Hazy light. Warmth, dragging him toward it. He wanted to stay in the darkness and cold… at least there was no fear here.
Calm, empty silence. No nightmares.
But still, he crawled toward the light… toward sickness and pain… he wasn't sure why, though it felt important, even though his heart rebelled against it… why would anyone want to go toward pain…
His head pounded with a vicious headache. His stomach lurched as if he were seasick. That was because he was moving, he realized. He made himself sit still and the sickness and pain subsided somewhat.
He couldn't move, not very much. Because he was bound. His hands behind his back, rope digging into his wrists.
A scream built in his throat. Panic seizing his chest. He suppressed it but it didn't dissipate completely.
He opened his eyes.
The light stabbed into them and he closed them again.
The gas, he remembered. It had hissed into the cell, knocking him out. And Lily. Where was she?
He risked opening his eyes and looked around the room without moving his head.
He was in a rich bedroom with a lavish rug; a desk stood in front of a window. In the glass pane, he could see the vague reflection of a bed behind him. And beside him in the reflection was—a figure. Bound to a chair like he was.
He looked sideways and saw it was Amber. She was slumped in the chair, ropes around her stomach holding her up. Her head sagged against her chest, her amber hair disheveled, puffed into disarray. Blood slid down her cheek from a wound at the edge of her temple, some of her hair matted. Alarm shot through him. She hadn't gone 'easily' to unconsciousness like he had. Concussions could be dangerous. Though he wasn't sure about that knockout gas either… he didn't recognize its smell or color. But he'd had worse, all things considered.
He knew he should be more alarmed about being captured again, but it was all he could do to focus through the throbbing pain in his head and the sickness. Though, unless it was his imagination or the distraction of examining the room, it seemed to wear off a little… which made sense, as gas usually wore off once you stopped being exposed to it…. Depending on how toxic it was.
Karl of course didn't want to kill them.
He wanted to—
Jason blocked off thoughts of that. He couldn't face it. Though he knew he'd have to.
The door, which wasn't shut all the way, creaked wider open. He gasped, his heart flipping over. Adrenaline raced through his veins, chasing away the mind fog, though not the vice clutching his head.
A young woman with long blond hair sauntered in. She wore a long, white, diaphanous gown. Her blue eyes landed on him dreamily and she almost floated in with an effortless grace and poise. Then she crouched down in front of him, a vague smile crossing her face. "Hello," she said. "Is there anything you require?"
"I need—" His voice was hoarse. He cleared his throat, which sent shockwaves reverberating through his head. "I need to get out of here. Can you help me?"
She contemplated him for a moment, then shook her head. "I'm afraid I can't do that. But do you want some food? A drink of water perhaps?"
Just the thought of food made him sick. But to drink would be heavenly. Though… would Karl poison it…. It was worth the risk, he decided. He needed to keep his strength up. "Some water, please. For my friend, too."
"I don't think she needs it yet," said the young woman, glancing at Amber. "Stay right here." She stood and walked out of the room.
Amber stirred. Jason almost wished she would stay unconscious. But—if they were to work together to get out of here—
She gasped, moaning through clenched teeth.
"Hey—" said Jason. "I'm here."
"N—no offense, but I wish you weren't."
"Me too. Did you—call backup?"
"Yes. But—I just got static. Then this beast came out of nowhere and— knocked me out."
"Beast?"
"This huge man. Did you see him?"
"No. Just… just Karl. Knockout gas."
"I envy you. Sort of. I never experienced it."
"It's…not pleasant."
"Better than getting hit on the head?"
He thought for a moment. "Definitely."
The young woman returned. In her hand she held a water bottle. "Oh!" she said. "The other one's awake."
"Give her some first."
Her brow furrowed. "Are you sure?"
"Yes." His throat ached for cool liquid, but Amber probably needed it more with her blood loss.
The blond woman tilted the bottle at Amber's lips. Amber drank greedily then stopped, drew back, looking at Jason.
"You can drink all of it," he said.
"No, you need it. Who knows…." She eyed the young woman warily.
Grudgingly, Jason agreed. This might be his only chance; who knew what Karl had planned, wherever he was.
The girl wiped the bottle with part of her gown and then slid it into Jason's mouth. Lukewarm water trickled down his throat. He drank quickly, hardly noticing its taste, until the bottle was drained completely. Then she drew it away.
"Do you require anything else?" she said.
"Nothing except… you wouldn't untie us, would you? I could—give you money. I could free you."
"I am free."
"Really? Karl didn't kidnap you?"
"Who is…Karl?"
"The man who lives here."
She smiled beatifically. "The master is good. The master is kind. He loves us and provides for us. Why would we ever want to leave?"
His mind tilted with the implications. She'd probably been ruthlessly brainwashed. Which probably had something to do with that horrific electric device downstairs…. He looked away; Amber's eyes met his, her expression matching his distress.
A touch at his temple. He jerked away. But then the girl rested her palm on his face. Her green eyes earnest…unfocused in an unsettling way. "I can take away your pain…make you feel good." She kissed his cheek, sliding her hand down his chest. "I can give you anything you desire." She whispered close to his ear. "What do you want?" Her hand sank lower.
He pulled away as well as he could, fighting the shock, pain bursting through his skull. "Please—I don't want this."
She pulled away, to his relief. "Oh." She pouted slightly. "The master thought you might want something pleasant… before what's to come. A hint of what you could have… if you…cooperate."
"I'm—never cooperating. And I don't—want—that."
Her eyebrows raised. "Everyone does. Especially men."
"All I want is to get out. I can take you with me."
"But I don't want to go! Besides, the master would punish us severely."
"If he punishes you, that isn't freedom."
"But why would we rebel against someone good? He takes care of all of us. You will learn it. Everyone does." She smiled, the corner of her mouth tilting, an insane light in her eyes. Then she turned and walked slowly out the door.
Jason took a deep breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
"I don't want to end up a zombie like that," said Amber.
"You won't. We're getting out of here."
"I…gotta start working on these ropes. They're really tight. Have you seen Ali?"
"No," he said, just remembering in time not to shake his head. "Not since before we went into the basement."
"Well… he is…one of them." She said the last few words in a whisper.
"I should've been more cautious. But her screams—"
"We both tried to help. There's no shame in that. I just wish I knew…."
The unspoken words hung in the air. What had happened to the girls.
The door creaked open again. This time, it was Karl. Or Zamian. Whoever he was.
Karl stopped a few feet in front of them. "So, you didn't want my gift?"
Jason didn't dignify that with an answer. Besides, he didn't want to speak more than he had to… it still hurt his head, although it was gradually getting better.
