“Just refining coordinates. Most of that unit’s below street level.” Feeney fiddled, fooled, then rolled his shoulders.
“Got you four. Two in the northeast corner.”
“That would be the bedroom,” Roarke said, studying his PPC.
“Two more, front of the unit.”
“Living area.”
Eve hunched over Feeney’s shoulder.
“Probable suspects are still in bed. Probable victims, also horizontal, about eighteen inches between them.”
And alive, she thought. Still generating heat.
She stepped out again, to use her comm, coordinate her team, and to have the van transferred.
Roarke jumped out. “I have your eyes and ears, Lieutenant.”
She should’ve figured he’d wheedle his way out of the van and into the action.
“Set me up.” He handed her earbuds first, and another set for Peabody. “We’re on the move,” she said. “Feeney, if anything moves in there, I hear about it.”
“Hey, She-Body?”
McNab leaned out the back of the van, reached out so they did the little finger tap Eve had seen them do dozens of times.
“Back in a few,” Peabody told him.
“On approach,” Eve said as they started down the block. “Stay alert. No detectible movement inside.”
Even so, they crouched, took the last few yards at a bent jog. Weapon drawn, she went down the short steps first, sidled over to the side of the door. Peabody took the opposite side while Roarke hunkered down with the portable unit.
“Give us a few seconds here.”
Inside, Reed turned and twisted his arm from the shoulder. His broken hand throbbed so brutally with the movement he could hear the sound of it inside his head. His breath wheezed through lips so dry they bled.
&
nbsp; He felt as if he’d been at it for days. He’d passed out from the pain a few times, but he could see, through the privacy screen, it was still daylight. Still morning, he thought.
“Jayla.” He barely recognized his own voice. “Jayla, wake up. You have to stay awake. Come on, talk to me. It’s looser, a little looser. If I can get my arm free…”
Her eyes fluttered open. “I just wanna sleep now. I wanna go to sleep.”
“You can’t. Look at me. Remember, remember, that’s what you said to me before. They’re still asleep. I’m going to get my arm out. Maybe this time I can get us out. I know I hurt you. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not that. You didn’t. Not you. They’re going to kill me today, just like she said. She said, ‘We’re going to kill you tomorrow,’ and I don’t want them to. I just want to sleep, and not wake up. There are angels when you sleep.”
“No. Jayla.” He twisted harder, and the pain came in white-hot bolts. They’d cut her when they’d forced him to rape her – the second time the night before, they’d cut her to add to it all. He could see her blood on the stained plastic.
She hadn’t been able to fight and cry the second time. She’d only lain there. And she hadn’t heard what the bitch had said, not all of it. She hadn’t said they were going to kill her tomorrow. She’d said they were going to make him kill her.
And that was a terror beyond the pain.
The terror rose like bile in his throat when he heard a giggle.
They were awake, and it would all start again.