The Thugs
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Mathis awoke to the subtle creak of the bed as Eva slipped out. He kept his eyes half-closed, watching her graceful movements as she tiptoed toward the bathroom. Even in the dim light, her silhouette exuded a quiet strength, an aura that had drawn him in from the start. "Leaving me so soon?" he teased, his voice a mix of mock reproach and genuine curiosity.
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Eva paused at the doorway, glancing back with a knowing grin that sent a familiar warmth through him. "I'm sorry, but I need to return to work," she replied, her words almost mechanical as if she had practiced them. But there was something in her tone—an undercurrent of urgency that didn't match the smile she flashed. She disappeared into the bathroom, the door clicking softly behind her.
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Mathis lay still, listening to the faint sounds of her getting ready. The rustle of clothes, the soft hum of her voice as she hummed a tune he didn't recognize. When she emerged, fully dressed, she moved with the fluid grace of someone who knew she couldn't afford to linger. She approached him, her eyes searching his for something she wouldn't say aloud. Leaning down, she whispered, her voice trembling ever so slightly, "I'll call you later," before their lips met in a brief, tender kiss. Then she was gone, the door closing with a quiet finality that left him feeling oddly unsettled.
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Mathis rose slowly, his mind already shifting gears. He gathered his clothes, the fabric cool against his skin, and moved to the bathroom. The hot water from the shower was a welcome distraction, but his thoughts kept circling back to Eva. There was something off, something in the way she left that made him uneasy. Emerging from the shower, he meticulously adjusted his hair in the mirror—a ritual that calmed him—and checked his phone.
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A message from Eva awaited him, but it wasn't the kind of message he had hoped for. It was a detailed list of known criminals, complete with their pictures and names. As he scrolled through the list, his mind switched to analytical mode. He compared it to the one he had acquired from Bram's file, searching for overlaps. One name in particular seized his attention: Alexandre Pear. The name was unfamiliar, but there was something about the face that struck him—a certain coldness in the eyes that told him this was someone who didn't make mistakes. "So, who is this Alexandre Pear?" Mathis mused aloud.
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Pulling on his jacket, Mathis left the room with purpose. He approached the hotel parking attendant, securing the key to his car. As the vehicle was brought around, he took a moment to mentally map out his next steps. Settling into the driver's seat, he delved into the details of Alexandre. His dossier was thin, just a few key locations, names of associates, and habitual behaviors. But it was enough for Mathis to start building a profile. He needed to locate the second-in-command—someone close enough to Alexandre to lead him further up the chain, possibly even to Aleksander, the man who had been eluding him.
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Mathis cruised through the bustling streets, the city a blur of movement outside his window. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows, and pedestrians strolled along the sidewalks, unaware of the tension simmering beneath the surface of this ordinary day. Mathis maneuvered the car into a parking spot at the intersection, the location strategic—close enough to the bar he was interested in, but inconspicuous. Leaning back in his seat, he revisited the details of Eva's message, his eyes scanning the nearby bar. It was an unremarkable place, but he had a gut feeling this was where he would find the lead he needed.
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Exiting the car, Mathis strolled toward the bar, his mind focused but his demeanor relaxed. The bar was nestled on the corner across the street, the kind of place where people came to disappear into a drink, not to be noticed. As he pushed the door open, he was greeted by the calm strains of jazz floating through the air. The dim lighting and smoky atmosphere were exactly what he expected—no one here wanted to be seen, least of all by a stranger.
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He surveyed the room with practiced precision, his eyes flicking from face to face, cataloging each person's potential threat level. He selected a seat that offered a clear vantage point of both the entrance and the exit, then settled in, his back to the wall. As he waited, his gaze remained sharp, observing the ebb and flow of patrons.
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The bartender, a burly man with a weathered face, approached. "What can I get you, sir?" he asked, his tone polite but distant.
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Mathis looked up, his expression unreadable. "A glass of whiskey," he replied, his voice steady. The bartender nodded, returning moments later with the drink. Mathis took a slow sip, savoring the burn as it slid down his throat, his eyes never leaving the door.
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Time passed in slow increments, the minutes stretching as he waited for the unknown figure to appear. Just as he considered leaving, the door opened, and in walked the man he had been waiting for—a slight, elegant man in a light grey suit. Everything about him screamed refinement, but Mathis could see the edges—this was someone used to being in control, but not unused to danger.