"This next part is going to be less pleasant. You'll get a reward if you cooperate, but I don't expect cooperation at this stage. Resistance gives me something to work with. Eventually, you'll be twisted into a shape I want. Then…. You'll get some reprieve. But for now…" He stepped over to Amber. Slid his fingers into her curls, then yanked her head back. She gasped.
With his other hand, Karl caressed her cheek. "Such a unique shade… And that fire… Yes, there's definitely something special here." His thumb plucked her lower lip. She yanked her head away; he pulled her head back further, tilting the chair against the baseboard of the bed. "Just the sort I'm looking for." He released her, slamming the chair legs back onto the floor. Karl looked down at her appreciatively. "Yes, an exotic creature like you—won't be hard fetching the highest prices, especially with a custom specialty."
Karl was hiding it well, but he must be in agony with the gunshot wound and Markov's torture. Even if he'd managed to get some painkillers, it wouldn't dull it completely.
Karl stepped toward Jason. "Now you, Jason—I could just discard you…. but I've never been one to turn away from a challenge. A waste of potential to just—waste you." He tapped the gun at his hip. "What should I do with you…. Perhaps see how you react. You hide it well, but I saw the fear in your eyes. I've seen it many times before. You've been wounded." He dragged his finger down Jason's cheek, right at the edge of his scar.
Ice grasped Jason's heart. Phantom pains snapped into his scars.
"Let's get a look at the damage." He slid his hand to Jason's chest and tugged down his shirt. Then, he ripped.
Terror flashed white through his mind.
In the cabin—the shirt torn from him.
Ramon's lair—his scars laid bare for all to see.
And—the video. What they'd done to Elliot. Trauma he hadn't experienced ripped through his mind. But it looked like it might be his future.
No.
I'm getting out. I'm rescuing Elliot. The kids.
I'm never leaving Connie alone.
He struggled. Yanking against the ropes, barely feeling the pain
A backhanded blow stunned him; his head sagged against his chest for a moment. There had been metal in that blow, he realized; warm liquid trickled down his cheek. The gun glinted in Karl's fist.
Hatred gleamed in Karl's eyes. Then melted into detached eagerness. "You'll learn that struggling will do you no good. You're mine now. Get used to it."
"Never."
He smirked. "They all say that at first. That is, until they meet Molly."
"Who's that?"
"I believe you've seen it. I watched you try to rescue Kaya. You got a little taste of its electric bite, didn't you? It's very effective way of conditioning. It's what breaks you, in the end. The drugs… they disorient you, make you compliant. Then, I finish you with an exquisite final touch. First, though…. something a little more hands-on. As a treat." He yanked Jason's hair back. Pain ripped through his head.
Karl caressed his cheek, then slapped it, laughing. A punch rammed into his stomach, knocking out his air.
The next thing he knew, a knife was slitting his shirt down the center.
Another shirt casualty, he thought vaguely, his head spinning.
Karl ripped the shreds of it off of him and stood back, hand on his chin. "Hm, interesting. Yes, quite the scarring." He stepped around to the back. "I see you've experienced whipping. That's a fun tool… and can be quite effective." He touched Jason's back, sliding his finger down one of the scars near his shoulder blade.
Fire laced down his back as images flashed through his mind—hanging in that cabin… blood flying onto the floorboards… He could smell it. Taste it.
"Leave him alone!" said Amber.
"I could return to you."
"I'd welcome it!"
"Really. Well, you'll get your chance. Right now… I'm intrigued. Not often do I have an agent in my hands. A man who's…gotten the better of me, however briefly." He slid his hand further down along the scar on Jason's back, his touch horribly cold.
Amber protested but Karl didn't reply, murmuring to himself. Then he stepped in front of Jason. Jason's vision blurred. A tear slid down his cheek, burned into the wound just broken open over his cheekbone.
"I can see this affects you. Being bound… it's happened before. Helplessness is what breaks more slaves than anything. I think you will be a stunning one. In this business, you have to think of the client first. The kind that would want such a product… I'm thinking someone who has psychological wounds of their own… a woman who was hurt by a man, perhaps, and now wants to return the favor. Or a man… who's had someone stronger beat him into the dust. Or just someone who enjoys seeing a beautiful creature completely in their power…."
He lifted his cane, pressed it under Jason's chin, tilting it upwards a little. "That fire in your eyes, mixed with fear… that vulnerability and strength—such an intoxicating combination! I'd be tempted to keep you for myself, only…It would be an indulgence, as I have enough slaves. However, you did take me down, temporarily—throw me into the security service's hands—" He tapped Jason's chin, not especially gently, then walked away, pacing the room. His knee faltered slightly and he swore. Then he swung back toward Jason, rage in his eyes.
Jason just had a moment to brace himself, though he knew it wouldn't do much good.
Wham! The cane slammed across his jaw. Bright sparks glittered across his vision. Then came the pain in sickly waves. It felt as if his jaw had shattered.
Fight fair, he thought, then we'll see who wins.
He struggled against the ropes. They bit harder into his wrists.
If we could make him leave somehow… we could try to untie each other's ropes…
Karl contemplated the brass end of the cane. Then he slid it back down to the ground and leaned on it. "My revenge does have to be a bit more…focused. Besides, I need this." He frowned resentfully at the cane. "Don't get too comfy, though. It's still part of my toolbox. I'm thinking… I'll start with you. No distractions. But if you try anything… do something I don't like. I'll take it out on her. You will have to experience some pain, no matter what. But if you go beyond the reasonable amount of disobedience… she'll be punished." He grabbed Amber's chin, tilted it up. She glared at him defiantly.
Then, he slapped her hard across the cheek. She gasped, her cheek reddening.
"Leave her alone!"
"She'll have to experience her fair share of pain, too. But there are things that I'll hold back on…. Things that'll create irrevocable damage. Unless you do anything to risk my operation. Like trying to escape. Attacking me, of course. Trying to subvert my servants. Talking to them about 'freedom.'" He gave Jason a pointed look. "In fact, the word 'freedom' is off-limits. Along with your names. You'll be called 'slave' until I come up with a suitable name for you." He lifted his cellphone from his pocket and touched an icon. A moment later, a man stepped in, several inches taller than Karl. His head was shaved and massive muscles showed beneath his shirt.
Karl motioned to her. "Take her out, will you? I'm aiming for some quality time with this slave. But stay on standby. If he steps out of line… strap her to Molly. And turn the dial to the highest setting."
The man nodded and lumbered over to Amber. She struggled but he picked up her chair and slung her over his shoulder. Then he trudged out and shut the door.
Jason's heart plummeted.
To his surprise, Karl untied the ropes. For a moment, Jason didn't move, fearing the pain. Not sure what Karl's game was. Then he moved his arms slowly forward. They were partially numb, except for the fire shooting around his wrists. He rubbed the feeling back into his hands; pins and needles pricked them ruthlessly. He looked up at Karl, wondering if he should just lunge at him and take him down. He wasn't in the best of shape, but neither was Karl….
