Chapter 24 Saint
Saint
Ipush up on one arm.
My ribs scream in protest.
The fall knocked the breath out of me, but I’m still conscious.
Still thinking.
Still fighting.
My rifle is gone.
Of course it is.
“You’re very predictable,” she says lightly from above. “Men like you always are.”
I don’t answer.
Talking is wasted oxygen.
Instead I’m counting.
Angles.
Distances.
Depth of the pit.
Positions of the lasers.
Possible exit points.
There aren’t any.
This was built for one purpose.
Capture.
“Where is my granddaughter?” she asks, her tone almost bored.
“You don’t have one,” I say, forcing the words past the pain in my ribs. “Laney and my daughter aren’t related to you.”
She tilts her head slightly.
Studying me.
Like a scientist examining an insect.
“We’ll see about that.”
She lifts one hand in a small gesture.
Two men step into the light behind her.
Professional.
Disciplined.
Weapons steady.
Eyes cold.
Mercenaries.
“You burn my town,” I say quietly. “You threaten my family. And you think you’re walking away from this?”
She smiles.
A slow, amused smile.
“I already am.”
Her gaze drops to me in the bottom of the pit.
“You are the one not walking away.”
She steps closer to the edge, peering down into the darkness where I lie.
Her eyes glitter in the faint light.
“You are not the prize, Mr. Jennings.”
A pause.
Her smile widens slightly.
“You are the message.”
Then she steps back.
And the world goes dark.