Page 24

Sean

Subject: L. KOSKINEN

Status: TERMINATION, TO BE COMPLETED BY JAN14

I stare at the two lines of the encrypted memo.

Time has ceased to exist, my vision going fuzzy the longer I focus on the screen. My heart sank to my feet the first time I read it before that dread morphed into disbelief. Now I’m so angry that I can’t even read the words anymore. Hands balled into fists, I lean over the shitty computer screen. Did Thompson not hear me? I’m convinced that she isn’t a terrorist. And now I’m expected to kill her?

Termination doesn’t seem right. I don’t understand. Jace is right; there’s no way she’s squeaky clean, but I’d stake my own life on her innocence of most of the charges that landed her here.

I’m not capable of killing her. I won’t be able to go through with that, and there’s zero fucking chance that I could stand there and watch Jace do it. She’s someone’s sister . I have a sister, for Christ’s sake, and if someone simply shut a door in her face, I’d disembowel them. The idea of snuffing out her light fills me with an unholy amount of rage. Fuck, I’m such a hypocrite.

The slender predator isn’t giving me the knowledge I need to keep her alive. If only there was a way to siphon information from her, even if it meant breaking a few more rules in the process.

I’ve never struggled to follow orders before, but I don’t know what other option I have.

What the army wants, the army gets. And right now, they want Lou’s head.

Bile races up my throat, but I shut it down by leaning into my ire. Clutching the first thing I can lay my hands on, I chuck the small, empty trashcan into the wall across the room, the plastic splitting in half with the force.

“Whoa, fuck. You good?”

My gaze shifts from the broken plastic shards to meet Jace’s wide-eyed gaze in the doorway, and I shake my head. Wheeling the office chair aside so Jace can look at the screen, he moves toward the computer, tugging off his mask. I know the second he’s read the words because his jaw tightens, the muscle ticking.

“What do we do?” he asks in a quiet voice, still staring at the screen.

“Let’s go to the roof,” I declare instead. I can’t sit in this room anymore. Besides, I want to go somewhere that Big fucking Brother can’t watch me lose my shit more than I already have.

On the roof, I stare up at the emerging twinkling stars speckled across the night sky while Jace begins chain smoking. The sun has just disappeared, so there’s still a streak of light peeking through. If I were superstitious or believed in omens, I’d probably find the dash of light in the dark sky encouraging, but I’m not and I don’t.

I’m fucked. Jace is fucked. Lou’s fucked.

“I can’t believe that’s what they decided to do with her,” he mumbles.

“They must think she’s a loose end and we know how much the government hates those,” I explain. I should’ve seen this coming. Would Lou have had more time if I had never said anything? Did I doom her to an early death? It’s true that no good deed goes unpunished.

I should’ve had longer—at least another month—before the hourglass officially ran out. However, I thought I’d found a way to turn the timer back over with the revelation that I suspect she isn’t the criminal we thought she was.

“Is there anything we can do?” he asks, halfway through his second cigarette.

“Fuck, I don’t know. We could try talking to her, telling her what’s going on. Maybe she’d be more willing to talk.”

“That’d only postpone the inevitable, though, right? What would be the point?”

I sit up in my seat, running a hand over my buzzed hair, thinking about tossing the mask in my hand into the damn wind, before leaning forward on my elbows. “It could possibly buy us some time.”

He falls silent, contemplating my words. We don’t have the luxury of time or options. The hourglass only has a few grains of sand left.

Louhi

“Don’t tell me you missed me,” I chime, as Honey Eyes reappears before my cell. He’s long since collected my dinner tray, so I’m surprised to see him again.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he replies, his voice silky smooth. I’ll never pass up a change in venue, and though I’m far used to the shitty lighting and rancid stench of this cell, I still jump at every chance to escape, even for a few hours. Fuck, I’ll be glad when I never see this hellhole again. I have to tell myself that there will be an after to all of this. Without that, my spirit is crushed entirely, and Digs might not be there to pull me out next time .

Honey Eyes unlocks my cell, and I step into the hallway. While he walks at my back, I don’t see any of the other guards who are usually around when I’m being escorted somewhere, which has my hackles rising, my mind slipping into high alert.

I’m made to stop in front of the usual torture room and resist the shiver that threatens to make its way to my pussy as memories of the last few sessions in here flood my mind. Fuck, I hope there’s another one waiting for me.

I don’t have time to explore that depravity as the door swings open to reveal a stoic looking Digs sitting at the metal table in the middle of the room. Honey Eyes presses a hand to my back, encouraging me to walk inside. The sound of the door shutting ricochets ominously through the room as Honey Eyes leads me to the chair opposite his friend and my shackles are attached to the bolts in the floor. Silence fills the room as Honey Eyes takes up residence against the wall at Digs’s back, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“We need to talk,” Digs explains opposite me, his forearms resting on the table.

Nothing good begins with that statement.

My gaze slides to the camera blinking in the corner of the room, and Honey Eyes follows my line of sight. A moment later, he drags a chair over, stands on it, and rips it straight from the wall.