Jason stood, his hands clenching into fists. Took a rather shaky step toward him.
Karl held up his cane. "Ah-ah-ah. Remember what I just said? Any attacks on me—the girl gets… let's see. I think I'll be more creative the first time around, just to pound it into your head. I haven't let Del have some fun for a long time, since he's being punished… he does love young, vulnerable women and it's gotta be torture to be surrounded by them and not be able to act on his inclinations."
His stomach dropped. "Don't… don't touch her…."
"I will, eventually. But it's all up to you now. Del will, of course, be disappointed." He stepped over to the window, looked out briefly. Then turned to face him. "Okay. Down to business. Lie on the floor."
"No."
Karl whipped out his gun, surprisingly swiftly for someone whose hands were injured. They were bandaged, including his fingertips.
The gun aimed at Jason. "I won't hesitate to give you a bullet wound to match mine." He motioned with the gun. "Now lie down."
Jason's heart rebelled against obeying… but what could he do? He couldn't escape, he couldn't attack Karl… unless he knew he had a significant chance of prevailing and getting to Amber in time.
But how could he just—be vulnerable…?
Perhaps give him time to plan…..
Slowly, he lowered to his knees.
"Facedown," ordered Karl.
He lay on his stomach. The threads of the carpet rubbed unpleasantly against his chest.
Karl crouched beside him. Drew a knife from his belt.
Images from the last video of Elliot splashed across his mind. Facedown in a luxurious room… threatened with a gun and a knife….
I'll die before I let that happen.
The blade tapped his back, the cold of metal flashing across his skin.
Karl laughed softly. "This is how I like it. Giving you the illusion of freedom…. It's your choice, after all. Whether to choose death… whether to choose something horrible for your companion. You're free to submit to my teachings." He slid the knife over Jason's back, tracing mockingly gently along his scars.
Jason knew those scars intimately. He hardly ever saw them—but daily, he felt the whip flaying his flesh.
The echoes of those moments had dulled a little… but now they stabbed him with a vengeance.
The knife twisted into the ragged strip of damaged flesh across his shoulder blade. Flicked into it—then lifted away.
Pain sliced through him.
He couldn't move.
Numbness crawled over him. He was trapped…snapped back into a maze of pain. You could never truly escape. You just had to submit. It would always win, in the end.
The blade tip burrowed into the scar, riving it, shredding its protective layer of skin, burying into the mangled flesh and carving it deeper. Pain tore through his back, radiating from that one single point.
He bore it silently, didn't scream. This was what he was meant for—pinned to the ground, someone flaying him. It was all he was worth. Though maybe he should scream. It wasn't like he had any dignity left to save.
The knife crept to the scar across his cheekbone, twisting into the wound from the blow from earlier. Boring deeper. Pain thrust through him. A cry wrenched from his throat.
"There you go. Scream all you want. This house is soundproof." The knife carved further, past the end of the scar, up to his ear before flicking into his earlobe. He gasped.
"My purpose here, you see, is to show you how I not only own your past. I own your present…and your future." He grasped Jason's chin, looked down at him with a parody of affection.
Horror dug into his heart.
No. No one owns me.
I'm not…just worth this.
Someone loves me.
I love her.
She's out there, waiting for me.
And—
Hope burst through him.
Karl hadn't mentioned Connie. So he didn't know she was out there. She hadn't been captured.
Jason had to keep it that way. At all costs.
But how could he act—vulnerable on the floor, at the mercy of Karl?
Karl had weaknesses. He also had weapons. If Jason could get to them—
One of those weapons was right in front of his face.
And he wasn't bound. Just bound by threats, by the weakness pressing his body there.
I have to protect her.
The knife lowered to his right cheek and the blade tapped his cheekbone. Karl smiled wolfishly. "I think I'll give you a scar to match on this side. Nice and symmetrical."
His heart flipped over. At least the scars beneath his clothes he could pretend didn't exist sometimes. But the scar on his cheek—he was often painfully aware of it. Everyone could see the evidence of being bound helplessly…. It wasn't a badge of courage like if gotten in a war or a fight. Even though Connie insisted it wasn't shameful, that he had resisted, that it was his torturer's fault. He knew this. But he couldn't shake the feeling of inferiority when people's gaze inevitably strayed to it. It was an ugly thing, despite Connie's insistence it added to his beauty, and that she loved it because it was a part of him. Her love dulled a lot of the horror of it. But he couldn't completely deny it its power….
Blood dripped onto his cheek from the knife. He flinched away.
I have to distract him somehow… give me a slight advantage, a window of opportunity….
The knife pressed against his skin and pain bit into it.
No.
Not again.
"Please. Anywhere else." His stomach turned over at the pleading tone in his voice.
To his relief, the knife lifted away. "Anywhere?" said Karl, an amused look on his face.
Jason nodded.
Karl stepped to his side. "Why don't you flip over, then."
"What?"
"Flip over. I'll return to your back later. Now…. Let's try another area." He gave a swirling motion with his knife. "No sudden moves."
Slowly, Jason turned onto his back. This gave him a wider field of vision, but somehow it felt more vulnerable. And the carpet rubbed painfully against the wound on his shoulder. Blood trickled from his cheek to the floor.
I should have made a move then, he thought. Now….
A horrible weakness dragged at his limbs. He felt deeply shaken and his hands trembled. It's my PTSD, he thought. What good is being hyperalert if it doesn't help you get out of a similar situation?
I have to move. I have to gather the strength somehow.
God, please help me.
He closed his eyes. Connie's face lingered in the darkness like an afterimage. She's worth any cost to get back to. Doesn't matter how weak I feel. I have to do something.
He felt a soft pressure in his hand and opened his eyes. To his surprise, no hand was in his. Just Karl, regarding him with amused contemplation.
But strength infused into him. He knew Connie was with him. God was with them both. Bright flames of energy flickered along his veins.
The knife tapped his sternum. Cold bit into him, freezing his heart.
"Let's see. We could start here…" He pressed the flat of the knife onto one of the whip scars on his chest. "Or here…" He pricked the knife into the burn scar on his side. A flash of phantom pain seared him. "Or here." He tapped the bandage at Jason's side where Karl's bullet had grazed him. Slid beneath the bandage.
No. This can't be happening.
He's distracted, looking downward. Now is the time—
He tried to gather strength but couldn't move. His body was filled with sand, dragging him down.
Get his knife.
A soft 'clunk' beyond the door. Karl looked up, eyes narrowed. Then he shrugged. "Probably one of the girls."
Now's your chance.
Move!
He summoned the fire that had rushed through him earlier, grasping for the edges of it. Some strength trickled through his veins… it would have to be enough.
