by G. K. Parks
In the far corner, beneath the staircase, he had spotty service. A single bar kept blinking in and out, unable to support a phone call. Quickly, Mercer sent a coded text to Donovan’s number, watching the “sending” message continue to spin on the screen.
“Come on,” he growled.
Before the message sent, he heard the sounds of the latch from above. Leaving the phone beneath the stairs, Mercer dashed across the room, returning to his prior position on the floor. He put his hands behind his back, hoping that whoever was about to enter wouldn’t notice anything amiss. He held the shiv firmly. If Alpha came close enough, Mercer would cut his throat. It was time he ended this mission.
Thirty-three
“What have you done with her?” Mercer snarled.
“Didn’t you mention something about not caring about her life any more than you care about the protocols?” Alpha mused. He rubbed his thumb across his lower lip and smirked. “Isn’t this just a job?”
“It was.” Mercer’s eyes followed every movement and mannerism.
“Then how come your job performance continues to be disappointing?” Alpha asked. “You knew the rules. You were to bring the item to the exchange. Instead, you gave me shit and broke our agreement. I’ve been more than fair in our dealings. It is you who has lied repeatedly and botched the negotiation. I expected more from a professional with your reputation.” Alpha looked down at his dead associate. “Needless to say, I’ve grown tired of this. Tell me now where you hid the stolen protocols and I’ll consider letting you live.”
“No.”
“Fine, I’ll start over. Plenty of people work at Trila. Someone will comply with my demands.” Alpha cocked his head to the side. “After we’re done, perhaps I’ll pay a visit to Logan Porter or send him a special delivery. Since he wants his wife back, I’ll let him piece her back together.”
Mercer stood, keeping his arms behind his back. It was an arrogant act of defiance, and he knew that was something Alpha wouldn’t tolerate. The kidnapper scoffed, practically sighing in exasperation over Mercer’s continued insolence.
“Give up like the weak pathetic pisser you are,” Alpha snapped, stepping over the Dane’s body. He grabbed Mercer’s shoulders and moved to knee him, but Mercer sidestepped and punched him in the gut. Gripping the shiv, Mercer slashed at Alpha’s throat. But the kidnapper deflected, and the blade sliced through Alpha’s bicep instead. “Motherfucker,” Alpha bellowed.
Mercer shifted into a fighting stance, using the shiv as a dagger to stab in Alpha’s direction, but the kidnapper was fast on his feet. He moved out of striking range and glanced at his bleeding arm.
“You’ll pay for that,” Alpha warned. The incessant prattling had become an irritant. If Alpha couldn’t be killed, Mercer would settle for slicing out the man’s tongue.
Mercer stepped closer, keeping his fists up in a defensive position. Changing his grip on the shiv, Mercer lunged forward with a slashing motion aimed at Alpha’s throat. With amazing reflexes, Alpha narrowly avoided the blade as it skimmed across the surface of his neck, destroying the voice modulator and drawing the slightest bit of blood. Enraged, Alpha followed up with a high kick to Mercer’s sternum that sent Julian stumbling backward.
Without hesitating, Alpha removed the gun from his hip and fired. Julian went down, no longer having the strength to fight. His vision fogged, and he blinked. Blood. One shot, left side, near the ribs, his mind ran through the information even though he couldn’t comprehend it. How could he let this piece of shit win? Mercer looked up to see Alpha standing over him, gloating.
“The protocols,” Alpha said, “where are they?”
“Fuck. You.”
* * *
Julian wasn’t sure if he was dead or dreaming. It didn’t matter. He was with her. Michelle, his wife, was lying against his chest. He had told her time and time again not to cuddle against him for fear that he’d have a nightmare and accidentally hurt her in his sleep, but tonight, like most nights, she did what she wanted. He sighed, feeling a sharp pinch against his side, but it was of little consequence. Having her in his arms was a comfort, and he relished the warmth of her body against his freezing cold skin. He’d missed this. He missed her.
“Wake up,” a woman’s voice insisted. “Please.”
