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“I’m not saying anything else until I get an attorney.”

He shook his head. “Okay. If that’s the way you want to play…”

He left the room and I stared over at the mirror, making sure they knew I was mad as hell.

* * *

Someone eventually came back into the room. Seeing my new visitor, I stared him in the eyes, my gaze full of rage. When he undid my handcuffs, I slid the chair back and stood, causing him to take a step back and put his hand on the gun at his hip.

“I’m not doing anything,” I said, raising my hands. “Where are you taking me now?”

“We’re setting you free.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

The man shook his head nervously.

“Well, I’ll be talking to my attorney about this,” I said.

“You can do whatever you want,” Mr. Sully’s voice said through a speaker.

I glanced up at it, and then over to the mirror. “You’re fucking with the wrong man.”

“Yeah? Get used to it. We’ll have our eyes on you.”

I bet you will, I thought, glaring at my reflection.

“Let’s go,” the man in the room said. “I’ll escort you out.”

I stepped toward the door.

“Oh, Warren—one more thing,” Sully said.

“What?”

“Stay away from Rose. If you go near her, we’ll bring you in and throw the book at both of you. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I muttered.

“Good. It’s just until we get all of this resolved. Thanks for understanding. Have a nice day.”

I walked out of the room and down a nondescript hallway void of life.

How can they treat me like this after I served my country in Afghanistan? I thought in disbelief.

Memories of everything that had gone on in connection with the smuggling filtered through my mind, images and sounds rushing past my consciousness as I walked.

One foot in front of another carried me to the elevator. After a ride down to the lobby, I went outside, where I stopped to soak in some fresh air.

Determination took hold of me and I knew that no matter what happened, I had to contact Rose.

She was all that really mattered to me.

If one person could help me see her without getting caught, it was Ryan. Even though I knew they were likely listening to my phone, I didn’t want to destroy it. So instead, I bought a roll of aluminum foil from a corner store and wrapped the phone in it, cutting off the signal.

Rose might not be able to get through if she tried to call, but at least the feds wouldn’t be able to track my movements while I went to find Ryan—the man whose friendship had made my time served in Afghanistan tolerable. I hated to drag him into the mess, but I had to have someone trustworthy on my side. Ryan fit the bill to a T; I respected no other man more.

As I headed toward his apartment by way of back alleys, I thought more about my next move.