Chapter 194: Colombiana
Ethan had just seen off a patient and returned to his consultation room, ready to finish updating the medical records.
Natasha lounged lazily in a chair nearby. She stretched, then covered another yawn with the back of her hand.
Ethan glanced at her but said nothing.
Ever since everyone had quietly agreed that he now possessed at least some ability to protect himself—or, more accurately, to escape danger—his "administrative assistant" had adopted an incredibly casual work schedule.
She'd show up one day, disappear for two, then reappear as if nothing had happened.
Not that Ethan had much standing to complain.
After all, he wasn't the one paying her salary.
And around him, Natasha had become more relaxed with each passing day.
Sometimes he couldn't help but remark,
"Didn't you only work two days this week?"
Natasha would simply throw him an unreadable look and reply in an ambiguously teasing tone,
"What? Miss me already?"
...Forget it.
She worked for the government.
Ethan had long since accepted her as little more than the clinic's unofficial mascot.
At least having her around made dealing with government agencies much less of a headache.
His phone vibrated on the desk.
Caller ID: John.
Ethan blinked.
John almost never called him first.
If he was calling now...
Either something had already happened...
Or it was about to.
"Hello?"
"I'm near the clinic," John said calmly, his voice betraying nothing. "There's a woman with me."
"..."
Ethan paused.
That was definitely not the opening he'd expected.
"And?"
"She mentioned your name."
John hesitated before adding,
"She says... you treated her in Rome."
Ethan's eyebrows lifted slightly.
Rome.
The Continental Hotel.
He had indeed taken on a little "side job" there, though so much had happened afterward that the details had become hazy.
"Oh... right."
He thought for a moment.
"There was a girl."
"Pretty thin."
"I gave her the clinic's address."
"Cataleya?" John asked.
"...I think that was her name."
Silence lingered for a second.
"Then she's telling the truth," John said.
"She wants to see you."
Ethan answered without hesitation.
"Bring her in."
---
About a block away from the clinic...
The street was far removed from the city's main traffic.
The narrow alley was nearly deserted, with only a few dusty shoe marks scuffed across the pavement.
Cataleya stood pinned against a brick wall.
Her shoulders rose and fell as she fought to steady her breathing.
John stood directly before her.
A pistol rested unwaveringly in his right hand, its muzzle aimed squarely at her.
His left hand held the phone.
Cataleya had never intended to enter the clinic through the front door.
A doctor who carried a reverse bounty throughout the underworld could only mean one of two things.
Either the doctor himself was extraordinarily dangerous...
Or he was protected by people who were.
In either case...
Walking through the front entrance would have been foolish.
So she had chosen the quietest possible route.
She slipped in through a side street, avoided surveillance cameras, slowed her breathing, and erased the sound of her footsteps beneath the city's background noise.
Everything had gone perfectly.
Until it didn't.
The instant she sensed something was wrong and started to turn—
Someone was already on top of her.
She didn't draw her gun.
Gunfire would only create unnecessary complications.
Instead, she launched a probing strike.
It wasn't particularly fast...
But it was more than lethal enough.
Her opponent, however, was clearly fighting seriously.
The next instant...
Cold steel pressed against her back.
Unlike her, her opponent had absolutely no reservations about pulling the trigger.
She was forced against the wall.
Her forehead touched the rough brick.
Her entire body was completely restrained.
During those few brief exchanges...
She had already recognized her attacker.
So her instincts had been right all along.
A doctor...
Protected by the Baba Yaga?
Cataleya stopped resisting.
Instead, she truthfully recounted how she had met the doctor, then quietly raised her eyes toward the man in front of her while he finished his phone call.
After hanging up, John lowered the phone.
"He'll see you."
Cataleya nodded.
"Thank you."
John looked down and began removing every weapon she carried, one by one.
A knife.
A backup knife.
A handgun.
A compact concealed pistol.
"You can't bring these into the clinic," he said.
Cataleya watched him without anger.
There was only calm acceptance—the composure of someone who had already accepted reality.
"When you come out," John continued,
"I'll return everything."
John secured the last of her weapons, making certain she no longer posed any threat.
Cataleya neither resisted nor questioned him.
She simply straightened her jacket, stood tall once more, and, as though nothing had happened, followed him toward the clinic.
---
Cataleya stepped inside.
The door closed behind her, sealing off the noise of the street.
Her eyes instinctively swept across the room.
Ethan stood beside the reception desk, still wearing his white coat. It was obvious he'd been called out at short notice.
John leaned casually against the wall near the entrance, maintaining a distance of two paces. His hands hung naturally at his sides, appearing relaxed—but she knew better. If she made the slightest suspicious move, he could kill her within a second.
A woman lounged in a chair by the window. Her posture was lazy, yet her gaze had never truly left Cataleya.
Behind the reception desk stood another woman, calmly holding an open patient file.
Everything...
Was far too orderly.