The voice didn’t belong to Michelle, and Mercer looked down, realizing that the woman pressed against his side wasn’t his wife. He startled awake, pushing her away. He’d slept with other women since his wife’s passing, but none of them had ever spent the night and he’d never fallen asleep with any of them. Nothing made any sense. Then the pain in his side grew worse, and he suddenly remembered everything that happened.
“Sarina?” he asked, unsure of this bizarre reality.
“Shit, I thought you had stopped bleeding.” She pressed harder against his side, and he bit back a scream, swearing instead.
“Stop.” He pried her hands off of him and looked down at his torso. “Is there an exit wound?” he asked.
“You’re bleeding from the side too,” she said. “I don’t know if…”
“Yes,” Mercer said, “that’s what I needed to know.”
He undid his belt, tugging it free from the loops. Removing his soaking wet shirt, he tried to wring out as much moisture as he could before pressing it firmly into the bullet wound. Hissing, he tried to secure the belt around it, but after his second failed attempt, Sarina took over, fastening it around his makeshift bandages.
“You need help.” She gave him a tight smile. “We need help.”
“Where’s Alpha?” Mercer asked.
“I don’t know.” She looked away. “I woke up next to you. I don’t know when they’ll be back.” She shifted her gaze to the puddle of blood and water near the center pillar. “I can’t believe he shot his own guy.”
“Fancy that.” Mercer lifted his head and leaned against the wall. “One less target to eliminate.”
“How can you seriously act so…indifferent, especially at a time like this?”
“What would you prefer?” he challenged.
“Someone with human emotions.” It was obvious she was scared, but wasting time to coddle her wouldn’t be a productive use of Alpha’s absence.
“Underneath the stairs is a cell phone. Tell me if the message sent.”
Her face brightened in actual hope, and she bolted across the room. “Message sent,” she read from the screen. “Who did you text? Are the cops coming? When will they get here?”
Mercer held up his palm to silence the barrage of questions. He feared that even if the message sent, it hadn’t been received. Either that or wherever they were being held wasn’t accessible. Donovan would come for them if he could.
“My team will do their best,” Mercer said when she continued to stare at him. He assessed her appearance. The swollen cheek and bloody lip were nothing compared to the large welt and bruise at her temple. “Are you okay?”
Sarina practically laughed at the same time tears welled in her eyes. “You really want to ask that question now?”
Mercer started to shrug, wincing at the pain the movement caused. However, it reminded him of Brie Dawson. He still wasn’t positive how Alpha had happened across Sarina’s private e-mail account. “Distract me,” Mercer said.
“What?” she asked.
“Had you not been taken, what were you doing that afternoon?” Mercer asked.
“I don’t know.” She blinked a few times. “Working, I guess.” She exhaled. “It seems like that was a lifetime ago, or it was someone else’s life. Do you think,” she looked at the phone and Mercer’s pale visage, “that we’ll actually live through this?”
“I made a promise.” He was growing tired from the blood loss. “And I intend to keep it.”
“How?”
He tried to think, but he kept losing his train of thought. She shook his shoulder, and he opened his eyes, realizing that he had slipped out of consciousness. He blinked and sat up a little straighter,
but it was a losing battle. He continued to shiver, and she insisted on sharing her body heat with him. Eventually, he gave up the fight to keep her away when she nestled next to him.
“Don’t leave me here alone,” Sarina said. “I don’t know what will happen when Alpha comes back.”
“He won’t kill you,” Mercer said. “He hasn’t yet.”
She looked up at him. “I guess he won’t until he gets that stupid computer thing.” She paused, watching Mercer drift in and out of wakefulness. “Are you sure he won’t find it on his own? Where did you hide the protocols? Did you give them to your team for safe keeping?”
“No. He can’t get them. No one can.”
Thirty-four
The bang of the door startled Mercer and Sarina awake. Julian blinked, pushing himself up in order to use his body as a shield. He placed himself between Sarina and the three men that came down the stairs in full tactical gear. His mind screamed raid, but that made no sense. He narrowed his eyes, suspecting that this was another ploy Alpha was using to terrorize and break them.