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The man exchanged a few words with the bar owner, their conversation too low for Mathis to catch, then took a seat in a corner, where the shadows concealed most of his features. Mathis watched how he interacted with those around him, waiting for the perfect moment to make his move.
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When the man finally left the bar, slipping into the bustling street where a car waited, Mathis followed. His movements were smooth, calculated—he wasn't just tailing, he was hunting. The car ahead weaved through the streets, and Mathis kept a safe distance, his mind analyzing every turn, every stop. The route was familiar, leading out of the city and towards the coast. This was where the wealthy and the discreet met, far from prying eyes.
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The car pulled up to a quaint seaside restaurant, one of those places that catered to those who valued privacy over publicity. Mathis parked nearby, noting the lack of obvious security. Either Alexandre was confident in his safety, or he was being watched in ways that weren't immediately visible. Mathis stepped out, moving toward the restaurant with the kind of grace that came from years of training.
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As he approached Alexandre's table, two guards intercepted him, their postures menacing. "Hey, Alexandre, we need to talk," Mathis said, his voice calm but commanding.
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Alexandre looked up from his meal, his face a mask of annoyance that quickly turned to a grimace. With a flick of his hand, he signaled his guards to remove Mathis. The first guard reached for Mathis's arm, but Mathis was faster. He twisted the guard's wrist and elbow, using the man's momentum against him, and delivered a sharp knee to the thigh. The guard crumpled, the entire exchange over in seconds.
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The second guard hesitated only a moment before advancing. Mathis met him with a calculated ferocity, grabbing the guard's arm and twisting it violently. A swift kick to the calf sent the man toppling backward, landing hard on the pavement, where he lay stunned.
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Mathis straightened, brushing off his jacket, and met Alexandre's gaze. The second-in-command, who had remained silent until now, shifted uncomfortably but did not react. Mathis fetched a chair, placing it between them. As he sat down, a cold smile played on his lips, mirrored by the now slightly more fearful expressions of the men across from him.
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"There's no need for violence in such a nice restaurant," Mathis began, his tone conversational. "I just want some simple answers."
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Alexandre continued to eat, his fork paused halfway to his mouth. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice flat, trying to maintain control.
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Mathis pulled out his phone, tapping the screen until a familiar face appeared—a photo of Bram, his ex-friend and former colleague. "Do you recognize this person?"
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Both men stared at the image, their expressions carefully neutral. But Mathis was watching closely, and while their faces revealed nothing, the way Alexandre's eyes flicked to his second-in-command told him everything he needed to know.
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"I've never had the pleasure of meeting this individual," Alexandre said, his tone dismissive. "Or laying eyes on him before. Do you have any other questions?"
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Mathis knew he was being stonewalled, but he also knew enough to read between the lines. Alexandre was lying, but why? Did he truly not know Bram, or was there something deeper at play? Either way, Mathis realized that this meeting wasn't going to give him the answers he sought. Not yet, anyway.
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He smiled politely, standing up from the table. "Good day, gentlemen," he said, his voice tinged with sarcasm.
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As Mathis walked back to his car, his senses were heightened. A flicker of movement in the windshield caught his attention—it was Alexandre's second-in-command, stealthily advancing with a knife. Maintaining his calm demeanor, Mathis continued his stride, his hand discreetly sliding into his pocket to activate the car's app. As he approached the door, he triggered the mechanism. The door swung open with decisive force, catching the assailant off guard and sending him crashing into the car's bodywork with a resonant thud. With a brief shake of his head, Mathis bypassed the stunned Alexandre and slipped into the car, heading back to the hotel.
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Entering his room, Mathis was greeted by the warm embrace of the evening light, which bathed the space in a serene glow. He settled into the plush hotel chair, savoring a moment of peace. A soft knock at the door broke the stillness. Answering it, Mathis was met by Eva, her radiant smile brightening the room as she stepped inside with effortless grace.
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"Did the information I provided prove useful?" Eva asked, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.
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Mathis, still processing the day's events, allowed a charming smile to surface. "I'm still piecing things together, but it's definitely time for a break," he said. "How about we go out for dinner?"
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Eva's eyes met his, and a playful, alluring smile curled on her lips. She approached him slowly, her presence exuding a magnetic charm. As they moved toward the bed, their connection deepened, and their lips met in a tender, passionate kiss, providing a momentary escape from the shadows that lingered outside.
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