Chapter 3 - The Secrets of the Workshop
At 2:00 AM, heavy rain washed over the narrow alleyways of San Miguel de Allende.
Sebastián, dressed in tactical dark clothing provided by Elena's team, stepped back into the workshop where he had spent his entire youth. The smell of rust, old gas, and burnt oil hit him like a ghost from his past.
Beside him walked Mateo and two guards.
"Are you sure what we need is here?" Mateo asked, sweeping his flashlight across the suspended engine blocks and dusty shelves.
"Rogelio was paranoid," Sebastián said, moving toward the heavy hydraulic lift in bay two. "He never trusted banks. Every time an envelope arrived from Guadalajara, he hid the receipts inside an old V8 engine block he pretended was unfixable."
Sebastián grabbed a heavy socket wrench—the tool he knew better than his own signature. Within four minutes, he unbolted the rusted oil pan of the center engine block.
A heavy, waterproof plastic box dropped onto the concrete floor with a thud.
Sebastián pried the box open. Inside lay stack upon stack of hundred-dollar bills totaling over two million dollars, alongside a leather-bound notebook written in Rogelio’s crooked handwriting.
Mateo flipped through the pages, his eyes widening. "This isn't just money. It’s a logbook. Dates, payment amounts, and signatures from Don Guillermo’s personal assistant going back twenty-five years."
"Look at the last page," Sebastián said, pointing to an entry dated three weeks ago.
Payment received: $200,000. Task: Ensure Sebastián stays docile. Prepare him for transfer to Guadalajara upon Elena’s death.
"It proves human trafficking, kidnapping, and conspiracy," Mateo said grimly. "This alone will put Guillermo and Rogelio away for life."
Suddenly, the workshop lights flickered and died. The sharp click of a weapon charging echoed from the doorway.
"You always were too smart with engines, cousin," a voice sneered from the shadows.
Iván stood at the entrance, holding a tactical shotgun. Behind him were five heavily armed men wearing street clothes—members of the local gang Guillermo used for enforcement.
"Iván," Sebastián said, standing up slowly without dropping his wrench. "I thought Elena's guards locked you up."
"Your 'mom' has good guards, but my guys have keys to the safehouse," Iván laughed nervously, his eyes darting wildly. "Hand over that box, Sebastián. Guillermo offered ten million pesos for it. That's enough for me to leave this trash town forever!"
"You sold your own blood for copper, Iván," Sebastián said, taking a slow step forward. "Aunt Ofelia knew too, didn't she? That's why she always looked at me like I was a ghost."
"Ofelia took her cut every Christmas!" Iván yelled, raising the barrel. "Now give me the damn box!"
"Mateo, light," Sebastián whispered.
Before Iván could react, Mateo threw a high-intensity magnesium flashbang onto the metal hood of the truck beside them.
A blinding white flash and an deafening boom exploded through the enclosed garage. Iván’s men screamed, disoriented and clutching their eyes.
Sebastián didn't hesitate. He lunged forward, swinging the heavy socket wrench in a precise arc. The iron tool struck the barrel of Iván’s shotgun, knocking it upward as a blast blew a hole through the metal ceiling.
Sebastián grabbed Iván by the tactical vest, slammed him against the steel pillar, and disarmed him with an expert twist he had practiced on stuck bolts for a decade.
Mateo’s men swept the remaining thugs, knocking them unconscious before they could recover their vision.
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Sebastián stood over his cousin, panting hard, holding the shotgun at his side.
"Tell Guillermo," Sebastián growled into Iván’s ear, "that the mechanic is coming for his empire."