He reeled off of the floor, grabbed for the knife. Seized Karl's hand and the handle. Karl pulled; the blade slipped. Jason gripped tighter with both hands but Karl pulled harder; pain struck through Jason's palms. His hands shook with the force of it—his grip had suffered after the nail wounds. Karl yanked hard and the knife ripped downward, slicing the delicate area between thumb and forefinger. Blood flew. Then, throbbing, stabbing pain. But Jason disregarded it. He flew toward Karl just as he reached for his gun. They tumbled to the floor, Jason on top of him.
Karl cried out; Jason punched him hard across the face. Again, and again. He ground his knee into Karl's stomach.
Karl lifted the knife. Jason grabbed his hand again, pressing downward against the considerable force of Karl's strength. Rage and hatred spilled through Karl's eyes. He knew he couldn't hesitate. As the knife crept closer to his face, pressing against the wound in his hand, he slammed his knee downward against Karl's injured knee.
A scream ripped through the air.
The knife clattered to the floor.
Jason snatched it up, held it to Karl's throat as he tugged the pistol from Karl's belt. Pressed it to his jaw. "Don't move."
Pain and rage burned in Karl's eyes as Jason stood, breathing hard, keeping the pistol aimed at the trafficker. His hands shook slightly but he willed them to still, knowing he couldn't show any weakness or Karl would exploit it.
Pain jabbed through his thumb, throbbed down his arm as blood dripped from it.
Probably need stitches… he thought.
Another thought punched him hard. If Karl hadn't been injured, I probably wouldn't have succeeded.
"Facedown," Jason ordered.
"Returning the favor?" Karl sneered through ragged breaths.
"Just do it."
Slowly, Karl flipped onto his stomach. He gasped; blood showed through his pants over his knee. Jason felt a pang of sympathy, or perhaps empathy, but he couldn't afford to give in to it.
He took the ropes he'd been tied with and ground his knee into Karl's back, pinning him, making sure he couldn't move, and bound the ropes tightly.
"All right, get up."
"You won't get away with this. This house is full of people who serve me devotedly."
"Well, I've got this," said Jason, flipping the gun in his hand. He aimed it at Karl. "Get up, please."
Slowly, Karl pushed himself onto his knee, favoring his injured leg. He tried to stand but his knee faltered. "I—don't think I can."
This had better not be a ruse, he thought, and lifted Karl by the arm, planting him on his feet. Karl gasped and stood on one leg, his left leg held gingerly to the side. He eyed Jason, who kept the gun firmly pointed at his chest. "I have to give you credit," he said. "You and that Markov. You don't hold back when it comes to your enemy's weaknesses. That knee will probably never be the same after your tender ministrations."
"Now those kids will be safe from your evil."
He shrugged. "One man's evil is another man's business."
Disgust poured through him. He wasn't going to dignify this man with any more attention than he had to. "Where's Amber."
"Oh, somewhere around."
Jason jerked the gun closer. "Where is she."
"Del took her into the other room. Awaiting my orders. I wouldn't be surprised if she was a little worse for wear…. I bet he won't be able to resist taking a taste of that morsel."
Jason longed to slam the gun into Karl's face but brutality for its own sake would be wrong—and counterproductive. "Let's go." He motioned for Karl to move and he hobbled toward the door.
Which swung open.
And there stood Amber. Ali beside her.
A smile flashed across Amber's face. "Wow—it looks like you didn't need help."
"I was just about to go look for you."
"Impressive," said Ali.
"Where were you?" said Jason.
"I found some interesting things in the room I searched. I went to get you, but the basement door was locked. So I figured something was up. I tried calling you but cell phones aren't working. Some kind of dampening field. I had to sneak out past the guard. Then I called Amber's backup, had to convince them I was legit. I went to see if Connie was okay—"
"How is she?" said Jason, his heart thudding hard.
"She was kind of freaked out that I'd lost contact with you. I don't blame her. She was panicking a bit so I advised her to lie low—literally. The agents told me to wait outside until they got there, but I had a gut feeling you'd need help before that. Good thing, too, because I went back to that interesting room I told you about. Amber was strapped down, about to get a syringe full of some kind of drug."
"He got there just in time," said Amber. "Knocked out Del before he could do anything." Her eyes widened as her gaze drifted to his hand. "Jason, are you all right?"
"This is nothing," he said, clutching his left hand, the slick warm liquid that met his touch belying his words. Blood was streaming onto the floor from his thumb. He pressed his fingers to the wound.
"We'd better get that fixed." She took a wide berth past Karl and snatched up remnants of Jason's shirt from the floor in front of the chair. There were streaks of blood from his back on the floor and a slight indent where he'd been lying.
"Jason—" She stepped back toward him, out of his view. "Your back—"
"I'm just glad he wasn't focusing on you. You're okay?"
"Yeah," she said, her eyes shadowed. "That Del—wasn't too gentle but. He didn't get the chance to get very far. This is as bad as it got." She tapped her head near the gash, the dried blood at her hairline.
"You could have a concussion. We'd better get you treated."
Amber pressed the cloth to the wound on his thumb and bound it around his hand. Blood seeped through the lavender fabric. She pressed another to his shoulder blade and bound it around his shoulder, and another to his face although there was nothing to attach it to, so after soaking up the blood she let the shred fall to the floor.
"Where's Connie?" said Jason.
"With one of the agents," said Ali. "Perfectly safe."
Despite Ali's assurances, Jason couldn't be sure until he saw her.
A few agents appeared in the doorway. "We can take it from here," said one of them. Several agents guided Karl out of the door.
One of them remained. "We'd better get you fixed up," he said.
"I'm fine," said Jason.
"You both need some good field medicine," he said, glancing at Amber. "Then preferably the hospital. You both experienced blows to the head. Those can be dangerous."
"I'm—" Amber sighed, looking exhausted. "I suppose you're right. I can't do any good if I'm unconscious. But…I don't like leaving things like this…"
"You spearheaded the operation. Now we're taking care of the rest. The kids are in good hands."
"Is Lily okay?" said Jason.
"Who?"
"A little blond girl. She was knocked out with me."
"In the glass case?"
Jason nodded.
"We got her out."
Jason breathed a sigh of relief. "And everyone else?"
"We're doing our best. Getting some trauma responders in here soon."
Jason nodded, though he wished he could help the kids. But he wasn't in the best of shape…and others were more than capable.
He stepped slowly down the winding staircase. Now that it was over, fatigue seized him and he felt like collapsing into a bed and not getting up for a long time.
