I shook my head. “No, it’s not. That means they’re certain we’re not getting out of here. We’re definitely not going to get ransomed off and they wouldn’t accept some kind of trade. They’re playing for keeps on this one, which is what we figured all along anyway.”
She nodded, almost silent except for the sharp intake of breath through her nose. “Okay.”
“But, hey,” I said, putting a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently. “It could always be worse. We could be getting electroshock therapy right now instead of being stuck together in a room that’s nicer than our own places. Right?”
She didn’t smile or laugh.
“That was a joke, by the way.”
“I know,” she said, nodding. “It’s just not funny.”
“Tough crowd.”
She laughed a little at that one as she brushed my hand away. “I’m just worried, that’s all. Richard’s out there still. But the more we look at this, the more I realize how hopeless everything is. These guys are all trained killers–”
“So are the guys,” I reminded her. “I know it’s easy to forget sometimes, but your husband isn’t exactly chopped liver. He knows what he’s doing. Believe me, I’ve seen the way they handle themselves during drills. They’ve got this.”
“You’re just so…calm and confident.”
“That’s because I trust them, that’s all. I know they’ll be able to get us out of here.”
She smiled a little, nodding, and I smiled as honestly as I could right back.
After all, it didn’t make any sense to tell her that I was just as worried as she was. More so, probably.
I mean, this place was built like a fortress. It was literally a castle in the mountains over town, surrounded by at least three dozen soldiers. Under normal circumstances, there wouldn’t be any contest between the men of Frost Security and these guys, but this was anything but normal. The soldiers below us were all armed with what they needed to bring down shifters: silver, flashbangs, armor, experience, and God only knew what else they’d managed to come up with over centuries of experimentation on our kind.
The only chance we would have had was if Peter had listened to me about the hybrid. Maybe if we’d had months of preparation, we could have figured out how to get him to shift into the creature. Or we could have visited one of the wise women of our kind who knew its secrets and could guide him through the transformation. That was the only way he’d have been able to handle this many soldiers, and he still probably would have needed the help from the rest of the pack.
But that ship had sailed the moment Jaeger-Tech came for us, and we were split up.
So, even as I was reassuring Jessica, I was still looking at every opportunity we had. I refused to be just a damsel in distress, someone who gave up when things got rough.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t really say any of this to her. After all, they’d somehow managed to block all communications in the city below. There was no telling what kind of listening devices were hidden in here. Instead, it was just easier to lie and keep her hopes up.
Now, though, as I looked around the room and took my own assessment, I realized just how difficult this was going to be. We were too high up, for one, at nearly four stories over the ground below. We could maybe do the whole bed sheet rope trick, like we were teenagers in an 80s high school comedy trying to sneak out for the big party.
But that wouldn’t get either of us all the way to the ground, even if it actually held our weight and we didn’t end up as pancakes on the cobblestone drive below us.
Vents were too small for either of us to crawl through, even with our petite frames. I probably wouldn’t have been able to get my shoulders into them, let alone my hips.
The door leading in wasn’t reinforced, but it was built of solid wood and swung inwards towards us. That meant kicking it down would be nearly impossible. The guards who had brought us in had locked the door securely behind. But, as I eyed the door, I did realize one thing.
The hinges were on our side of the door. That I could work with.
“What are you thinking about?” Jessica asked.
I shook myself from my thoughts and glanced over at her. “Just how Peter’s doing. And the guys. That’s all.” As I spoke, though, I pointed to my ear then pointed to the ceiling and made an “all around the room” gesture.
“What?” she asked in confusion.
“I just want to know they’re safe,” I said, pausing. I mouthed the words: “They’re listening to us. Careful.”
Her eyes widened and she began to nod, saying, “Yeah, I’m worried about Richard, too. I hope they’re okay.”
Our little two-leveled conversation, though, was cut off by the sound of the chamber door unlocking, a bolt sliding out of place.
“Would you like us to accompany you, sir?” asked a voice on the other side of the door. I recognized it as one of the guards who’d led us up here from the SUV when we’d first arrived.
“No, no,” replied Mr. Finney, who had been riding shotgun on the way up here from Enchanted Rock. “We’ll be quite fine, I assure you.”
The door opened smoothly and the British stranger, just as dapper as ever, stepped into the bedroom. He looked carefree and relaxed, like he kidnapped women every day of his life. Like this was all just part of his daily routine.
“Good afternoon, ladies. I trust your accommodations are up to snuff?”
I opened my mouth to say something, but Jessica beat me to it. “Fuck you,” she growled, her voice so full of hate and fire, I could have used her to start a campfire.
I glanced over at her, a little smile at the corner of my lips despite the situation.
“I was so hoping this would more resemble a witty repartee,” he said, a grin growing on his face. “But as I see that will not be the case, let me just offer you two lunch as a token of goodwill, to keep your spirits up while we wait out this dreadful stage of the process.”
My stomach rumbled at the mere mention of food, making me realize I hadn’t had anything more than a cup of coffee. “Excuse me?” I asked as my brow furrowed. “Lunch?”
“Yes, Ms. Springer. Lunch. Is steak acceptable?”
