Betrayal (Julian Mercer Book 2)

by G. K. Parks

  “Sarina,” Mercer commanded, shifting his gaze to the staircase, “open your eyes.” She was three meters away, perhaps less, but it could have been three hundred for all the good that did either of them. He saw a bloody bandage covering her left hand, and he swallowed, blaming that monster for permanently maiming her. “Sarina.”

  Her eyes fluttered, and she looked at him. No fear or hope registered on her face. She was too dazed to process what she was seeing. Instead, she stared with dead eyes at him. Then she blinked in and out of wakefulness for a time. Finally, she cleared her throat and gathered her bearings. “Who are you?”

  “Julian Mercer. Your husband hired me to negotiate your release.”

  Slowly, she sat up. Her eyes began to focus, and she took in Julian’s condition. “This is how you negotiate?”

  “Not usually.”

  She squinted, rubbing her temples. “You can’t help me. You can’t even help yourself.” Sniffling, she rubbed her nose with the back of her bandaged hand, turning away from the bloodstains. “This was because of you.” She held up her hand. “Proof of life, that’s what the man called it. They had to provide proof of life.” Her chin quivered, but she fought the tears away. “You sick son of a bitch.”

  “That was unintended. Harming you was prohibited. Alpha’s behavior is erratic. I couldn’t predict that he’d do that.” Mercer glanced at the staircase again, knowing someone would be back soon enough. “Do you know where we are? Who these men are? What they want? Or why they want it?”

  “They took me from my home. I’ve been kept in this dungeon for,” she shrugged, “I don’t even know how long. When they come down here, it’s never good. Occasionally, they leave a tray of food or empty the bucket,” she shut her eyes, “but mostly, they terrorize me. They want to know about my husband’s job and our house.” She shrugged again. “I don’t know anything about them.”

  Mercer nodded. Donovan should have been tracking the cell phone. It was destroyed now, but it had been operational for quite some time. Surely, help was on the way. It was just a matter of time. Feeling the restraints with his fingertips, Mercer knew the chains were a thick iron that would require bolt cutters to remove. They had to be attached by a lock, but it was out of his reach.

  “Can you move?” Mercer asked, and Sarina nodded. “Okay, I’ll get you out of here, but first, I need your help.”

  Thirty-one

  “Julian,” Sarina said, her voice a soft lilt, “what do they want?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  Mercer opened his palm, pressing his back against the pillar to gain as much give as possible. She placed the cold metal lock in his hand, and he ran his fingers over the surface, realizing it was a simple combination lock. The dial spun easily.

  “It does,” she insisted. “I want to know.”

  “Computer security protocols.” Mercer turned the dial again and concentrated on identifying the slightest hitch. Two full revolutions later, he stopped the dial. “What number?”

  “Thirty-seven.”

  He turned the dial back the other way, but he couldn’t tell if any of the tumblers opened. After resetting the dial and starting over a dozen times, he dropped the lock and shut his eyes. This would be easier if he could see what he was doing.

  “What do the bindings look like?” he asked.

  “Old rusted chains, double looped around your wrists and then around the pillar, secured by the lock.”

  Sarina licked her dry lips and repositioned herself so they were facing one another. She opened her mouth to say something but changed her mind. He searched her face for a second, noting the grime that covered her skin. At least it wasn’t blood.

  “Any idea where we are?” he asked.

  “No,” she bit her lip, “they knocked me out, and I woke up here.”

  “How many men?”

  “Three. They always wear masks, but they go by different names. Alpha, Omega, and Zed.” She sat closer to him, her voice practically a whisper. “These men took me because they want a computer program?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is because of Logan?”

  “Indirectly.” Mercer turned to gauge her expression, but she was staring across the room at the broken phone. “He loves you. He’ll do anything to get you back safely.” It was possible Alpha had them under surveillance, so Mercer weighed his words carefully.

  “Humph,” she let out a displeased exhale, “then why are we trapped in this godforsaken cellar? Why didn’t he call the police?”

  “Because the authorities do not understand the intricacies of ransom negotiations. Their job is to arrest criminals. That’s why I was called instead.”