Outside, Connie was sitting on the hood of the car, an agent beside her, scrolling through a phone. Worry creased her brow but disappeared when she saw him. She jumped off just as he reached her and flung her arms around him. He held her close, reveling in the scent of her hair, in the pressure of her fingertips on his back. Then she pulled away slightly, a strand of hair streaked across her face. She swept it away but the wind threatened to slide it back. She lifted her hand to his face, touched near the wound. "Jason…." Sorrow wracked her voice. "What happened…"
"Nothing special." He didn't want to dwell on it. It really was nothing compared to the torture he'd experienced before…. Though he didn't want to know how far Karl would have gone.
"I don't want you to…hold back from me."
"Right now I just want to be with you. Forget all of that. It's just part of the past." He kissed her forehead.
"My beautiful Jason." She laid her head on his chest. He stroked her hair, lingering in its silken strands, grateful beyond words that she was safe. That she hadn't gotten mixed up in the worst of it.
This was too close. He couldn't live with anything happening to her. Himself… he could deal with.
He didn't want her within hundreds of miles of any kind of trafficker. Perhaps he should ask her to leave…. He didn't want to think about so much distance separating them. But… he had to at least see this through… find Luna and Elliot… or at least make some significant headway…
Well, she'd be safe in the palace, anyway. As much as he loved having her with him… he didn't want her in danger. He'd have to be okay with seeing her when he got back. No matter how helpful she was… there was no guarantee.
The agent grabbed a first aid kit out of their van and gave a light exam to Amber. It turned out she had a mild concussion, so she recommended Amber go to the hospital, and she reluctantly agreed.
Then the agent, Sasha, a short, trim woman in her early forties with dark reddish-brown hair, turned her attention to Jason. He sat on the back bumper of the van as she cleaned and disinfected the wound on his cheek. Sorrow broke through her professional veneer. "That's pretty diabolical. To cut into your scars…"
"Well, at least that means I don't get any new ones."
She looked at him for a moment and then smiled softly. "That's a good way of looking at it."
"He'll be okay?" said Connie.
"Yes, as long as he keeps these wounds clean and uninfected."
"It's a good thing he didn't get to my bullet wounds," said Jason. "He was just about to when—I grabbed his knife."
"Is that how this happened?" Sasha lifted his wrist, looking at the blood-soaked makeshift bandage on his hand.
He nodded, feeling queasy.
She carefully unwrapped the cloth and drew in a breath. "This is deep. You'll need stitches." She lifted the bottle of water. "This'll hurt—I'm sorry."
"That's okay."
She poured water onto it. White hot pain flashed through him; he gripped the bumper with his other hand, willing himself to bear it.
A blur at the edge of his vision. Connie appeared beside him, rested her hand on his other arm. The dizziness quelled.
"Now for the hard part," said Sasha, her hazel eyes sympathetic. She lifted the disinfectant bottle and poured it onto the cut.
Fire screamed into it
He leaned over, his head in his other hand, his stomach churning.
Connie rubbed his arm and the pain dulled from a roaring inferno to something more manageable.
"Let's hope the one on your back isn't as bad," said the agent. "Would you mind turning a little so I can get to it?"
He nodded and turned toward Connie, giving the agent access. For some reason, this seemed worse than the other wounds. Maybe because the agent was behind him. Something in him—against all reason—believed she would hurt him. Cut deeper into the wound.
But no. She wasn't an enemy. It might hurt… but it was a hurt meant to heal.
Still, he had to force himself not to whip around, bring his fists up in a defensive position.
Focus on Connie.
She touched the top of his wounded hand gently, and his skin tingled, chasing away some of the fire. He lifted his right hand to her face. "I felt your love in there," he said. "It helped get me out."
"Really?"
He nodded. "The…" He hesitated. Somehow, it was private, meant for him and for her, not anyone else.
Sasha unwound the cloth from his shoulder. "Oof. This isn't good. But it's not that deep." A pause. Then in a tone of ragged sympathy, "You sure have gone through the ringer, haven't you."
"All part of…being an agent."
"Yes…part of the risks we run. But here's to hoping you never have to bear any more scars. You've had enough for a lifetime."
He didn't disagree, but he felt small, horrible, to be seen like this. For his scars to be exposed, even to a professional who was helping him.
Water poured onto the wound, stinging it. He felt like running away. But he had to endure this.
To distract himself, he told Connie what had happened. "I… thought of your face. Of your love. I closed my eyes and—I could feel your hand in mine. It was like you were there… and it gave me strength." He didn't want to go into the details of what he'd needed strength for.
She caressed his fingers. "I was praying for you the whole time. That, and worrying about you." She bit her lip. "I almost went in to get you. It…took so long and I didn't hear anything… I was going crazy…"
"I'm glad you didn't go in. It was…a house of horrors."
The disinfectant poured onto his wound and for a moment, he forgot everything but the searing pain.
Connie laid her hand on his good shoulder, her other hand on his thigh. A thrill raced through him. He longed to be with her, alone—to be back in their room, or in the paradise glade…. Forget all of this and immerse in her love. Her fingers traced his thigh in gentle swirls; she gazed into his eyes and he reveled in their immeasurable green.
The bandage on his shoulder, Sasha packed the first aid things back in the bag.
"Thank you," he said.
"No problem." She straightened. "You'll need to get that looked at at a hospital. Especially get some stitches for your thumb. Perhaps see if you have a concussion. Looks like you'll have a nasty bruise there." She gestured to his jaw. He flinched.
I've prevailed. I don't need to be afraid anymore. Not that I ever needed to be afraid of harmless gestures…
"It'll take some time to get over this, too," said Sasha. "This was a traumatic event—and it looks as if you've had those before. That can make things worse."
"This wasn't nearly as bad as—as before."
"No… but trauma doesn't necessarily make sense. We don't get desensitized to it the more it happens. The opposite, in fact. I've been around the block… not been tortured, per se, but gone through some things. It can eat away at you, attack you at the most inconvenient moments. Even if you think you're recovered. It'll come out of nowhere. Take it easy on yourself. Recovery can take years."
"I just—want to move on."
She nodded. "That's understandable. Even as you recover, it doesn't have to define you. But…make sure you have support… I see you do." She smiled, glancing at Connie. "Don't rule out a therapist, either. It's not a shameful thing to seek help—it can help you heal faster and more thoroughly. So you can be more effective in your job. And—have a more fulfilling life, where it's not…taking over."
"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."
She smiled, nodded sadly.
He bristled a little at her gentle admonition—but he knew it was true. He'd even suggested it himself the other day. It was just… he was tired. Tired of this cutting into him—just as he'd been recovering, it happened again.
But this could hardly be called torture. Just a few scratches. So it didn't even deserve to bother him. He had to get past it—not let it affect him at all—and keep going. Catch the bad guys.
It gave him a thrill he'd caught Karl. Even if he had been injured—it'd been a significant operation. Finding him and rescuing the kids.
