I stilled, tuning out the storm, listening past the wind and hail.
And then I heard it.
A scream—high, raw, bloodcurdling. The kind that tears straight through bone. My skin went cold.
Rose.
Instinct took over. I bolted down the side of the house, mud splashing beneath my boots, heart pounding like a war drum. Another scream—this one strangled and distant, swallowed by stone.
I saw the stairs. A narrow set of moss-covered stone steps, disappearing beneath the foundation.
The basement.
Then came the third sound—muffled, broken, not a scream anymore but a cry of pain.
Adrenaline detonated in my bloodstream, overriding every ounce of logic and training. There was no time to think. I had one mission: get to her.
I launched down the steps, water cascading around my feet, and reached a thick wooden door, chained and bolted shut.
Without hesitation, I backed up, raised the SIG, and fired.
The blast was deafening. The doorknob exploded into splinters. I didn’t wait. I barreled through the shattered wood, and straight into hell.
Decades of executing hostage raids could not have prepared me for what I saw. The first thing that registered was the smell. The scent of burning flesh. Under the dim glow of a single bulb, Rose was bound to a table that reminded me of where death-row inmates took their last breath. Her eyes were shut, her skin a waxy pale. A wired, leather helmet was strapped to her head. Syringes, vials, and a few blue-handled scissors sat on a silver rolling table at her feet. Next to her, June Massey, bound and wired as well.
And on the other side stood Theo, draped in a stained lab coat, with a nine-millimeter pointed to my head.
“Drop the gun,” he said in an eerily calm voice.
“Step away from Rose.”
His lips barely moved. “Drop it, or I turn up the voltage. You’ll get to watch her die slowly.”
He raised one hand from the pistol and casually skimmed it along the edge of a humming black power box. His fingers hovered near the dial. Unshaken. In control. And completely deranged.
I’d faced suicide bombers, cartel enforcers, and war criminals with less menace than the man in front of me. At least they had predictable triggers. This guy? There was no telling what he’d do. And if I had to guess, neither could he.
My heart thundered. My finger hesitated.
Then I lowered the gun.
“Kick it to me and raise your arms above your head.”
The gun slid across the basement floor. My eyes flickered to Rose, still motionless. Whatever the guy had done to her had incapacitated her. She needed immediate medical attention.
“She’s a strong one,” Theo said, with a mad twinkle in his eye.
“I’m stronger. Let her go and take me.”
His brow cocked. “Well this is an interesting twist.”
“Let both women go and take me.”
“I don’t know Mr. Steele, I think Rose is the strongest of you two. The flush of your cheeks and shortness of breath tell me you’re verging on a panic attack. Your adrenaline is being compounded by an inner anger so fierce, it’s clouding your judgment and preventing you from making solid decisions. You can’t control your emotions, even before getting shot in the head. Your anger—your pride—is your biggestweakness, Phoenix. It’s stronger than you’ll ever be. So, while you stand here, all two hundred and thirty pounds of muscle, you are quite possibly the weakest person in the room.”
The words cut me like a knife, exactly as he’d intended.
Head games. He was playing a game with me.