  “And what do you do besides make things worse?” she snapped.

  “Madam, my priority is your well-being.”

  “Sorry, if I have trouble believing that.” She glared at him and scooted farther away, settling onto a threadbare blanket that covered a few of the cold tiles. “Why won’t you give them what they want?”

  “Once I do, they’ll kill us. However, if Alpha agrees to release you, I’ll give him the information as soon as you’re safe.” It was the lie that Mercer chose. The more he repeated it, the more likely it would be believed.

  “Just like that?” She narrowed her eyes. “Except he won’t do that because I’m his bargaining chip.” The realization hit her, and she made a face. “Damned if you do and damned if you don’t.”

  “Precisely.” Mercer reached blindly for the lock, endlessly spinning it in the hopes it would release.

  “Logan’s in danger,” she said after the silence dragged on for too long. “He must have a copy of the program they want. What if they decide to go after him and take it?”

  “He doesn’t have it.” The conversation was a distraction, and Mercer lost his place on cracking the combination. “Don’t worry. Your husband’s safe.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “I am.” Mercer leaned his head back and relaxed his arms, giving his shoulder a reprieve. Donovan should be working on an exit strategy. What was taking so long? “Is there anything useful in this room?”

  She shook her head. “The stairs are off-limits. As long as I agree to stay away from them, they don’t tie me up.”

  “What about the cell phone?” Mercer nodded toward the destroyed item. “Is there anything salvageable?”

  Obediently, Sarina retrieved the pieces and brought them to Mercer. The glass was cracked. The battery was of little use, and the plastic casing was destroyed. The circuitry inside might work, but without housing and the proper wiring to connect the battery, it lacked a power source and ability to transmit any data.

  “Put the glass down,” Mercer instructed, stomping hard on it until it broke into a few pieces.

  “Do you have a plan?”

  “No.”

  Before she could say anything else, the door opened, and she scurried back to the blanket, tucking herself into a ball in the corner of the room. That display sickened Julian, and he got to his feet, concealing the broken glass beneath his shoe. Alpha descended the staircase, scanning the room for Sarina. She cowered in the corner, so he shifted his focus to Mercer.

  After making sure the voice modulator was on, Alpha asked, “Where are the protocols?”

  “Up your arse.”

  Alpha didn’t say a word. It was obvious he had grown tired of the game. They had reached a stalemate. He shifted his gaze to Sarina and removed a pair of handcuffs. He grabbed her by the wrists and clicked one of the cuffs in place.

  “Please. Don’t. Please,” she begged, but Mercer silently watched as the woman was bound to a water pipe that ran along the wall. Alpha backhanded her, and she quieted, pulling her legs to her chest and hiding her face in her knees.

  Alpha looked at Mercer, or at least in his direction, since he still wore large, darkly tinted glasses that obscured most of his face. But he didn’t speak. It was obvious whatever was about to happen wouldn’t be pleasant. Thes
e were intimidation tactics meant to instill fear and aid in breaking a man.

  A few minutes later, the Dane came down the stairs with a large bucket. His jacket was removed, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He put the bucket down and circled Mercer.

  “A chair would make this easier,” the Dane said. He smiled. “You are familiar with interrogation techniques. Don’t you agree it’s easier when your captive is bound to a chair?”

  “Looking for pointers?” Mercer asked.

  “The SAS are all the same. You think you’re the best, that you invented torture. Ha.”

  Without warning, the Dane lifted the bucket, showering Mercer in ice and water. Immediately, the frigid water soaked through Mercer’s clothes, causing him to shiver uncontrollably. Before he could even blink, the man hit him across the face. The ice sent Julian’s nerve endings into hyper drive, exaggerating even the slightest pain. First, it was white hot pain from the shock, followed by a sharp stinging. Mercer involuntarily gasped, and the Dane smirked. He ripped Mercer’s shirt open and picked up a blackjack, slapping him hard against his already bruised ribs. Mercer sunk to the floor, glaring at the man. He shivered but ground his teeth to keep them from chattering.

