Chapter 27 Wylder
WYLDER
My eyes blink open, and the first emotion I feel is surprise.
I’m not dead.
I don’t believe in the afterlife, and even if I did, I wouldn’t be going to the one with bright lights such as the ones in this room.
There’s a shuffling sound to my right. Remembering my training, I close my eyes and will my body still. I’m not alone in this room, and I need as much information as possible before whoever’s here realizes I’m awake.
I start with my body. A small wriggle of my toes. A gentle flex of my fingers. Okay. That’s good. No spinal injuries. Various muscles are aching, suggesting I’m bruised, but that’s fine. Bruises I can deal with.
Most of the pain seems to be coming from my shoulder, which makes sense. The blast likely burned me. Given I’ve been laid on my back, it’s no surprise that it’s hurting.
It also suggests that the Umbra aren’t as unintelligent as previously thought, the suspicions that arose just before the explosion making me wonder if this whole thing is an elaborate trap. A trap that we skipped into without even realizing it was going to slam shut.
Injuries cataloged, I turn my attention to my bindings. Zip ties. Not ideal, but I’ve escaped from worse. My legs are free, which’ll make it easier.
Next, I focus on the footsteps moving around me. Two sets. Heavy. Big guys.
I wait until the steps fade away and chance a quick glance around. I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed to be alone.
Please let Neo be okay.
I’m not worried about my brothers. If they’ve been taken too, they’re likely in a similar setup to this one. Escaping from this situation is barely a challenge for any of us, including Harley.
But Neo…Neo isn’t us.
I swallow back the panic. Panic won’t help me save him if he’s in danger. I need to be focused. Calm.
Deadly.
There’s an empty table beside me that’s likely identical to the one I’m on. I don’t need to study it closely. It’s one I’m familiar with—metal but lightweight. The kind that can be put up before being folded away for storage. Easy to clean and convenient. We used to use them ourselves.
Until a captive managed to flip it over while still tied to it, almost taking Samson out in doing so. It was Matthias’s quick actions that had him subdued before he could do any real damage.
After that, we swapped to built-in tables. More of a hassle to clean, but being bolted to the floor, they can’t be used as a weapon. That’s the beauty of The Firm. We don’t just have generations of experience to call upon; we’re always evolving. Growing. Adapting.
Umbra might’ve gotten the upper hand tonight, but we’re still several steps ahead of them.
And we always will be.
I plan my movement, going over it in my head again and again until I don’t need to think about it anymore.
Then, I wait.
“Why isn’t he waking up?” a gruff voice says, footsteps shuffling closer. “Think he’s dead?”
“Nah, he’s still breathing.” Frustration bubbles through me. The voice is too far away for my plan to work. “Start with the torture. Bet that’ll wake him up fast.”
I fight to keep my muscles loose. I don’t want to be tortured by these fuckers. I mean, ideally, I wouldn’t be tortured by anyone. But if it’s going to happen, I’d rather it not be Umbra. There’s an art to it. I doubt they have any of the finesse we use.
“Bring me the blowtorch,” the first voice says. “Let’s see how much more of his skin we can melt off before he wakes up.”
My pulse ticks up as the footsteps move again. “Don’t hog it, though. I want a turn.”
“Right? I’m amazed the boss is letting us do this. Figured he’d want the privilege of torturing the mighty Wylder Buckingham himself.”
“Same. Says he’s got his hands full with the kid though.”
There’s a snicker. “You’re telling me. Who knew that scrawny fucker could fight like that? Little shit almost took my eye out.”
My heart stops in my chest. No, no, no.
“It’s a good thing you clubbed him with his helmet when you did,” the man continues. “What even was that, anyway? Blue-haired shit looked like he should’ve been at a Renaissance Faire, not on an undercover mission.”
Ice flares through me.
They have Neo.
My Neo.
I can’t wait another second.
Thankfully, I don’t have to. The second guy’s footsteps come to a halt right beside me. “Here, why don’t you—”
He doesn’t get a chance to finish that sentence.
Opening my eyes, I swing my legs off the opposite side of the table. The muscles in my arms scream, the burn on my shoulder joining in, but I just let it fuel me. I let all the pain, anger, and fear drive me upward, pulling the table with me.