“Jules,” one of the men said, lifting the mask from his face, “it’s me.”
“What the bloody hell took you so long?” Mercer retorted. He’d never been happier to see Donovan.
“You have no idea.” Donovan looked at the woman behind him. “Sarina?” he asked. She nodded, and Donovan gave the two men waiting on the stairs a thumbs up. “Let’s bring them home, boys.”
The other two men never spoke, but they each took one of Mercer’s arms around their shoulders and supported his weight. Practically carrying him, they went up the stairs, slowing at the door. One of them released Mercer and glanced into the hallway, then he made a few hand signals, and they headed into the corridor. Sarina followed close behind and Donovan took up the rear.
Fluorescent lights hung from the ceiling, but the gray walls and floor were indicative of a garage or basement. Mercer squinted, wrapping his mind around their location. Clearly, Alpha had been keeping his hostages in a subbasement. They rounded a corner and made a beeline for another set of stairs. This staircase was much wider and had ten steps instead of eight. At the top of the steps, they stopped.
“Put this on,” Donovan said, handing a jacket to Mercer. “If anyone gets a look at you, we may never get out of here.”
“I need a gun,” Mercer said, expecting to encounter armed combat.
“No, you don’t.” Donovan glanced at Sarina, but he didn’t have anything to offer her. “Stay close. We’ll go quietly.”
“Agreed,” Julian replied.
He struggled to put the jacket on while the two men removed most of their tactical gear. Then the men resumed their positions on either side of Mercer and walked into a brightly lit hallway. At first glance, it looked like an office building, perhaps for a prestigious law firm, but security was tight. The men wore dark suits, carried assault rifles, and had curlicue earpieces running down the backs of their collars. The signs in the hallway weren’t in English.
The two men led the way down a side hallway and into a closed office. They shut the door and released Mercer. One took a position near the door, and the other went to the wall, entering a code into the security system. Mercer made his way across the room to the windows at the side. He looked out into the darkness. It was night or early morning.
“Three minutes,” the man said.
“Thank you,” Donovan replied. “Now we are even, comrade.” The man nodded, crossing the room and opening the window next to Mercer. “Ladies first,” Donovan said, offering a hand to help Sarina through the window.
She looked utterly bewildered, but Mercer nodded. She carefully slid one leg out then ducked beneath the pane of glass and brought her other leg out. Donovan stepped through and waited for Mercer to join them. Once outside, he shouldered most of Mercer’s weight, and they headed to the left.
“Patrol’s come through every five minutes. We have less than two until we’re spotted,” Donovan explained, bringing them to the rear edge of the property. “Johann reset the system. It’ll be live in three minutes.” Donovan gave the metal fence a wary look and placed his hand against it. “It’s off.” He glanced at the numerous security cameras posted around the property which were also temporarily disabled. “Up and over, madam.”
Mercer leaned against the fence, and Donovan lifted Sarina up until she gripped the top of the iron girders. He gave her a boost, and she swung her leg over, falling to the ground on the other side.
“Ouch,” she hissed.
“Quiet,” Mercer whispered. He looked at the fence and the brick wall next to it.
“Your turn, commander,” Donovan said, grinning slightly.
“Go,” Mercer ordered.
“Sir, with all due respect, this is my rescue mission. Now move your arse.” Donovan knelt down, making a makeshift step with his palms.
Knowing they didn’t have time to argue, Mercer stepped off Donovan and scaled the fence in a single motion that sent white hot pain through his body. He landed on his back on the other side, biting his lip to keep from howling in agony. Donovan dropped down next to him, knowing they had less than a minute to get as far from the property as possible. The car was parked a block away, and he ducked underneath Mercer’s arm, pulling him off the ground and dragging him down the street.
“You need medical attention,” Donovan said, keeping an eye trained on Sarina. “You both do.”
“No. Too many unknowns,” Mercer said. “Is Porter secure?”