  “You can end this,” the Dane said.

  Mercer swallowed. “Afghanistan.”

  “What?”

  “Danish special forces, maybe Jægerkorpset.” Mercer lifted himself off the ground. “Pathetic,” he spat. “You should know how to conduct a proper rendition, soldier.”

  Briefly, Omega’s eyes widened slightly in surprise; then he snarled and delivered a right hook that knocked Mercer back to the ground. The restraints clanged against the pillar, and Julian knew he couldn’t take much more before blacking out. Unfortunately, that was the best way to stop an interrogation and buy some time.

  “Stop,” Alpha commanded, but Omega was on a rampage. “I said stop.”

  Alpha strode across the room, but before he could pull the other man away, the Dane delivered a kick that sent Mercer spiraling back into the darkness. After an indeterminate amount of time, more ice water was poured over him, and Mercer sputtered awake, coughing as the frigid water burned his throat and lungs. On the bright side, Alpha hadn’t resorted to waterboarding, yet.

  “You will die if you don’t tell me where the protocols are. Do you understand that?” Alpha asked.

  Mercer stared up at him, he wasn’t sure if he could even speak. His jaw was swollen and sore. He fixed Alpha with a death stare, wanting to rip those stupid glasses off his face and strangle him until the light left his eyes.

  “Fine,” Alpha turned to the Dane, “bring me the girl.”

  Thirty-two

  The shivering continued to worsen, and Mercer stopped fighting against it. It was the cold. There was nothing that could be done about it, so he had to accept it. Instead, he concentrated his efforts on getting off the ground. With his arms still bound behind him at an awkward angle due to the pillar, it was a struggle to get upright on shaky limbs, but he was determined.

  Meanwhile, the Dane unhooked Sarina’s handcuffs and dragged her toward Alpha. She fought against him, but he had a tight hold on her wrists, and she was sorely outmatched. She let out a bloodcurdling scream, giving Julian the incentive he needed to get his feet underneath him.

  “Alpha,” Mercer growled, his breath came in shallow gasps, “don’t do this.”

  “Too late,” Alpha responded, not even bothering to turn around. He nodded to the Dane, and Sarina was thrown to the ground. “On your knees,” Alpha ordered.

  Julian tugged against the restraints, but he couldn’t break free of the metal. They scraped and clanged against the pillar. He lifted his arms higher behind his back, leaning forward and pressing his heels into the pillar, but the chains wouldn’t give.

  “On your knees, bitch,” Alpha repeated, grabbing Sarina by the hair and forcing her to comply. “Face the wall.”

  “Sir?” The Dane sounded worried, but Alpha waved him off. The Dane stepped backward, focused on what was about to happen.

  Mercer pushed harder, lifting his arms higher and using both heels against the pillar. Suspending himself in the air with his weight being held by the chains and the angle of his body, Julian slowly walked backward up the pillar, alternating bracing his feet against the pillar and moving his arms higher. Alpha’s gun was cocked, and the barrel was pressed against the back of Sarina’s head. She cried and begged for her life, and Mercer knew he had to act. He had one chance to make this work, and he had to do it now.

  Pulling his arms forward, he shifted his weight and kicked his legs out, managing to get his calves around the Dane’s neck before he slid down the pillar. The momentum and surprise knocked the Dane off balance, and Mercer maneuvered into a better position to break the Dane’s neck. The man was choking, and his arms flailed. The Dane threw himself against the pillar beneath Mercer, and the metal made a loud clang. Alpha turned at the commotion.

  “Drop the gun,” Mercer ordered, “or I’ll snap your man’s neck.” Mercer’s voice was strained, but he continued to hold tight. “Drop it.”

  “Or you’ll kill him?” Alpha smiled. “You’re chained up. How do you think this is going to end?” He made a tsk sound. “You arrogant little prick. You actually think I give a shit about him?” Without warning, Alpha fired on the Dane, shooting him in the chest. The man immediately went still. Blood blossomed on his white dress shirt, and he and Julian crashed to the floor in a heap. “Now what are you going to do?” Alpha mocked.