There’s a yell of surprise. I don’t hesitate. The table is cumbersome, and I have little control, given my wrists are strapped to it.
But it’s heavy.
That’s all I need.
Letting out a roar, I throw my shoulders sideways. The table goes with them, catching man number one in the temple. He crumples to the floor.
Man two is scrambling for his gun. There’s a nasty scratch along the side of his eye.
From Neo.
“Wait,” he says as I storm toward him. “Just—”
I walk straight up to him and headbutt him as hard as I can.
Apparently, my skull is thicker than his.
My ears are ringing as I pull back, but I don’t give a shit about that. Not as the other guy slides to the floor, his eyes rolling back in his head.
“The whole point of the table is to actually use it.”
I whirl around at the sound of Samson’s voice. He’s in the doorway, Matthias at his side. Samson’s sporting a black eye, and Matthias has a nasty-looking graze on his collarbone. Aside from that, they appear uninjured. “I did for the first one. But he mentioned Neo.”
My brothers’ faces harden. Matthias is the one who speaks. “They have him?”
I nod curtly. “Yes. He was knocked unconscious, but that’s all I know.”
Samson crosses the room, grabbing a knife from a tray. “All these toys assembled, and I doubt a single one of them knows how to use them properly.”
I hold still as he cuts the cable ties, grateful I don’t need to snap them myself. “Have you found the others?”
“Negative,” Matthias responds, slipping into the mission speak we rely on in times like these. “All rooms between mine and Samson’s are empty.”
“Fuckers are deserting like rats on a sinking ship,” Samson adds. “Took one look at me and Matthias not tied up and ran the other way. Cowards.”
Okay, so some of us use official mission speak.
“We need a plan,” I say, pacing the room. “Do we know where we are?”
There’s not a lot in the room to give it away. The two tables. A long worktop littered with weapons. A dusty computer on a desk in the corner.
But this isn’t some playground setup. Not with the high-grade cameras pointing at us from every direction. We likely won’t have long before someone checks the feeds and realizes we’re loose, if they haven’t already.
“Some kind of military installation,” Matthias says. “Multiple floors. I found a window and estimate we’re on the fourth or fifth level.”
I exhale slowly. Not great, but again, we’ve survived worse. “Do we know if the others were captured or if they managed to escape?”
Those are the only options I’ll allow myself to consider right now. Because the alternative…
No. I can’t even think about it.
“We don’t know,” Samson says, his fingers tightening around the dagger. “I came to first and found Matthias. Then we came straight here.”
“We walked into a trap,” Matthias says heavily. “It was too easy. We should’ve known.”
Having already come to this realization, I just nod. “We can dissect it after. Right now, our priority is finding the others and Neo.”
Neo.
Neo.
Neo.
His name’s resounding in time with my heartbeat, begging me to move. To get to him faster.
My monster is silent for once, giving my brain space to think. To plan. To prioritize. Like me, he knows this is the best way to get Neo back where he belongs.
In our arms.
“Okay,” I say, coming to a halt in the center of the room. “Here’s what’s going to happen.”
Before I can share my plan, a loud beeping comes from the corner of the room. I glance over to see a computer sitting on a desk. “Did that just—?”
It beeps again.
“It could be a trap,” Matthias warns as I draw nearer.
My lips tug up incredulously as I stare at the lines appearing on the screen. “It’s not. It’s Ansel.”
“What?” Samson barks.
We crowd around the desk, watching as lines of text appear on the screen. The first, I’ve already read, but more are appearing with each second that passes.
It’s Ansel.
Please let this work.
I can’t make it keep fucking beeping.
Oh good, there you are.
We can see you from the camera in the corner. I have it on a loop, so anyone watching will think you’re all still restrained and guarded.
My head snaps up to the camera. “Ansel? Do you know where Neo is? Is he okay?”
Sorry, dude, can’t hear you.
You three and Neo were the only ones taken. As soon as we realized what was happening, I started tracking you all using your watches.
Suddenly, I’m so fucking grateful Neo had them looped in on the feed.
I glance down to see I’m still wearing my watch. Thank god for small mercies.
Neo doesn’t wear one.