Even Ethan found the scene a little surprising.
He looked around at everyone gathered inside, then back at Cataleya.
"...Are we holding a meeting or something?" he asked.
No one laughed.
The air remained heavy with restrained tension.
Cataleya stayed where she was instead of sitting down.
Her attention lingered on the woman by the window.
That effortless ease...
It came from absolute confidence and control.
In some ways, she seemed no less dangerous than the man guarding the door.
The receptionist looked completely harmless, yet her eyes were unnervingly composed.
Ironically...
The least intimidating person in the room was the doctor himself.
Cataleya made her decision.
She would tell them everything.
Raising one hand to show she meant no harm, she spoke calmly.
"I'm not here to cause trouble."
"And I'm not here as a patient."
After a brief pause, her eyes settled on Ethan.
"I'm here to ask whether a certain possibility exists."
Ethan raised an eyebrow.
That phrasing...
It sounded strangely familiar.
Natasha remained silent, merely tilting her chin.
Go on.
Taking the cue, Cataleya walked over and sat in the waiting area, resting both hands naturally on her knees.
She carried herself like a warrior who had willingly laid down her weapons.
"My name is Cataleya."
She began her story.
When she was ten years old, she watched Colombian crime lord Don Luis brutally murder her parents.
She escaped and eventually made her way to Chicago, where she sought refuge with her uncle, Emilio.
Emilio had tried everything he could to pull her away from the darkness of her past.
He sent her to school.
He wanted her to study.
He hoped she could live an ordinary life.
But Cataleya wanted only one thing.
Revenge.
She was determined to become a professional assassin.
With Emilio's help, she eventually grew into exactly that.
At twenty-five, she had become a seasoned, ruthless killer.
She worked jobs through her uncle, yet every assignment was merely another step toward her true target—
Don Luis.
She hunted down his associates.
On every corpse, she painted her signature.
A beautiful Cattleya orchid.
She wanted them to know...
The little girl who had escaped that bloodbath all those years ago...
Had returned.
She believed that would lure Don Luis out into the open.
Instead...
It put her uncle and grandmother in danger.
She had already decided to abandon her revenge.
But just as she prepared to stop...
Don Luis found her first.
Her grandmother was murdered.
Her uncle was tied to a chair, tortured...
Then killed.
Her almost-boyfriend had unknowingly exposed her location, leaving her completely compromised.
Now...
She was being hunted by both the criminal underworld and law enforcement.
Her voice remained astonishingly calm.
Almost emotionless.
Yet everyone present could hear the grief buried beneath those measured words.
---
When Cataleya mentioned her uncle being tied to a chair...
Ethan's brows slowly furrowed.
He remembered this story.
What stayed with him most wasn't the revenge.
It was the conversation from her childhood.
She had wanted...
Nothing but revenge.
Her uncle had insisted she go to school instead, despite her protests.
Ethan could still remember the dialogue.
[An assassin who only knows how to shoot won't live very long.]
[If you want to become a true professional, you have to study. You have to understand how people think... how the world works.]
[You can only learn those things in school.]
[I can hand you a gun today... or I can wait until you understand the rules of the world before putting one in your hands.]
[So choose.]
[The gun...]
[Or the backpack.]
In the end...
She chose the backpack.
Back when Ethan had watched the movie, he couldn't help laughing.
Turns out even assassins can't escape homework.
If he remembered correctly, the ending involved one woman dismantling an entire drug cartel by herself.
Not quite as absurd as John Wick's body count...
But still impressive.
---
The consultation room fell silent.
No one interrupted her.
After she finished, several quiet seconds passed.
Finally, Ethan looked at her.
"So..."
"What exactly are you hoping I'll do?"
Cataleya lowered her eyes.
"I've lost everything..."
For the first time...
Her voice cracked.
Ethan instinctively wanted to comfort her.
Unfortunately...
The first thing that came out of his mouth was—
"You haven't lost everything."
"You still have enemies."
"They're all alive and well."
...
The room froze.
Natasha slowly turned to stare at him.
Did you seriously just say that?
Helen's face practically screamed,
Are you kidding me?
Only John remained expressionless.
...
Ethan coughed awkwardly.
That...
Was definitely not the comforting speech he'd intended.
He had merely wanted to remind her that she still had a reason to keep living.
"Ahem..."
He waved his hand.
"Please... continue."
Cataleya looked directly into his eyes.
Surprisingly...
She wasn't offended.
Because Ethan had unknowingly voiced exactly what she had been thinking.
Beyond that faint sliver of hope...
Her enemies were still what kept her alive.
"I'm here to ask you..."
She took a slow breath.
"You possess miraculous abilities."
"So..."
"Can you bring back someone who's already dead?"
Silence.
Even the air seemed heavier.
Everyone looked at her.
Cataleya slowly glanced around the room.
"The expressions on your faces..."
She paused.
"Do they mean..."
