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Fire?

The voice sounds like Reggie’s. Or is it wishful thinking? Does he even speak Spanish?

He’s been around three times as long as I have and traveled the world far more. I’m sure he speaks dozens of languages. Knows thousands of secret hiding places, a thousand tricks for smuggling and safety.

Damn it. I should have run when he offered me the chance. Why did I doubt that he could keep me safe?

Well, he didn’t, did he?

I shush my inner monologue. I know there is a reason, and I know that it didn’t stop him. He’s here now—at least, I hope he is.

Please don’t be drug-induced delusions...

Rough hands suddenly grab me and roll me to the floor. I cry out as I land, my bound hands tingling with pain and my shoulders forced so far back I’m afraid they’ll pop out of their sockets. A thin hotel comforter is thrown over my head and pulled down to cover my body as I’m wedged between the wall and bed.

“Move, you die. Talk, you die.” Something hard presses into the top of my skull.

I don’t move. I don’t talk.

I can barely hear over my own heart beating, but I hear the door open and shut.

Then nothing.

After a minute, the pressure leaves my skull. “You move, you die. I’m not leaving the room, just going to the door. Don’t try to be cute.”

The door opens again. There’s a sharp grunt and a heavy thud before the door shuts and bolts.

Someone just got knocked out. Or worse. Please don’t let it be Reggie.

“Teri?”

I gasp under the comforter. “Mmf!”

“Therese!”

The blanket flies off, and Reggie is kneeling over me with tears in his eyes. “Oh, sweetie. Oh, my love,mein neshama, I’m sorry. It’s okay now. It’s all okay.” Reggie removes whatever is over my eyes and takes the fabric out of my mouth.

“I thought they hurt you,” I blurt out, blinking, eyes struggling to adjust.

“No. I hurt them.”

As he flicks a knife through my bindings, I crane my neck. One thug is on the ground, blood coming from his nose and head. “Did you shoot him?” I gasp, even though I didn’t hear a gunshot.

“Not yet.”

I notice blood on the knife.

“Where’s the other guy?” I whisper.

“Behind the dumpster.”

“Dead?”

“Not sure. Probably not.” Reggie picks me up as I whimper. My shoulders and arms are useless, and my hands are purple. “You’re going to be okay. You haven’t even been here for two hours. We moved fast.”

“Okay. Good. Reggie—someone at WITSEC is a—”

“Spy for Estrada? I know. I found out too late, but thank God, nottootoo late.” He kisses me on the forehead as he carries me toward the door. “You’re alive. Teri... Teri, I’m so sorry. I failed you and —”