The Untouchables

15. Alone

It's been a while since I wore sportive clothes like this police uniform. Walking without high heels almost makes me fall.

I walk into the detention facility at the same fast pace as the cops striding around like robots completing task after task. Nobody even looks at me. The mission may be easier than I thought, but I don't let my guard down.

Walking in the maze of corridors, I finally find the maximum security room and pull the handle. An electronic voice kindly negates my the access.

"Fuck," I mumble, taking my untraceable phone to call Rafa.

He answers before the phone can even ring once. "What's wrong, mi princesa?"

"The door is locked with some stupid electronic device."

"Steal a pass from one of the guards. They keep it in the pockets of their jeans."

"How am I supposed to-"

Rafa hangs up, leaving me on my own.

I curse him under my breath as I start searching for a distracted cop in a maximum security facility. Why the fuck did I accept the job? Oh, right... Rafa gave me an orgasm that blew my mind. And then I start cursing myself.

Finally, I find a cop relaxing on his break at the coffee machine. The pass for the archive barely fits in the pocket on the back of his pants. It's now or never. So I pick it up without thinking twice, and the cop's hand grabs my wrist before I can even tell if I've succeeded. Fuck!

I look at him. He stares back.

"Gabriela?" he recognizes me.

"Father?" I whisper, giving him a side eye.

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" he asks between his gritted teeth.

"What do you know about Miguel Camarena?"

"You better get out of here."

"I won't make it out alive without bringing Camarena's documents with me."

Ángel glances at the empty corridors around us, then drags me to the archive and opens it with his pass. "Move on. I'll knock if someone arrives."

I walk inside the room, but I can't ignore my feelings now. "Dad?"

"What?"

"How's mom?"

"She died four years ago."

My heart breaks as I throw up on the ground. Without another word, I start searching for what I need. My finger runs over every name: Castillo, García, Quintero...

"This door needs to stay closed," someone says outside the room.

"Someone threw up, I'm waiting for the cleaner," my father says.

The man takes a while to walk away. When I can still hear his steps, I sneak out of the room.

"Thank you, dad." I kiss him on the cheek.

His eyes run over me and his lips curl up in disgust. "Don't ever show up again."

I laugh, holding back the tears. As I walk away, I drop one of the folders I took.

"Hey, you lost a document! Have you got an idea of how important those archives are?!" the man that told my father to close the door, probably a boss, comes back and picks up the document.

I don't need to turn back to taste victory, so I keep walking and looking forward to my bright future. I smirk as I hear the sound of the pages being turned.

The man snaps his fingers, calling one of his puppets in blue. "¿Quien es Carlos Quintero?"