"I've asked a childish question?"
"Or..."
"...have I actually come to the right place?"
Ethan opened his mouth.
But Natasha spoke first.
"Why do you think he can resurrect the dead?"
Cataleya neither argued nor fabricated an excuse.
"I don't know."
She answered honestly.
"I'm just gambling on the possibility."
"I wanted to try."
Ethan thought for a moment.
"I think—"
"Wait."
Natasha interrupted him.
"Doctor."
"Mr. Wick."
"I believe the three of us need a private discussion."
Turning to Cataleya, she added,
"Please wait here."
---
The three of them entered the consultation room.
The door shut behind them.
Natasha wasted no time.
"You were about to say you'd help her."
Ethan sighed.
"I was about to say..."
"...that we could at least try."
"Why?"
Her question was immediate.
"What do you mean, why?"
Natasha looked directly at him.
"You've only met her once."
"So why are you willing to risk exposing your abilities just to help her?"
Ethan didn't know how to answer.
John watched him quietly, equally curious, but remained silent.
Natasha continued.
"What's your standard for bringing someone back?"
"You resurrected the clinic intern."
"I understand that."
"You resurrected Helen after she'd only visited the clinic once."
"I honestly still don't understand that."
She glanced apologetically toward John.
"Sorry, Mr. Wick. I'm simply explaining my concerns."
"You and John killed Gianna, then brought her back."
"I understand what you were trying to accomplish."
"I just don't agree with it."
"And now..."
"You're considering resurrecting this woman's family."
"Based on what?"
Ethan remained silent.
Because...
Except for Gianna...
He had actually known every single person he'd resurrected.
As for Gianna...
John had technically killed her.
Since John worked for him...
Ethan jokingly considered that "canceling out."
Besides...
He'd somehow earned a badge from it.
None of that, however, was something he could actually explain.
After hesitating, he finally answered,
"...Because it feels right."
Natasha blinked.
"Feels right?"
Ethan nodded.
"She's a good person."
"She needs help."
"And maybe..."
"...someday she'll help us."
Natasha narrowed her eyes.
"So you're thinking about recruiting her to the clinic."
"I never said that."
Ethan immediately denied it.
"We could recruit her."
John finally spoke.
"She's skilled."
Ethan stared at him.
"...?"
We're actually doing this?
Natasha gave John a brief glance.
"We'll discuss that later."
She turned back to Ethan.
"Doctor."
"I need to know."
"What exactly determines whether someone deserves to be resurrected?"
Ethan was quiet for a long moment.
"...My instincts."
"If someone offered you enough money?"
"No."
"If they forced you?"
"No."
"If they threatened you?"
Ethan met her eyes.
This time, his voice carried unmistakable conviction.
"Never."
The room fell silent again.
Natasha studied him carefully.
"So from now on..."
"We'll simply trust your instincts to decide who gets a second chance?"
Ethan didn't answer.
After a moment, Natasha shrugged.
"Fine."
"Then let's hope your instincts are right."
She changed the subject.
"Now..."
"About recruiting her."
"Mr. Wick?"
John's answer was simple.
"She can handle security."
Ethan blinked.
"...You're serious?"
Natasha nodded thoughtfully.
"Then we'll verify her background first."
She pulled out her phone and walked to one corner of the room.
Her demeanor instantly shifted into the cold professionalism of an intelligence officer.
"Run a background check."
"Cataleya Restrepo."
"Go back twenty years."
She made no attempt to lower her voice.
Nor did she hide what she was doing.
Almost simultaneously, John placed another call.
"The Continental."
"I need information on a name."
"Not a contract."
"Historical records."
Several minutes later...
Natasha ended her call first.
She looked toward John.
He had just hung up as well.
Their eyes met.
Neither said a word.
They didn't have to.
The result was obvious.
Natasha turned toward Ethan.
"No issues."
John nodded.
"She's clean."
Ethan blinked.
"So..."
"That's it?"
John answered naturally.
"Yes."
Natasha considered it for a moment.
"You shouldn't approach her yourself."
"I'll speak to Helen."
"She can persuade Cataleya to join the clinic."
Ethan hesitated.
"Doesn't that feel..."
"...a little like exploiting gratitude?"
John gave him a meaningful look.
The message was obvious.
After you resurrected Helen... didn't you recruit her the same way?
Ethan seemed to understand exactly what he meant.
He spread his hands helplessly.
"I was just saying."
"I don't object."
He actually knew quite a lot about Cataleya.
She was ruthless.
Efficient.
Decisive.
But she wasn't without principles.
Aside from pursuing revenge for her parents...
Everyone she killed deserved it.
Frankly...
Her moral compass was straighter than that of certain people working for the CIA or FBI.
As for everything else...
Ethan thought for a moment.
She might be a bit of a hopeless romantic.
He wasn't entirely sure.
Still...
It wasn't beyond saving.
And that...
Was more than enough.
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