was what her police training had taught her. She sucked on her ball gag in the dark as she felt the van lunge forward, as she figured they were leaving the area now that they had their target. Her.

The journey seemed to last for hours to Mira. Her arms ached behind her back due to being handcuffed. Her mouth was also aching because of the ball gag that was placed in her mouth.

Suddenly, Mira felt the bag being removed from her face and her eyes had to adjust from the terminal darkness that she had been in. Mira glanced around her environment and desperately tried to make a note of what was happening.

She was in the back of a van with no windows on either side. The only light was coming from the back doors of the van where there were two covered up windows. There was a seat on both sides of the van, and a man, presumably her captor was grinning at her as he was lighting up a cigarette. Judging by the ease at which her captor was operating, she supposed that they must be deep in the countryside and away from the city by now.

"Muuummmmmfff"," cried Mira as she gestured toward the gag that was in her mouth. Her captor shrugged and leaned across and removed the gag from her mouth in one swift moment.

Mira spat saliva on the floor and stared at her captor with pure rage clear in her eyes. She wiped the rest of the saliva from her mouth and attempted to regain some dignity.

"Where are we going?" asked Mira, addressing her captor directly. She cocked her head as she attempted to discern exactly what was happening here. She was being kidnapped, but for what end?

"You'll find out soon enough," replied her captor curtly as he smoked his cigarette. He knocked on the divide between the front of the van and the back, where Mira and the man were situated. "How far out are we?" shouted the man to his accomplices.

"About five minutes," replied a voice from the front of the van. Mira desperately tried to piece together what was happening to her. She was a New York City police officer, and an exceptional one at that. She made some enemies over the course of her career. There was no doubt in her mind that this was an ordinary robbery or kidnapping for money. No, this was something else. The question was who had Mira pissed off so badly that they were willing to abduct, gag and blindfold a police officer?

Mira desperately tried to rack her brain for an answer as she examined the man sitting opposite her. There was one obvious sign that made Mira extremely anxious. Her captor had removed his balaclava, and now she could see his face. He appeared to be in his early thirties, blue eyes, black hair, with about three days of beard growth. The fact that he made removed his mask was bad news for Mira, and she knew it. If he no longer cared, if she saw his face, it meant that she wasn't getting out of this situation alive.

Mira knew she had to be ready for an escape attempt. That was now her only option. These men, whomever they were or worked for, were not planning on letting her walk away from this alive. Mira quickly formulated a plan in her head.

"Do you mind if I have one?" asked Mira looking at the man gingerly, using her feminine charm to convince the man to give her a cigarette. Her captor shrugged and took a packet out from his pocket and fished out a cigarette. He placed it in her mouth, and Mira leaned in as he looked for his lighter.

With all her strength, Mira smashed her forehead against the man's face, causing him to clutch his nose and keel over in agony. Mira used this time to search the man for a key or something to get out of these handcuffs. She found one and quickly slipped out of the handcuffs. Her captor was still reeling from her savage blow. Mira could feel a throb in her head from the impact, but she forced herself to ignore it for now.

She went to the back of the van and opened the back doors. To her surprise, when she opened the van, she found it had stopped. She carefully opened the doors and saw a group of men with guns pointing at her. "Fuck," Mira muttered to herself. Her plan hadn't gone exactly how she had hoped.

"Get the fuck out of the van," instructed one man as he approached. Mira slowly exited the van with her hands in the air and above her head. She wished she had grabbed her captor's gun, but she had been hoping to slip out of the van during transit without the driver noticing, leaving her captor incapacitated.

One man got into the van to check on her captor. She could hear his moans as she stared at the surrounding men. A smile came to her face, as she was happy that if she were to die, at least she went out fighting.

"Move," came a voice from behind her. She felt the muzzle of a gun pressed against her back, and she walked. She supposed she was going to find out the reason for her abduction soon enough.

#

The Meeting

Mira examined the area whilst she walked. They were walking along an ornate cobbled pathway that was surrounded by trees towards an imposing mansion that dominated the view. The mansion appeared to be three stories in height with balconies and floor to ceiling length windows. There were men surrounding the house fitted with guns and submachine guns. It was obvious that the house was well-protected.

"Keep moving!" instructed one guard behind her as he hustled her forward. Mira turned around and gave him a defiant stare, and then walked forward of her own accord. They reached two giant double doors at the entrance to the house and one security guard opened the doors and beckoned them in. Inside, Mira stepped into an ornately decorated lobby of the house. A gigantic chandelier hung from the ceiling, and the white, pristine tiling that covered the floor reflected the light of the sun beautifully, a testament to nature and man's collaboration in creating something magnificent.

However, they ushered Mira forward down a hallway and into a room at the end. Mira's eyes had to adjust to the darkness of the room as she stepped inside. The lighting in the room was soft. The ceiling appeared to be some kind of marble, and the floor was a beautiful dark shade of wood that was covered in places with red rugs. There were two chairs in front of a desk and sat at the desk was a man hunched over, reading something. He was wearing a black waistcoat and a black pants and jacket combination. The man looked up from his work and greeted Mira with a menacing smile that made Mira's heart stop. She immediately recognized who it was, and now she understood she was in real and present danger.

"Mira Holden," said the man as he leaned back in his chair. Two of the guards who had escorted Mira here stayed in the room, and melted into the background, their guns still trained on the solitary woman. "You caused quite the commotion bringing you in. I think you broke one of my men's nose?" asked the man maintaining his false smile. Mira examined the short cropped black hair and tightly trimmed beard, and stared directly into his brown eyes. She knew who this was. He was famous in New York City, especially to a cop.