The mission wasn't done, though. Not until Luna and Elliot were rescued. After getting stitched up, getting some supper… getting some rest tonight, he'd be back out there. Hopefully with some intel wrested from Karl… Jason had a hunch he was with Yavesh, or at least had some sort of affiliation with them. Maybe there would be evidence in the vast house.
Something struck him. He dug into his pocket, drew out the triangle wrap. It was totally flattened. "I don't suppose you want this," he said.
"What is it?"
"Something Karl gave us for lunch."
She took it, inspected it. "Well… I'm so hungry I might…." She nibbled its edge and then devoured it. "Mm—it's good."
"Really?"
She nodded.
"Well—those hors d'oeuvres were the only good thing about that house… Too bad I couldn't get you more. But I was afraid they might be drugged."
"You ate them."
"Well… they looked so good. And I was hungry."
She laughed. "We'd better get home and get some supper."
"If you want to stop on the way… it might be too late to join Roderick and Darya anyway."
"We need to go to the hospital first."
"Then it'll definitely be too late. I'm tempted to skip it—but I don't want a worse scar." He looked at his bandaged thumb.
"That looked—really deep."
"It's a badge of honor, though. I wasn't…being carved into like some piece of meat. I was taking action. It…took me long enough….." He mentally punished himself for delaying so long. For not being able to yank himself off the floor. For almost having to be rescued—again. "Any sort of injury is worth it if it gets me out. I'd rather be crippled and escape than…just have superficial injuries and be enslaved…" A shudder ran through him at the thought. Of the things that Karl had threatened.
I'm not letting it victimize me again. I'm fighting. Never letting them crush me.
Not dwelling on it, either.
I'll dwell on something beautiful instead.
He lifted her hand and kissed it. She swirled her hand gently in his hair, then kissed his forehead.
"Hey," said a voice.
He turned to see Ali approaching them, cell phone in his hand. "Looks like you're getting back to normal." He smirked. "It's a beautiful sight."
Jason glared at him. He drew Connie closer and she leaned her head on his shoulder, her hand caressing his back, her other hand in his.
"I found something," said Ali.
"What is it."
Ali lifted a piece of paper from his pocket and brandished it in the air. "Something you'll want to see."
Jason was in no mood for games and would have snatched it from him if he hadn't felt too weary to stand at the moment. He held out his hand and Ali dropped it into his palm. Jason slid the paper into his fingers and flipped it over.
It was a mere scrap, with torn edges. On it were scrawled some notes in blue pen. Jason drew it closer and squinted. It took a few moments to decipher it.
9:00 The Solarium Aug 12 take #4, #6, & #8
Jason was no more enlightened than before. "What is this?"
Ali inched closer. "Don't you see? Each door in the basement was numbered. These are the children he's taking."
Realization began to dawn inside him, though he didn't like where this was going. "You mean-"
Ali nodded. "This is the next auction."
"He just-left this lying around?"
"It's not like he thought he'd be invaded. This place'll be a treasure trove- it's likely he kept his most secret documents on paper, to avoid being hacked. We'll find endless info here. As it is- good thing I found this. It might've been overlooked."
"Don't be too sure about that," said Sasha, glancing at him.
"Not found in time, anyway."
Jason crumpled the note in his hand. "This is in less than three hours. Do you know where the Solarium is?"
"You're in luck there, too. Most of these people probably never heard of it."
"Don't be too sure about that either," said Sasha, leaning over her car.
"It's in Valhad. Ironically, it's in a basement. A private club. Much more exclusive than Castle Hotel."
"Still- I would've thought they'd be more careful."
"I have no doubt they are. But something's gotta pay the bills."
Indignace rose up in him. "They could choose literally anything else."
Ali shrugged. "It's no use understanding them. It is a lucrative business... though I don't understand the appeal of slavery myself."
How much of this is an act, Jason wondered. Is it really just business to him? And- did he know about this auction beforehand-is that why he so conveniently found it?
There was plenty of time to trap me before... Is he just toying with me, like a cat before its kill?
Can I risk ignoring this tip- risk letting more kids get sold-
It was pretty foolproof last time. Karl was the only snag, really. The Valhad police raid was swift and efficient.
If it were just Ali I were relying on... But with the entire police force on my side... It probably won't be much more dangerous than last time. Of course, there probably are harsher security measures... and they've seen me. Would I be able to stay anonymous, since these are different participants? Who are the unseen coordinators pulling the strings? How much do they see and control?
Twelve people were rescued last time. This time, even more vulnerable people- children.
I can't leave them to a horrific fate.
One by one, we're crushing these traffickers... getting closer to the truth... the center of this web of evil...
An ambulance arrived and agents brought the kids out to get first aid. Soon after, a large bus pulled up. The trauma responders took the kids who had been treated and bundled them onto the bus, speaking soothingly to them. Police also arrived with Rakima emblazoned on the sides of their sleek dark vehicles.
A few of the kids were carried out, including Kaya, the girl that had been bound to the electrical device. She was awake, but looking disoriented. Her red hair cascaded toward the ground, slightly damp, her body cocooned by the blanket as she disappeared into the ambulance.
Lily, her hand in an agents', sauntered toward him. Her large dark eyes gazed up at him. "Thank you for saving me," she said.
Jason crouched down to her level. "How are you feeling?"
"A little weird. That mist made me sleep for a while. When I woke up, these guys were here! I was scared at first but they helped me."
"I'm glad you're okay, Lily."
"What happened?" Her eyes widened and her fingers brushed near the bandage on his cheek.
"Karl. Zamian. He-"
Sorrow filled her eyes. "He hurt you."
She flung her arms around him, hugging him close, and even the pressure of her little hand against his shoulder didn't hurt.
"Don't worry," she whispered in his ear. "Sometimes, Captain America gets beat up too."
A smile burst across his face at this.
She backed up a little, her hand still resting on his shoulder. Her head tilted. "You're from America, aren't you?"
He nodded.
"Then you're just like him!" She pursed her lips, looking a little concerned. "But we don't have a Captain Muldavia. Why not?"
"I don't know. Maybe you will soon. You know those are just movies."
She frowned as if considering this for the first time. "Yeah, I suppose."
"Besides, you have people here protecting you. Heroes like these agents and policemen. They're the ones who really rescued you."
She planted a hand on her hip. "But you started it."
"I suppose so."
"You ran into that bad man. Just to save us. You're the greatest hero ever! Better than anyone on the movies."
"I don't know about that."
Connie placed her hand on his shoulder. "He is pretty heroic though."
"Will you stay here and protect us?"
"Well..."
"You could be our Captain Muldavia!"
"You already have one of those, you know. The king."
"Oh, yeah. He looks like you. But he stays in the palace."
