Page 72 of The Enforcers: KANE

“I imagine they took the transport vehicle. Rachelle must have been drugged.”

The bastard didn’t sound like he cared at all. Kane’s hands began to flex, and Wolf started growling. “So call out your troops,” he said. “Do it now. I’m going with you.”

Carmichael wasn’t intimidated by Kane at all. He sat erect but relaxed, his hands on his knees.

“Certainly not. You’re far too emotional, Mr. Colton. I’ll be leaving now to go down the mountain and call in my team. Raven has an embedded tracker; as soon as I activate it, we’ll be able to find Selina’s hideout. Until then, Raven is perfectly capable of taking care of herself.”

Suddenly it all came clear to Kane. “You bastard,” he said. “Did you at least let her volunteer to be bait, or did you just have your minion drug her and send her in there without her knowledge?”

He lunged at Carmichael, but Jace managed to grab him in time and pull him off. “Don’t kill him until after he saves Rachelle,” he advised.

He turned to Carmichael. “You get yourself and your fucking suit out of my territory,” he said. “And I’m calling in every favor I have with the Council. As soon as you have her location, you better let us know what it is, or I swear my Enforcers and I will hunt you down wherever you might hide.”

“I’ll remember that,” Carmichael said. With that, he rose, picked up his briefcase from the corner and walked out.

“I really, really want to rip his head off,” Kane said.

“If you did, I wouldn’t tell,” Emma said. “I’d even help you hide the body.”

“Priorities, Kane,” Jace said. “Not till after he saves Rachelle.”

“If he saves her,” Kane snarled. “If they’ve injected her with a subcutaneous tracker, it still works after she’s dead.”

They needed a better plan. He just had to figure out what the fuck it was.

* * *

Rachelle woke up in a cage. She was in a two-story-high room with windows lining the upper part of the walls. Pale daylight poured through.

Daytime. She’d been out for at least several hours, then.

There were other cages around the room, but all of them were empty. Down the center of the room was a row of tables—some padded like exam tables in a doctor’s office, some stainless steel.

Like autopsy tables.

There were rolling stands for instruments and refrigerators for samples. Scattered throughout the room were heavy metal desks with computers on them.

This had to be the latest location for Gen-X’s lab.

And that made her the lab rat.

Rachelle pushed down the stab of panic that rose in her at the sight of all the shiny scalpels. She breathed slowly and deeply, the way she’d been taught in training. She had to think, to assess the situation.

No other prisoners, and a pile of half-packed boxes in the corner. They were cleaning house, getting ready to move again. That meant they wouldn’t keep her long—whatever Selina wanted her for, it was going to happen soon.

She scanned the lab for security cameras. No visible ones—whoever was in charge either trusted the people who worked for them, or had other ways of checking up on them.

She assessed her physical situation. Slightly nauseated, probably from the drug. And thirsty. But not hungry, so this was the morning after she’d been abducted. She hadn’t been out a whole day.

And her arm felt uncomfortable. She rolled up her sleeve to see a piece of gauze taped over the inside of her elbow. Had they taken blood? She peeled back the gauze and saw a neat red scar, where an incision had healed.

Her stomach dropped. They’d taken out her tracker. Which meant the Agency didn’t know where she was. They weren’t coming for her.

And Kane had no idea where to find her.

Upsides—not many. She was still dressed, which was a plus. One of the quickest ways to keep a kidnap victim feeling vulnerable was to take their clothes. Of course they’d taken her combat vest—too many weapons and useful tools in that.

But they hadn’t taken her belt. She tapped the hidden button in the buckle and a compartment opened, revealing her lockpicks.