"You're Marcio Hynes," said Mira in a commanding tone. She would not let his show of force scare her. "You are the head of the Hynes Crime Family, based out of New York," continued Mira.

"Very astute of you, Mira," replied Marcio as he nodded his head in agreement. "I also assume, then that you have figured out why you are here?" asked Marcio. Mira understood perfectly why Marcio had summoned her, and she accepted her situation.

"I killed your son," said Mira bluntly, enjoying the effect her bluntness had on the man in front of her. Mira hated the Hynes family with a passion that stemmed from her childhood. Her father had been a low grade thief that worked for one of the Crime Families in New York. He got caught up in a bad job, and they whacked him for it. Her mother, in order to pay the bills, turned to prostitution. Mira was repulsed by her mother's actions, and her greatest fear was becoming like her. For this, she blamed all the Crime Families of New York, and the Hynes were one of the most powerful.

"I want you to tell me what happened that day," instructed Marcio as he leaned forward on his desk in anticipation. Mira figured she would humor him. There was no way she was walking out of this scenario alive, so she thought she might as well delay the inevitable as much as possible.

"It was during the height of summer," started Mira. "Two years ago now. I got assigned to the traffic division, and I was doing my routine patrol. I was outside the city limits, and it was late at night. I pulled over to take a break, and my partner and I were drinking coffee. Suddenly, I hear an engine roar as a car flew by on my right. I immediately started my engine and engaged in pursuit. The car I was following was a red Ferrari. It looked like a real beauty. The car was swerving erratically all over the road, and I knew the driver had to be intoxicated," continued Mira.

"My squad car could barely keep up, but I'm a skilled driver. I engaged the other car in aggressive maneuvers. I realized the driver of the vehicle was going to end up killing someone if I didn't do something soon. I side-swiped his car, and it caused the car to swerve off the road and into a field next to the road."

"Me and my partner got out of our car and walked over to the crash site. The Ferrari had flipped several times, and black smoke was billowing from the engine. I called out to see if the occupants of the car were alright. There was no reply. As I approached, I saw a young man stumble from the wreckage, and I saw he was waving a pistol in his right hand. I told him to drop his weapon as I aimed my gun at him. He didn't listen and tried to shoot me, but he was too drunk and the first shot fell somewhere to my right. I would not let fire a second shot, and so I opened fire and hit him three times in the chest till the threat was ended," concluded Mira dispassionately.

The Don contemplated what he had just been told as he sat back in his chair. He wiped away something from his eyes and then he looked back at Mira.

"You are one cold bitch," he said, his smile back on his face. "So you really killed my son? I've spent so long waiting to meet you," continued Marcio. "I spent the last two years wondering what I'd say to you, do to you. And now that you are here ..." Marcio said, his voice trailing off.

"You're going to kill me," spat Mira. "That's why you abducted me and brought me here. I understand." Mira wondered if she was crazy at that moment. She had just advocated for her own death. Mira discovered that she really didn't care if she lived or died. She had killed the son of one of the most powerful crime families in New York, and she could see how much his son's murder had affected him. She took great satisfaction that her own personal war against the Hynes had resulted in such a high-profile casualty.

"I want you to understand that whatever happens, it's not personal. I don't blame you for killing my son. He was a low-life degenerate who embarrassed this family and would have gotten himself killed, eventually. However, you killed my fucking son," shouted Marcio as he slammed his right fist against the table in a sudden rage. "And that ... That I cannot forgive," said Marico as he stood and opened the top drawer on his desk. He took out a revolver pistol and picked it up in his right hand.

"This was my son's gun," continued Marcio as he walked out from behind his desk. Mira heard the noise of the gun being cocked and knew that this was it. She closed her eyes as the Don walked slowly behind her.

It surprised Mira how okay she was with the whole situation. She was fine with dying and had peace with it. She knew that eventually the cops would discover her missing and they would piece things together about her disappearance. Maybe her death could even lead to a prosecution against Marcio Hynes.

"I've heard enough," said Mira loudly and calmly. "Do what you're going to do to me, let's just get this over with," said Mira as she was ready for the inevitable.

Mira felt the cold barrel of the gun against the back of her head. She imagined any second now that the bullet would exit the barrel and go straight through her head, ending it. Her patience was tested as she waited for the end. She felt herself shake as she stood there, arms bound behind her back. Mira heard a loud clicking sound and jumped. However, she was still alive. She opened her eyes and saw that Marcio had walked back to his desk and was sitting down once again; the pistol was back on the table.

"Oops," laughed Marcio. "Looks like I left the safety on." Marcio leaned back into his chair triumphantly, and Mira was unsure about exactly what was going on.

"I don't understand," started Mira, breaking the silence that hung in the air. "I murdered your son, you abducted me, and you are obviously going to kill me in retaliation. Why haven't you done it?" asked Mira.

"First," replied Marcio. "I have my set of rules that I adhere to, my own personal code. I don't kill women. I never have and I don't plan to start now. My son, Enzo, the boy you killed, wouldn't want me to break my code on his account."

"Then why have you abducted me?" asked Mira know, looking around the room at the security guards who were watching the entire scenario play out behind her.

"My girl," said Marcio. "You killed my son, and I don't blame you. However, like I said earlier, I have to punish you for that, and I don't kill women. If you had been a man, I would have put a fucking bullet through your skull five-times over by now. However, you are a woman and so I cannot kill you. That left me in a bind for quite some time. It took me quite a while to decide what to do with you," continued Marcio.