Chapter Twenty-six – Peter
“Got any idea why there’s a gaggle of dead bikers on Main Street?” Chief Beckett asked, sizing me up with one glance. Matthew had quickly disappeared back inside, not wanting to be the one responsible for explaining to his other boss what was actually going on. Or, like in my case, be responsible for having to lie through his teeth. “Or why your Bronco is parked in the goddamn coffee house?”
All around us, people who worked in this little business district of Enchanted Rock had gathered. Down in front of the coffee shop where I’d left my truck parked in their lounge, they’d even laid out sheets over the bikers’ corpses. At least this way any children who happened to wander by wouldn’t be subjected to the gruesome sight while trying to see what all the hoopla was about.
Chief Beckett came stomping up to me the moment I’d set foot outside the Curious Turtle, and he looked decidedly nonplussed by the day he was having. His face was flushed, his jowls somehow heavier than normal.
Believe me, I knew how he felt.
“Richard Murdoch and I somehow drove into the middle of some drug gang dispute,” I said, looking him right in the eye. “We were coming up here to get a cup of coffee and bullets started flying. Couple hit the Bronco and I lost control, went right through the building. End of story.”
He sniffed hard, his steel-gray eyebrows scrunched together, his eyes squinting. Beckett was a tough man and I knew he didn’t suffer any kind of bullshit. Just a few months ago, he’d been almost blown up with his fire engine, but still managed to help Matthew Jones save his mate. I knew he didn’t believe a word I was saying.
“Wrong place, wrong time, huh?”
“Yeah. Wrong place, wrong time. And you can put that in your report.”
He ran a hand back through his hair, his stubby
nails scratching at his scalp as he went. He coughed deeply and spat to the side. “Yeah, it’ll go in there, alright. You know I don’t believe a fucking word of it, though.”
“I know that,” I said evenly. “But it’s the best you’re gonna get.”
He nodded. I knew he didn’t suspect me and the guys of being werewolves or anything, but he knew what our business was and how it meant we ran in strange circles, picking fights with people we probably shouldn’t.
He glanced over to the bodies lying on the sidewalk. “Been over to the sheriff’s office, yet?” he asked without looking back to me.
“Not yet.”
He grunted. “Ain’t pretty. Whoever it was that hit these guys hit Peak either right after or just before. My money’s on before.”
“Think they wanted to eliminate chances of witnesses?”
“Or chances of ending up in a high speed pursuit,” he replied. He shook his head. “Never liked Peak or Glick, but they weren’t bad men. Sure as shit didn’t deserve getting done the way they did.”
On that much we could agree. I nodded. “Yeah. Shitty day all around.”
“Think our day’s bad?” he asked. “Coroner’s gonna be down here in a little while. His day’s gonna be even worse.”
I doubted that, but I could understand the sentiment. “Any word on the quarantine surrounding the town?”
He growled again and shook his head. “Not a word. They’re all in those hazmat suits of theirs, and when I tried to approach they just said they were with CDC, and not to come a step closer. I’ll tell you something, though, Peter.”
“What’s that?”
“Sure as hell doesn’t look like any quarantine protocol we were briefed on in all my time down in Denver. Those kinds of situations, they’d at least get us involved and definitely not block out communication. Craziest thing, though?”
“Yeah?”
“Nothing going on in town. This, the sheriff, and that’s it. None of the clinics or anything like that reported a single thing. We’re about as clear of smallpox as every other spot on the planet.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning it ain’t here!”
“Well, just to be on the safe side, let’s just try and keep people indoors and out of each other’s way. Hopefully this’ll all blow over by tomorrow and life can get back to normal.”
He snorted. “Normal? How normal do you think people can get after their sheriff and his deputy got shot up in their offices? Or a biker gang had a shoot-out on Main Street? This town ain’t gonna be normal after this. Not for a long time.”
“Yeah,” I said with a sigh, “you’re probably right. But that’s about the best we can do.” Up ahead at the stop sign I’d run with the bikers on my tail, I saw the coroner’s van pull up. It slowed for a moment, as if the driver was in shock at the carnage that lay in front of them, then turned right and came to a halt. Its reverse lights came on, and the driver began to back up toward the corpses laid out on the street and sidewalk.
“Hey, Frost,” Chief Beckett shouted to my back.
“Yeah, Chief?”
“You be safe out there. Despite what may have really happened here, I still think you’re one of the good ones. Same goes for your men.”
I gave him a curt nod. “You too, Chief.”
I slipped back inside as the coroner was getting out of the van. At least Jaeger-Tech hadn’t completely hamstrung city services to the point where everything was coming down around our ears. They’d just blocked us off from the world and made our own communications more difficult.
The guys were already cracking open the boxes I’d stored all the long arms and various bits of gear and ordinance in. The communications equipment were the only things that stayed in their crates.
“The chief okay?” Matthew asked from his spot at the folding table, where he was already breaking down one of the rifles for inspection and cleaning.
“He will be,” I said as I went over and joined them with the breakdown. “Just needed to work out a few things, I think. He’s taking the whole thing like a pro.”