He doesn’t. Fuck. After today, I’m going to make sure he’s got a tracker on him at all times.
“Are the others okay?” Matthias asks urgently.
Ansel can’t hear us, but he must know that’s what we’re worried about, because he answers it in his next message.
Cade, Harley, and Dalton went off the opposite side of the boat so escaped the worst of the blast. The fire kept them from getting to you in time. They’re safe and with us.
“Thank fuck,” Matthias sighs, Samson grunting in agreement. “Having them on the outside can only help.”
Wyatt is driving us all to your location now.
Matthias shoves me out of the way, glaring at the screen as he barks, “He’s fucking what?”
I told Wyatt you seem upset, Matthias, and he said several words that would take too long to type. The general message is that if you’re in danger, then he’s coming to save you.
I can’t take it anymore. I look directly into the camera, mouthing slowly and clearly, just two words. “Where’s Neo?”
The response takes a painfully long time to come through.
We don’t know for sure.
“Fuck,” I roar, slamming my fist into the wall. At least, I try, but it collides with Samson’s shoulder at the last second. I glare at my brother mutinously. “Why the fuck did you get in my way?”
“Because we need you without a broken hand.” Samson winces, rolling his shoulder. “Jesus, you can pack a punch.”
“Neo is out there,” I hiss. I want to scream the words, but I can’t have us getting caught before I’ve saved him. “He’s out there, and he’s in danger.”
Matthias’s hands grab my cheeks, his dark eyes steady. “Wylder, you’ve got to hang on, man.”
“Like fuck I do.” I shove his hands away, glaring at him. “If Wyatt were the one taken, you wouldn’t be fucking hanging on.”
“No, I wouldn’t,” he agrees grimly. “But you’d be forcing me to, because you know better than all of us that we need to keep our wits about us if we’re to save him.”
A muscle jumps in my jaw, and I exhale shakily. “You’re right. Fuck.”
“If you’re done, Ansel has more for us,” Samson says from next to the computer. “He’s hacked the national planning server and downloaded the designs for the building.”
“He’s far too clever for Cade,” I mutter, leaning over his shoulder to study the images flicking up one by one.
“There,” I say suddenly, waving at the camera and pointing behind me. Ansel must understand me, because the previous floor plan flashes up, and I point to part of it. “Look. This room here.”
The whole building is a square with a courtyard in the middle. Every floor is full of smaller rooms like the one we’re in.
All except the sixth, directly above us.
One entire side of that floor is a single room. On either end, there’s a kitchen and bathroom.
“That’s where we’ll find Gordon,” I say.
“Are you sure?” Samson asks dubiously. “There are hundreds of rooms here, Wylder. He could be in any of them.”
“He could,” I say grimly, “but he’s not. He’ll be in the biggest, grandest room of all. Think of the yacht. The guy likes flashy, showy things. Whatever he’s got planned, it’s not going to go down in a poky space like this one.”
The map is replaced by a line of text from Ansel.
Cade and Dalton agree you should look there first. I’ve been digging into this guy some more, and it tracks with his personality to want the biggest and the best. Gordon was born poor and has worked himself up to being a millionaire through grift and corruption.
I wonder why Harley doesn’t agree, but Ansel’s next message answers that.
Jules is too busy fussing over Harley for him to have much of a say.
“Okay, so that’s where we’ll find Marino.” Matthias taps his finger against the desk. “How do we know Neo is with him?”
“One of those fuckers said he wasn’t bothering with us because he’s focused on Neo,” I say, jerking my head at the prone bodies on the floor. I’m surprised they haven’t stirred yet. I must’ve hit them both harder than I thought.
Good.
“Why, though?” Samson says, his brow furrowed. “Why Neo?”
“Because he’s mine,” I say heavily, rubbing my forehead. “They’re hitting us where it hurts the most.”
“He must have another reason though,” Matthias says. “Why didn’t they just kill us?”
Why indeed?
I run through all the possibilities. Why has Neo been specifically targeted? Why have they been gathering evidence on The Firm? On us?
I’m left with one answer.
And one way of dealing with it.
My brothers won’t like it, but it’s our only option. I won’t risk Neo by getting this wrong.
Taking a deep breath, I look between the two. “I have a plan.”