"That's just what kings do. They direct everyone because that's their job. But that doesn't make him any less heroic- he has sacrificed for all of you." In a way, being a king was a sacrifice, a burden he was carrying for the people... it wasn't as if he'd ever sought to be a monarch.
"I wish I could see him."
"Maybe you can. I know him."
"Really?"
"But first- I have to go help some other kids."
"Can I come with?"
"Well- that's too dangerous. You'd better go back to your family. Do you have a mom and dad?"
"Just a dad. He works a lot. But he loves me. I have Nanny Julie too."
"You'd better go with the agents now. They'll help you get home."
"Okay. I wish I can see you again!"
"Me too, Lily. I'm so happy you're safe."
"Go get those other bad guys! Don't let them get you!"
"That's the plan." Grim determination stirred in him as he stood.
Lily turned to the agent. "Hey, what about the animals?"
"They'll be taken care of," she said.
"Will they be safe? Can I have one?"
"You'd have to ask your parents."
"Okay, I'll take the fox, the alligator, the bunny..." The agent led her to the bus.
"Animals?" asked Connie.
"Karl also had some animals imprisoned in there. It's a twisted place all around. Finally getting aired out..." A thought struck him. "We couldn't keep the alligator, could we?"
"You're kidding."
"It'd be a nice addition to our home. We could keep him in the back yard... He could chase away any intruders..."
She pursed her lips. "I'd rather have a dog..."
"Want to get a puppy when we get back?"
"Anything but an alligator." She laughed and he joined in. Though the longing lingered to have some strange exotic pet... not keep it imprisoned but give it a home...
Ali strode up to him. "We'd better get going if we want to be prepared by the time the auction starts."
"You probably should go to the hospital first," said Connie, looking at Jason.
"I don't need much besides antibiotics and painkillers. And you have those in your purse."
"You need stitches, though, don't you? And don't you have a concussion?"
"If it is, it's not affecting me any. The paramedics can probably stitch my hand up quick."
"You need rest... Maybe someone else can go."
"If I can help- and I'm really far from incapacitated- then I'll do anything I can. We've done this before- it shouldn't be hard. Tomorrow I can rest. This is just happening now, so... I can't pass this up."
She nodded, looking concerned as her gaze flickered over his injuries.
He headed over to the second ambulance, since the first one had sped off, its siren blaring. He waited for a young patient to be treated, a boy about eight, gaunt with haunted eyes.
After the boy was taken to the bus, Jason stepped up to one of the paramedics, a young man with curly hair and dark brown eyes. "I just need a quick patch-up." He lifted his hand.
"Looks like it's already been patched up." The paramedic continued typing on an iPad.
"I need some stitches. It's okay if you won't do it-"
"Probably best done at a hospital."
"I can't afford to wait- there are other kids to be rescued."
"In that case... I suppose I can."
Jason sat in the back of the ambulance and the young man peeled away the bandage, raised his eyebrow at the damage, then got to work. He injected a quick numbing agent and Jason held his hand still while the paramedic sewed through his skin. Jason watched, fascinated, enjoying the fact it didn't hurt. Connie waited by his side but turned away once the needle pricked his skin. The numbness of his hand made his thumb stiff and it was hard to hold it stretched out enough for the skin not to fold in too much.
The paramedic snipped the ends off and then straightened with a satisfied smile. "All right, you're done."
Jason stood. "Thank you." He moved his thumb experimentally. "Good as new."
"Take it easy. Rest your left hand- and your whole self." He turned to treat his next patient.
"See?" said Connie. "He thinks you should rest too. Maybe I should go in instead..."
"I have to do this."
"Maybe you can stay more in the background?"
"Last auction wasn't too bad, was it?"
"Well... not really... but this time, it's different. You took them down last time. They know you."
"I'll figure it out." He strode over to their car, weaving between emergency vehicles. "There's something else I'll need before I can do anything. A shirt."
"Maybe we better go shopping."
"Are you sure you want to come with?"
"I don't want to leave you. Unless- it makes it harder for you to work."
He caressed a stray curl. "I always want you with me. But... This was too close for comfort. He... could've gotten to you. I don't want you near any of this. I love investigating with you... but it's not worth you getting hurt."
"It's not worth you getting hurt either."
"I'm an agent. Or-was. I'm a bit more...equipped to deal with contingencies." The irony of this statement hit him. He had barely been up to this challenge...
Because he'd barged into what could easily be a trap. Again. And now he was about to do the same thing... but he wasn't going to be impulsive this time. He was going to be careful...be mindful of his limits... use support personnel. What he always should have done. It had only taken three- or four... torture sessions to pound that into his mind... maybe it was worth that.
Worth it to rescue the kids, anyway.
I have limits. More than before.
But I also still have some skills, experience leftover-
If there's any way I can make a difference, I have to help.
"I want to stay," she said. "As close to you as possible. As long as I don't get in the way."
He kissed her forehead. "You could never be in the way. There probably is something you can do-the kids'll need help after they're rescued. It's probably best if you don't go in with me this time."
"Okay."
"Hey," said Ali, stepping out of his idling car, "I've got just what you need." He tossed Jason a shirt. Jason caught it and rubbed the rich grayish lavender fabric.
"You just happened to have a shirt."
"You never know when you might need a spare." His eyes danced.
"Thank you."
"It's real silk. You're welcome." He winked and slid into the driver's seat, revved the engine, then sped off.
"I hope he'll tell me where the place is on the way," said Jason, and opened the passenger side door of their car.
Amber jaunted up to them. "Hey-I'll come with."
"You have a concussion," said Jason.
"That's why I'll let you drive." She looked at Connie.
"But- don't you have to go to the hospital?" Connie said.
"I'm fine. It's not a bad one."
"I don't know about that," said Jason. "Getting hit on the head isn't something to trifle with. You could feel fine, then-collapse on the way."
"I have a pretty good intuition about myself. I think I'm good enough to participate."
"If you're not at the top of your game, you're a liability."
Amber sidled closer, her eyes narrowing. "You should talk."
He took a step toward her. "It's galvanized me. I know I can win. I know I can get through it."
"There could be a delayed reaction... it could hit you later on... you could be in denial, in shock, and later it'll catch up with you."
"Thanks for your optimism. I don't need any psychoanalysis, thank you. I need to get going."
"Me too. All things considered, I'm in better shape than you."
"We'll see about that."
"I'm sorry, Jason. Maybe I'm not myself. But I have a sense this might...give us more clues... not just to find the kids, but..." She looked down, her brow creasing. "To find Elliot," she said in a soft voice.
"Well... if you want to come..."
"It's just- I keep seeing him. His eyes. Pleading with me. I-I can't leave him there."
His heart softened, went out to her. "I know."