  Mercer fell to the side, a tangle of limbs and chains surrounded him on the icy wet floor. He glanced at the Dane, who had died instantly. Mercer didn’t speak. Since Alpha was willing to kill his own man, there was no doubt left that he wouldn’t kill Sarina and Julian.

  Sarina froze at the sound of the gunshot, but now she turned around, a silent scream etched her face. Mercer prayed that she wouldn’t make a peep, but all too soon the shock wore off and her scream was no longer silent. Alpha hit her with the butt of his gun, knocking her unconscious.

  “This is a fine mess you’ve caused,” Alpha spat, glancing at the Dane’s body and then Sarina. He aimed at Mercer and pulled the trigger. The gun clicked, but no bullet fired. He continued to pull the trigger until what would have been a full magazine was expended. Then he holstered his weapon. “Looks like I just had the one bullet.” He smiled, a wicked dark look, and lifted the unconscious Sarina off the floor and took her up the stairs. The door slammed shut, rattling the walls and Mercer’s already shivering body.

  Julian took a moment to regroup. The scene that just played out was a nightmare. Negotiations weren’t supposed to devolve into this. Swallowing, he kicked the Dane’s body away, gaining a few inches of space between him and the deceased. Frankly, mourning another human being would have been the normal thing to do, but Mercer intended to kill the man the first chance he got. So he lacked remorse.

  “Bastard,” Mercer cursed. Every muscle in his body had tightened due to the cold, and from the strain of holding himself on the pillar, he could barely lift himself off the ground. Breathing was difficult, and he was positive that the pain in his side must be excruciating by now. However, he couldn’t feel it. That was the plus side of shock.

  Lying on his side, he leaned his back against the pillar, feeling an odd shift in the restraints. At first, he thought it was the water playing a trick on him, but he shifted his left arm forward and noticed that there was substantially more give. Sliding face first onto the ground, it was obvious something had happened to the chain. He turned his head to the side, hoping to find a way to free himself.

  One of the rusted links had snapped under the pressure of his weight and the force of the fall. It weakened the double loop, turning it into a single loop. Carefully, Mercer sat up, reaching behind to feel the broken link and follow it through. While his practically numb fingers worked their magic to find the end of the chain and undo the bindings, he focused on the staircase. His eyes
stayed trained on the door, and his ears listened for footfalls and the clanging of locks.

  Alpha had taken Sarina, and Mercer could only imagine what sadistic things the cold-blooded killer had in store for her. It was imperative that Mercer free himself and get out of this basement before it was too late. Coming to the end of the long chain, Mercer pulled it forward to examine it. The broken link was in the center, making it difficult to wind through the rest. Luckily, he now had enough give to turn and face his bindings.

  It took less than two minutes to free one wrist, and as soon as that feat was accomplished, the rest of the chain fell away. Mercer cautioned a look at the door then searched the Dane for anything of use. Inside the man’s pocket, Mercer found a cell phone. Tucking the item away, Mercer continued the search but couldn’t find any weapons. He peeled the mask off the dead man and studied his facial features. In the event Mercer made it out of this mess, an identification might be of some use.

  The blackjack remained on the floor, along with one long sharp piece of glass from Mercer’s destroyed cell phone. Ripping the bottom of the Dane’s shirt, Mercer wound the cloth around the wider end of the glass, making a shiv. Then he crept toward the stairs. Sarina was just beyond that door, and Mercer had to find some way to get to her.

  He went up the stairs with catlike stealth, counting each step in his head. Eight stairs. At the top of the steps was a door, and Mercer reached for the knob with his left hand. He held the shiv in his right and tried to turn the knob. It gave a centimeter in either direction, but the lock held tight. There were no keyholes or obvious means of getting the door to open from the inside.

  Bollocks, he thought. Forcing the door open with brute strength wasn’t feasible since it appeared to be steel reinforced, not to mention, loud. There had to be another way out. Mercer crept down the steps and quickly searched the entire room. When he found nothing of use, he removed the cell phone he’d confiscated and maneuvered around the room in the hopes of securing a signal.