I swear I hear him mutter something about it not working anyway as he stalks back out of the room like a proper assistant, leaving me alone with Digs, and shutting the door behind him.

Something about this meeting feels rather odd and my body becomes primed for a fight, apprehension needling me. I scan the rest of the room, unable to find anything else out of place, but I keep my guard up higher than usual. What in hell’s paradise is happening here?

“Lou,” Digs starts over, taking a deep breath. I study his eyes and see something new and unfamiliar lurking within the silver of his gaze. He seems unsettled, his shoulders stiff and his posture rigid, and I realize it’s body language I’ve never seen from him .

“I need you to answer my questions.”

I lean back in my seat, attempting to get comfortable as I exhale noisily. Relief slides through my muscles, relaxing me marginally at the realization that this is nothing more than another attempt to glean information from me.

The lilt to my British accent is thick as I state plainly, “Digs, we’ve been through this before, but in case the message has been unclear, allow me to be direct: I have nothing to say to you.”

“That’s just it. You don’t have anything to say to me because you didn’t do what you’ve been accused of. You don’t say anything because you don’t know .”

Blimey! I’ll admit that I didn’t see that one coming, and I don’t care for being blindsided. I didn’t anticipate this tosser working any of that out either, and Mercer’s going to be put the fuck out when he discovers that. Keeping my face completely neutral, I turn into a bloodhound, sniffing out what he thinks he knows.

“Is that the conclusion you reach every time a prisoner doesn’t tell you what you want?”

“Drop the act, Lou. Neither of us have the time. Listen to me when I say that you need to tell me what you know.”

Neither of us have the time. What the fuck does that mean? Is that simply a turn of phrase or the foreshadowing of something far more ominous?

Instead of asking that, I inquire casually, “And why should I trust you? The man who tortured me for information?”

He has the audacity to look guilty as my words appear to pierce him. I’m surprised that he doesn’t clutch his invisible wound. After all, he does have a flare for the dramatics.

I’d be lying if I said that his regretful expression didn’t have my stomach twisting a bit, though. Anguish floods his blue-grey eyes, but I refuse to let that affect me more than it already has; instead, I reinforce the walls around my heart and head.

“I don’t blame you for not trusting me, and I’m not sure there’s anything I can say to change that, but I want to try. What if we exchange a little honesty?”

Remaining silent, I wait for him to continue. I’ll be damned if I slice open my vein first. If my chains would allow me to cross my arms over my chest, I would, if only to hide the wariness floating down my skin like fog creeping into a forest.

“I know you didn’t attempt to blow up the Federal Reserve. You didn’t kidnap one of the members of the Board of Governors or attempt to kidnap two more. You didn’t destroy or set fire to any buildings. Maybe you hacked into the Fed’s system and did some spying—I’m not positive there. The only thing I am sure about is that murder is no problem for you, so that part is probably accurate.”

Leaning forward, I summon a glimpse of my cunning, vicious, sanguinary personality to the surface of my expression. He’s right—murder isn’t a problem for me. In fact, I bloody like it. I steal lives so often that I don’t even really think about it other than to reflect on the pleasant memories associated with some of my more brilliant moments.

“You don’t know me, Digs. You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

He leans closer, his eyes drilling into mine so intently that I swear he can read my mind and decipher the etchings on my heart. He doesn’t know me, though, and if he did, he wouldn’t like what he saw, c ould he?

He’s right about everything except for the arson. I’ve set buildings, and people, on fire before, but I wasn’t responsible for this attack on the Fed. I took no part in that except for some mild hacking to discover the building’s plans and security protocol for Mercer. I was stupid not to find out what the hell Mercer had gotten himself wrapped up in, but it’s not like we had time to sit down for tea and discuss his plans in depth. Besides, my brother is the one person I’ve never questioned before, although I’m regretting not pursuing that line of questioning .

I didn’t even know about the kidnapping until Digs mentioned it originally, and I didn’t learn who was snatched until just now. The Board of Governors… Really, Mercer?

“Maybe not entirely, but I know enough to know that you don’t deserve to die.”

“We all deserve to die.”

“You may be right, but we don’t all deserve to die in the next three days.”

Three days? Oh, bloody shit! Is he bluffing? It doesn’t look like he’s bluffing, but that’s the entire point of a poker face. And, if he’s not, how the hell am I going to get out of here in three fucking days?

Damn, time is running out.

I take a breath, reminding myself that I will find a way out of here if it’s the last thing I do. I will not die here. I will see Finland again. I’ll wrap my arms around Mercer and kick his arse for putting me in this position.

I have to hold on to hope.

Hope for escape. Hope for a future. Hope for me.

“Answer something for me.” Choosing to call his bluff, my inner serpent lifts her head, baring her sharp, bloodthirsty fangs, dripping with venomous anticipation. “What’s it like?”

“What’s what like?”

“Being trapped in here with me?”

His eyes sharpen as he snorts. “I could ask you the same thing. You’re the one trapped with an alpha.”

The bellicose smile I wear drips with the renewed promise of retribution. “Digs, you may be an alpha, but I’m an apex predator. I’m most dangerous when I’m hungry, and right now I’m bloody starving .”