“Affirmative. I moved him to another location in the event he was compromised.”
“Bastian and Hans?”
“In custody.”
“What day is it?” Mercer asked, attempting to remain alert and regain control of the situation.
“Friday. You’ve been gone eighteen hours,” Donovan said. “And from the looks of you, that was eighteen hours too many.” He opened the car door, putting Julian in the back. Then he opened the passenger’s side for Sarina. “I’m sorry it took us so long.” He offered a polite smile. “Let’s get you checked out and then we’ll have you back with your husband in no time.”
Mercer fought to stay awake, but he couldn’t muster the will now that they were relatively safe. He blinked in and out, aware that they were in a back room of what smelled like an animal hospital. Sarina was seated in a chair near him, and a man in a lab coat was examining her hand. She protested, loudly arguing and pulling away from the man.
“Birds,” Donovan muttered, “they are a fickle lot.” He shook his head. “She’s been through much worse, and she’s acting like this is torture.” He helped Mercer onto the operating table and began assessing the damage. As a soldier, he had field medicine training, but unless it was absolutely necessary, it was better to leave surgery to the professionals.
“We need to go to ground and figure out our next move. Alpha’s out there. He’s determined to get the ransom,” Mercer said.
Donovan unlatched the belt and removed the bloodied cloth from Mercer’s torso. He poured a disinfectant over the wounds, and Mercer groaned. Reaching for the bottle of bourbon that sat on the table next to the surgical implements, Mercer took a swig.
“How soon until I’m mobile again?” Mercer asked.
“We’ll let the doctor answer that question.” Donovan took the bottle from Mercer and swallowed a shot. “If I patch you up, it won’t be pretty.”
“I don’t care. We don’t have time for this.”
“It’s fine. We’ll handle it,” Donovan insisted. “Let’s just get you stitched up.”
After determining that Sarina would probably survive, the vet turned his focus on Mercer. It was a clean shot that missed his vital organs. The projectile had glanced off his already broken ribs and exited to the side. His lung was partially collapsed from the trauma, but after a brief and painful procedure, he was breathing normally again. The doctor hooked a few bags of antibiotics, painkillers, and fluids to the intravenous and went to work cleaning and cau
terizing the wound.
Four hours later, Mercer was bandaged and able to leave. Donovan paid the man with a wad of cash, taking the prescription bottles and putting them in his pocket.
“We were never here,” Donovan said, and the man nodded.
They climbed back inside the car, and Donovan cautiously checked their surroundings before shifting into drive.
“Who the hell are you people?” Sarina asked. It was one of the first times she had spoken to Donovan, and from the look on her face, she might have been more frightened of Mercer’s teammate than she was of Alpha. “What the hell is this?”
“We’re security specialists, and until further notice, we’re staying under the radar,” Donovan said. “It’s for your protection.”
“You think Alpha will be back?” The realization caused her to panic, and she began to hyperventilate. “Julian,” she turned around to look at Mercer, “what do we do?”
“Yes, Julian,” Donovan said, eyeing the commander through the rearview mirror, “do tell.”
Mercer closed his eyes, trusting Donovan to handle things. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to fall into the drug-induced haze and give his body and mind a chance to recover. The last eighteen hours had been hell, and it needed to be properly compartmentalized or else it’d fester. He needed a brief reprieve in order to see things clearly. There was something bubbling beneath the surface concerning Alpha and the ransom demand, but at the moment, Julian couldn’t think straight. All he knew was something didn’t feel right.
Thirty-five
“Mr. Mercer?” Standing abruptly, Logan took two steps toward Mercer before he realized that Sarina was behind him. “Oh my god. Sarina. Baby.”
“No thanks necessary,” Donovan said, giving the hallway a final glance before closing the hotel door. It was the second hotel they’d checked into since taking this job. “Has anyone been here?”
When no answer was forthcoming, Mercer turned to see Logan with Sarina in his arms. Tears, hugs, and kisses abounded. Whispered “I love you”s and “are you okay”s were being uttered throughout the affectionate display.
