Five minutes.
“Shit!” He lunged from the chair, biting back a shout of pain as his broken leg gave out beneath him. If he could drag it behind him, he might be able to limp out of here. Antonio wasn’t coming back. No one would be here to stop him, if he could just get out in time…
Tears blurred his eyes as pain and fear raged inside him like the fires of his own personal hell. His damn leg…couldn’t…couldn’t…
His body betrayed him just outside the door and he went down.
I’m sorry, Emery.
***
“What is this place?” Emery asked as he and Hans pulled up in front of a dark two-story factory on the edge of town. The windows were all smoky gray with the haze of the factory’s pollution. One pale yellow light stood out in the sea of dark glass. A figure moved past the light, catching both Emery’s and Hans’s attention.
“It’s one of the old breweries, I think.” Hans pulled out his gun.
Emery glanced at his cell phone, focused on the blinking dot. The signal from the bug on Cody’s desk was coming from inside.
“Let’s go. We don’t have time to waste. Cody could be in there.” Emery didn’t say what they were both thinking. He might already be dead and they were too late.
He and Hans stepped out of the car and started toward the darkened brewery. The main door was locked but Hans aimed his Beretta at the lock and shot it out. They had wanted the element of surprise in case Cody’s kidnapper was still around, but there was no time.
The main floor of the factory was empty and quiet. A solitary set of stairs led up to the upper floor, where they’d seen the light coming from when they’d gotten out of the car. Hans led the way, gun up and ready. They moved together, silent as predators tracking prey. After years of living with Hans, Emery had picked up his bodyguard’s ability to move soundlessly and quickly. They both knew that any sound they made could betray their presence and get Cody killed.
At the top of the stairs they caught a glimpse of light at the end of the hall. Bathed half in light and half in shadow, was a body.
“Cody!” Emery cursed softly and shoved past Hans. All instincts fled, all rational thought vanished.
Cody. He was the only thing he could think about. He skidded to a halt and knelt by his friend’s side. For a brief, heart-stopping second, he thought the young man was dead. Then Cody groaned softly. Emery turned him over and took in the sight of Cody’s bruised face, torn short, bloody hand, and the unnatural angle of his leg.
Whoever had done this would pay. Dearly.
“Damn, kid, what happened?” Hans growled as he assessed Cody’s injuries.
Cody’s eyes fluttered open, bleary and unfocused as he looked between Hans and Emery. Pain fogged his expression as he struggled to speak.
“Gotta…go…guys.” Then his eyes rolled back into his head.
“Shit, he’s in shock. We’ve got to get him out of here.” Hans grabbed Cody’s body and with a mighty heave, lifted him up over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold.
“Get him to the hospital and come back for me,” Emery said as he checked his own gun and eyed the open door where the only source of light slithered out from the shadows.
Hans paused, hesitation and wariness in his gaze. “Emery…”
“Hans, we always knew it would come to this. I’m not asking you to save him. I’mtellingyou. So get the hell out of here.”
In that silent moment, Hans studied him with a mixture of pride and regret. After twenty-five years, this could be the end of the line and they both knew it.
“See you on the other side, Emery.”
“Yeah,” Emery sighed, and turned his back on his bodyguard and his wounded charge. He raised his gun and stepped into the room, clearing the corners first, as Hans had taught him. It was empty, save for a table, two chairs and a computer. A single lamp hung low from the ceiling, the only source of light in the room except for the computer. It wasn’t one of Cody’s machines, which meant it belonged to whoever had taken him.
Emery didn’t stop to think, but rushed to the computer and started pulling up files. A red blinking icon at the bottom of the screen distracted him. He attempted to close the program but the window opened. Blaring red numbers showed a countdown.
Twenty-eight seconds.
To what?
The pit of Emery’s stomach dropped. The hairs on the back of his neck rose in warning and the memory of Cody’s gasping, “gotta go guys” echoed through his mind.
