Chapter 47
SILAS
Idrive like a bat out of hell.
The city blurs past the windows as I push my car through intersections without slowing. At this hour, the streets are mine, and I devour them quickly.
The destination: a cold storage warehouse.
My phone vibrates on the console. Valen. He and my other men moved in about five minutes before I left the house.
“We’re in position,” he says. “Six men on the perimeter. Four going in with us. Thermal imaging shows one heat signature inside. Stationary. Ground level.”
One heat signature.
Assumably Nessa. That doesn’t sound right.
“No guards?” I ask.
“None visible. No vehicles in the lot. No movement on any approach.”
My spine tingles.
One hostage. No guards. No vehicles. It doesn’t make sense.
It’s more than likely a trap. But right now I need to keep my focus on driving and getting there alive. Once on-site, I will make the call. Until then, the plan remains in place.
“Okay, standby,” I instruct. “I’m two minutes away.”
I increase the speed and tear up the space between me and the warehouse in under two minutes.
When I pull into the deserted parking lot, Valen materializes at my window before I’ve even opened the door.
“Any change?” I ask, stepping out.
“No movement. Single heat signature hasn’t shifted in twelve minutes.”
I scan the warehouse. “Have you done a perimeter sweep?”
“Of course. There is nothing.”
My jaw clenches. Something doesn’t feel right. I quickly calculate multiple outcomes, always three steps ahead, but right now, I’m not feeling like I’m ahead. Something is missing.
However, going in is the only option.
Trap or no trap, I need to get Nessa out of that warehouse. I promised Leonore.
“I’m going in,” I tell Valen. “Alone.”
“No way. Not without backup.”
“This is probably a trap. You protect me from the perimeter,” I instruct him.
“Silas, there is not a man here tonight that won’t want to follow you inside that warehouse,” Valen is quick to say. “This is family.”
It serves as a reminder of Pietro’s recent death and my two men who had to be cut down from the rafters only days ago. I know Valen. He won’t let this go. And we’re wasting time. This is personal for all of us.
“We go in fast,” I say. “Clear the space. Eyes on everything. If it smells wrong, we pull back.”
Valen relays the order with a series of hand signals, and the team moves. Six men outside cover every possible exit. Four follow Valen and me, our weapons drawn and hand gestures our only form of communication.
I press my back against the wall beside the door and listen.
There is nothing.
No voices or footsteps.
I nod to Valen, and he pushes the door inward, and we move.
The inside of the warehouse is vast and dark. There is a wide sweeping floor of stained concrete and a high ceiling, almost lost in darkness. And in the center of it is Nessa, still bound in the chair and unmoving.
I move toward her with my gun raised, my eyes sweeping the darkness for any sign of movement.
When I reach Nessa, I crouch in front of her. Her head is slumped forward with her chin resting against her chest, and for one sickening moment, I think she’s dead.
I press two fingers to her neck and feel for her pulse. It’s weak, but it’s there.
She’s alive.
“Nessa.” I tap her cheek. Gently at first, then harder. “Nessa, can you hear me?”
She groans. Her head moves. Just slightly. A small move that tells me she’s in there.
I pull the knife from my belt and slice through the zip ties. Her arms fall limp to her sides, and she rolls forward, and I have to stop her from falling to the floor.
“I’ve got you,” I say, lifting her from the chair. She moans, and her head lolls against my shoulder.
“Building’s clear,” Valen says, appearing beside me. His expression is neutral, but in his eyes I can see the same unease that’s been crawling up my spine since we walked in.
This has all been a little too easy. Even the location retrieval.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” I say, already moving toward the door with Nessa in my arms.
We’re halfway across the floor when one word rings out through the darkness.
“Bomb,” someone cries.
My blood goes cold.
“Run.” Valen’s voice tears through the silence.
But I’m already running with Nessa in my arms, and around me my men sprint for an exit.
I burst through the door and into the night, and the cold air hits my face like a wall. My car is a hundred yards away. But before I can make it, the world behind me blows apart.
The sound is enormous. An avalanche of violence and heat and power. The shock wave lifts me off my feet and throws me forward, and we hit the asphalt.
I curl around Nessa to protect her as fire and debris rain down on us.
When it’s silent and the debris stops falling, I lift my head and look around.
The warehouse is destroyed. Nothing remains but a skeleton of twisted steel and concrete.
I check Nessa. She is still unconscious but unharmed from the explosion.
“Valen!” I shout, my voice muffled behind the ringing in my ears.
“Here.” He emerges from behind one of the vehicles, bleeding from a cut above his eye. “I’m good.”
“Everyone else?” I ask as I rise to my feet and look around. I see my men pick themselves out of the rubble.
“Accounted for.”
I stare at the decimated warehouse. And very quickly, the pieces fall into place. The empty warehouse. The lack of guards. The door left ajar. The bomb on a timer.
Konstantin didn’t leave Nessa unguarded as a trap.
He left her unguarded because she was the fucking bait.
Panic rips through my chest, and my vision whites out for half a second.
This trap wasn’t set to kill us. It was set to lure me away from Leonore.
“Get back to the house!” I order as I carry Nessa to my car. I can’t think clearly as my mind waves in and out. How did I get this wrong? How did I miscalculate? I’m always three steps ahead.
My focus is razor sharp on the road ahead. I’ve never driven this fast in my life.
Nessa is in the passenger seat, slumped against the door. She’s half-conscious with her head resting against the window. She should be in the hospital, but there’s no time. Instead, she’s getting a car ride at 140 miles per hour.
Behind me is a blur of headlights. A stream of cars containing my men. Every single one of them is ready for whatever fucking move Konstantin has put into play. But they’re struggling to keep up.
Vibrating with adrenaline, I lose my cool and punch the steering wheel.
I’m fucking smarter than this.
But clouded by emotion, I let Konstantin play me.
I press the accelerator harder because I’ve called Leonore four fucking times, then I called the house, but no one answered.
Because he is there.
Nessa stirs with a groan, and her eyes flutter open. Dazed, she looks around.
“Where the hell…” she croaks.
“You’re safe,” I say without looking at her. “Stay still.”
“Larissa—”
“Leonore is with her. She’s safe.”
But is she? If Konstantin is there, none of them are safe.
I stop the thought before it spirals into something bigger. If I let fear take hold, I’ll lose my edge.
Instead, I allow myself the luxury of a silent vow.
If he has laid a single finger on any of the women currently in my house, I will spend the rest of my life hunting him.
I will visit every corner of the world. Every nook and cranny on Earth.
There will be no rock left unturned for him to hide under.