Page 25 of Enemy of the Heart

“We don’t get paid enough for this,” the guard mutters, his voice teeming with disdain. There’s a shrill scraping noise, and I peek open an eyelid just enough to confirm my suspicion that they’re attempting to clean the cell. “At least the cells in Kazakhstan had toilets.”

The painful grating sound claws at the inside of my brain like nails on a chalkboard, and I wince internally. “I don’t know how anyone survives this…”

Then, there’s a more high-pitched jarring that’s almost enough to make me want to rip my brain from my skull.

“…no way…siblings lived through…” Someone laughs, or at least I think that’s what that sound is. It’s hard to hear anything over the pain that has filled every cell of my body. “Think they’re both still alive?”

“Fuck, I hope not. I…she’s dead. That’s what Digs deserves.” At the mention of my best friend, I grind my teeth and try to make my mind focus, but my head is fucking killing me.

“I think she was scamming him,” the other voice says at the same time a clang peals through the cell block. “I bet she met up with…”

Fuck, it’s so loud. It’s a monumental effort not to cover my ears, but I don’t want them to know I’m listening to them—or at least trying to.

“Who throws away a success rate like his for some pussy?” Are they talking about Lou? If so, I hope that pussy saves our lives pretty damn soon.

I never thought I’d see the day, but fuck, I think I miss Special Forces. I didn’t enjoy being a Green Beret as much as I thought I would when I completed the qualification course. At least the threat of death was only ever on the other side of my own barrel. Now, it’s coming from my own brothers and the government I’ve served loyally for years.

My eyelids feel like sandpaper as I peel them apart and stare at the stained concrete wall in front of me. I don’t know what my mother would think of me if she saw me like this, but I’d like to believe she’d understand why I turned my back on the man I was just a few days ago.

I hope Louhi arrives before I’m forced to do something I’m a little less proud of.

Louhi

The corridor twists and turns, and it’s beginning to seem like I’m in the belly of a tightly coiled snake. When muffled voices float to me on a gifted wind, I pause at the corner, hugging the wall, my finger hovering over the metal trigger of the rifle.

Only when I discern that the sound is growing louder, I reach down and pull out my tactical knife. A half-second before they round the corner, I let the knife fly from my fingertips, and it embeds itself in one man’s neck. Raising the butt of my rifle at the same time, I slam it into the face of the other man, and he staggers back. I stand over him and pull the knife from the other guard’s head before I slice it across the throat of the disoriented soldier.

Wiping the blood from the blade, I tuck it back into its sheath. Then I’m stepping over the dead men and continuing on my path of militancy with a grin on my face.

My heart beats a war drum as I march down the concrete halls. I manage to kill two more soldiers before I encounter another four and announce my presence through gunfire. It was inevitable, and I just have to hope that the diversion that Viktor caused drew enough of the soldiers from the prison. I fire four rounds, the bullets finding their marks with expert precision as I keep moving forward.

Honestly, I’m a little curious as to why the entire place hasn’t gone into lockdown mode yet. Perhaps I haven’t caused enough of a splash.

“Blow up the boat,” I instruct into the comms unit.

“Copy,” Viktor replies. “Boat is destroyed.”

It’d sure be helpful if Viktor had eyes on the damn dinghy. This is a part of the plan that we had to leave to chance, but it’s still not the riskiest aspect. That’ll come later.

Striding past the dead men, I wind my way through the maze of corridors that remind me of one of the video games my brother played in the 90s. Eventually—and a few spent rounds later—the concrete beast spits me out into more familiar territory. I smirk as I pass the washroom and the entrance to a space I’m well acquainted with. But then the hinges on the heavy metal door creak open, sounding like an old screen door on a dilapidated porch.

A masked man emerges from the playpen, immediately meeting my gaze. My body flashes cold, the snake within me writing as if desperate to be freed. Without hesitation, I grant her what she wants, firing two rounds into his stomach.

I step up to him with a lethal smile, my eyes flicking to the gut shot that he’s clutching. “Be a dear and point me in the direction of Digs.”

“Get fucked, bitch,” he groans into his olive-green mesh mask. Well, that’s not nice.

“Did plenty of that last time I was here, Pomeranian.”

“What?” he snaps with a groan while reaching for the knife at his thigh as if I wouldn’t notice.

“My apologies, I thought we were naming types of dogs.”

Bored with the conversation, I fire again, the bullet in his brain halting his movements forever.

“Please tell me that’s how you talk to all of your targets,” Viktor speaks into my ear, his amusement evident in his lighthearted tone.

“Oops,” I giggle. “I forgot you were there.”