We continued the task of breaking down all the crates and assembling our load outs, our battle rattle. We had enough small arms, ammunition, and ordinance for five dedicated men to take on a small army. We each cleaned our own firearms. Since we were going for stealth, we kept it to rifles and submachine guns, along with the regular load out.
Mary sat beside me as I broke down my gun and oiled it, before putting it back together. She’d sat with me plenty of times while I worked on my sidearm, but never anything like this. Most of that work I kept to the office or the safe house. We talked a little bit back and forth, with me pointing out the different parts of the rifle, the effective range, and so on. It was a strange father and daughter bonding experience, I’ll admit, but not as strange as we’d done. After all, I’d taught her how to properly hunt rabbits in the snow during winter while she was a wolf.
“Hey, Cap,” Jake said as we were thumbing 5.56mm rounds into their clips, “got a question for you.”
“Shoot.”
“You got any idea how we’re gonna do this whole storming the Bastille thing?”
“Not a clue,” I admitted. “But I think I’m getting one.”
Chapter Twenty-seven – Vanessa
“Oh my God, this is a great steak,” Jessica groaned as she took another bite of her prime rib. We were both seated at the little table for two they’d set up in the center of our room, complete with tablecloths and napkins, and could hardly control our appetites.
On our plates were steak, mashed purple potatoes, and grilled asparagus with a hollandaise sauce. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think they were fattening us up for the oven like Hansel and Gretel. Scratch that. Maybe they were. Not that I cared, I was starving, and every bite of this was delicious!
I’d sniffed over the food once the servant had brought it in just to make sure it wasn’t laced with anything. The only things I could smell, though, were garlic, pepper, and butter. And, of course, meat.
As we continued to devour our food, the bolt on the door was pulled back, and Mr. Finney came back in. “I trust everything is to your liking?” he asked as we stayed completely focused on our food.
Jessica and I exchanged a look as we slowly chewed our bites of steak. She gave me a little nod before putting another delicate piece in her mouth.
Wiping my mouth with my napkin, I turned to the strange Brit and nodded. “Yes. Everything seems fine.”
“Excellent. I’d hate for you two to endure an extended stay on an empty stomach, so it gladdens me to see you’ve been amenable to lunch. After all, we need you to keep your strength up. Especially you, Ms. Springer.”
Something about his words created a buzzing in my brain. Keep my strength up? What did that mean? I furrowed my brow a little as I looked at him, opening my mouth to press him on his remark.
“Well, if you’ll please excuse me,” he said, giving a short bow before the words could even escape my mouth, “I have other matters to which I must attend. Today is, after all, a rather busy day.”
“Hey,” Jessica called as he turned and reached for the door, “what’d you mean by that?”
He ignored her and opened the door.
“Answer her, you bastard,” I growled without getting up.
Finney kept moving, didn't even pause in his stride.
I saw red. Peter had been dismissing what I’d been telling him for the past three months and I was sick of it. To think that this little pissant was going to try the same thing, especially when it came to me and the well-being of my pack was infuriating. I pushed my chair back from the table, calling again, “Hey! She was talking to you!”
He was through the doorway already, my words clearly falling on willfully deaf ears. The door, though, was still open.
I could make it before it shut. I knew it. “You son of a bitch!” I shouted as I leapt from my seat and bolted across the room, straight for his back.
<
br /> “Vanessa!” Jessica screamed. “No!”
He didn’t hurry, nor did he change his pace. He didn’t flinch, even as I barreled down on him from behind, my hands clenched into fists as my boots slapped the floor with each running step.
Fine, if he didn’t want to answer me, I’d just have to encourage him. There was no way I was going to take that kind of disrespect from this twig of a man. I didn’t care how powerful he thought he was. I’d show him different. I reached out for him just as he entered the hallway.
But as my fingers came within inches of his jacket, the guards on either side of the door moved into action. In my mindless rage, I hadn’t accounted for them or what they might do. The first guard stepped into view, swinging around faster than I’d have imagined they could move in their heavy flak armor. In his hands was a black baton that measured almost two feet long.
No panic flashed in my mind, even as I realized how big of a mistake I’d made. I grabbed hold of the back of the Brit’s jacket and tried to yank him toward me, even as I felt the baton stab me in the ribs.
Heated pain blossomed up and down my flank, and spread over my whole body as I contorted in shock at the electric current suddenly coursing through my body. I spasmed, my teeth clenching hard against my screams as I tried to get a better hold on the Brit.
Another stab from the baton. More agony joined the flower garden of torment in my body as the guard on the other side stepped in.
I screamed again, but still tightened my grip on his suit coat, trying to pull him closer with my suddenly weakened limbs.
“Vanessa! Stop it, you bastards, you’re hurting her!”
The slimy little Brit twisted from my grasp with a little chuckle as my fingers lost control and released my grip on him. He stepped away further into the hall as the guards prodded me again and again in the sides.
I wailed, a throaty, agonizing scream like a banshee, as my whole body convulsed under the shocks, my arms and legs kicking aimlessly.
“Had enough?” the Brit asked as the guards paused.
In reply, I just reached out for the closest guard’s eyes, my fingers curled into makeshift claws.
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