"He's...haunting me. Every minute, in the back of my mind... I have to- I have to rescue him. No matter what it takes. No matter..." She gasped, her hand leaping to her head. "What happens to me."
"Amber-"
She reached for the car hood to steady herself. "I-never really got hurt before. Not on a mission. It's horrible-but it's nothing. Nothing compared to what happened to him. Or to you. I c-can't let this stop me-" She leaned against her palm, then tilted slightly before crouching down, her forehead against the surface of the car.
Connie looked at Jason, both hesitating, not sure what to do.
Amber crawled to the curb, leaned over, cradling her head. "I suppose... I better stay. I...won't-" she hissed through her teeth- "do any good like this."
"You'll get better soon," said Jason. "Then you'll be able to help."
She nodded, then gulped, crumpling up further. "M'Kay," she said in a muffled voice.
A paramedic appeared beside her, and, knowing she was getting help, Jason climbed into the car.
Connie climbed in beside him and took a deep breath. "You ready?"
He nodded. "Thanks for being my driver. I need a chance to compose myself. It'll give me two hours to rest... get a plan cobbled together."
"Maybe you should take a nap."
"I need to call the agents first." He called the head agent and requested backup, which they granted. He also asked about Ali's information, and they confirmed the tip was genuine, at least, not manufactured on the scene by Ali, although he had violated protocol by removing it from the house. But the agents weren't as angry as they could have been, because Ali provided a possible breakthrough.
Jason coordinated a rough approach with Ali and the agents. Ali got them last minute entry to the auction venue. "Aren't you glad to have my connections and influence?" he gloated.
Well, I'd be glad if I knew for sure you weren't up to no good.
The entries were just for Jason and Ali, because there were only two spaces left. But the agents would be waiting closeby, and they arranged to fit them with listening devices, so they'd know what was going on at all times.
That was the good thing about this last operation-Jason hadn't been alone. He'd had Amber and her invisible backup. Although Jason had been captured, it wouldn't have lasted long in any case, because the agents knew where they were and could get to them eventually. Unlike when Jason had gone in alone. Which, admittedly, hadn't really been that many times since he'd retired. The first time Gray captured him, he'd been knocked out and kidnapped. The second time, he'd gone in with Sierra. And even in Paraguay, Tasha had eventually come through.
It was just that this time, he had a whole agency behind him. It was nice to have the maneuverability of freelancing, but he had to admit, he didn't have the ability anymore to go it alone. Not for the missions with high risk, anyway.
it would have made him nervous to go in with Ali otherwise, considering who he was. But Ali couldn't exactly try much with the agents listening in.
This gave Connie peace of mind, too, although she still didn't like the fact he was going to the auction in person, and that she wasn't going with this time.
"One of the agents could go in instead," she suggested.
"It's more likely the traffickers know the Muldavian agents," he said.
"They might know you now."
"It's a totally different cell. The organizers are probably the same, but the people who carry it out are different. It's kind of a seperate operation."
"Well, at least you kind of know what to expect from last time."
"Some of it will probably be similar... but it's a different venue. And... they're selling kids. As horrible as the other auction was... this'll be really hard to get through, and not betray my feelings."
She pursed her lips. "Then it's probably good I'm not going in. I...don't know if I could act that much."
"The agents should have a role for you. At the very least, you can learn something from the operation."
"I'll be going crazy. But it's better than knowing nothing." She glanced at him, her eyes flickering over his form. "How are you feeling?"
"Those are great painkillers. They don't even knock you out."
"I don't mean that. What happened..." Her voice caught. "It was like...what happened before..."
"I think- I'm actually fine. Because it was a lower dose. Maybe I should keep getting captured... tortured just a little..." A shudder ran through him.
"Jason-"
"I'm kidding. Getting beaten up though- maybe that's not such a bad idea. Knowing I can get hurt- and it won't be something devastating each time. And prevailing-knowing I can win." He pounded his fist against the car door. Thrills raced through him, along with a shiver of fear-just a remnant, he told himself. Fear overriding everything else- I'm done with that. A healthy fear on the other hand... making me careful, but not overly so... keeping me from overstepping my limits and making foolish choices... Too bad I didn't learn that years ago.
"If you need to... talk about it or anything, I'm here. That's probably all the support I can give."
"Just you being here helps. As long as you're out of the danger zone. I don't think talking about it will help. Not now, anyway. I don't want to dwell on it. Ever. I don't want to give them any more pieces of me." Anger and determination surged through him.
She reached for his hand and pressed it gently. "You'll get some rest tomorrow, won't you?"
"I probably should. The agents can handle whatever happens after this. Hopefully we'll be able to act on the clues we find here and at Karl's house. One step closer."
Her thumb rubbed his, so gently it didn't hurt, though it wasn't exactly numb anymore. "You should probably sleep in," she said. "You got up really early today."
"I'll sleep in if I can, but I'm not sleeping the day away."
"You need to get better."
"Just the same old scars." He caressed her arm.
"In that case... I'll do whatever I can to help you feel better."
"The kind of rest you can give me-it's better than sleep for rejuvenation."
Her smile echoed his. He descended into pleasant dreams.
When he woke, Valhad appeared, gleaming on the side of the mountain, glittering enticingly in the slanting sunrays.
They met Ali at a park on the outskirts of town. The castle, gilded in sunset glow, was perched on the edge of the cliff just at the edge of their view.
Ali brought them supper and they ate it at the picnic table while the agents briefed them on their mission. Jason changed into a shimmering green shirt and tan pants in one of the two dark vans, and then the agents fitted he and Ali with tiny bugs- genuine diamond cufflinks. Ali gave Jason tips on how to act and about the layout, since he'd been at the Solarium before, for a different purpose.
"It'll probably be somewhat similar to the other auction," said Ali, "but watch out for curveballs. And be extra on your guard-without looking like it. These people will be especially suspicious after the last raid. But at the same time, they're pretty secure since they think they have a foolproof method of secrecy." He laughed. "Just...make sure you keep your act up. Like last time. I'm not exactly sure how to act at one of these either. I'll be going in blind for some of their security measures." He slapped Jason on the back. Pain sliced into his shoulder. "What fun we'll have!"
Connie kissed Jason goodbye; he didn't want it to end, but time was running out. Only a few minutes until 9:00. He tore away from her, letting her love surge through him, give him strength, and climbed into Ali's convertible. It sped through the shadowed, tree-lined streets and screeched to a stop in front of a beautiful white brick building with a sign that said Zalahray in glowing golden and magenta letters.
"What's-" Jason began.
"It means Galaxy," said Ali. "There are several rooms inside. Come."
Anticipation racing through him, along with a generous dose of a dread he tried to suppress, he climbed out of the car and followed Ali inside, the ground pulsing beneath his feet.