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Panic (Rook and Ronin 3)

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Fuck, I left the crowbar. The footsteps are louder now, but not down yet. I slide the grate, grab the crowbar, slip back inside the hole, and slide the grate again.

“We’re tired of playing, Jon,” a voice says. “We know it’s here and the only way you’re getting out of here alive is if you give it to us. So let’s make this easy.”

I scoot away from the light filtering through the grate and push my back against the dirt wall as the men continue to talk near the stairs. I fish out my new iPhone and start the video camera and set it on a pipe on the other side of the hole, pointing up at the grate.

“Where is it?” another man says.

I’m so busted if he tells them because I’m sitting right next to the very thing they’re looking for.

“I told you,” Jon says. “I gave it to friends to hold for me. You kill me, they release it to the public. We walk out of here together or we don’t. But if I go down, so do you.”

A loud crack and a thud as someone falls to the ground almost makes me gasp. “You want to threaten me?”

There’s more shuffling and then the men are headed my way. I hold my breath.

“It’s in this basement, we know it is. One of your buddies gave you up.”

“That right?” Jon says, then spits on the floor, swallows hard, like he’s swallowing blood, and then coughs. “Then why don’t you tell me where it is, since you seem to know so much.”

They hit him again and this time he falls to the floor and his cheek lands right on the grate above me.

I suck in a long breath.

His eyes shift downward.

At first I think he can’t see me. And then his expression morphs though several different phases. Shock. Grimace. Anger.

And then nothing.

We open our mouths at the same time, but only he speaks. “I’ll never tell,” he says, looking me straight in the eye.

What? Is he talking to me?

One of the guys kicks him in the ribs and he spits out more blood. This time it clings to the rusty grate and drips down.

Please, God, I pray. Please don’t let me be caught here with these men.

“I won’t tell,” he says in a low voice. “I won’t tell.”

“You’ll tell, ass**le. Because we’re gonna beat the living shit out of you if you don’t,” one of the other guys says.

“They ransacked the baby’s room, but I cleaned it up as best I could,” he chokes out. And then he whispers so softly I almost miss it. “I swear it was an accident. I swear to God, it was an accident.”

He is talking to me. I sink back against the wall and try to hold my tears in.

“Yeah, yeah, your dead baby’s room. We’ve already heard about it. Now you either tell us where the shit is, Jon, or we’ll go get that little raven of yours next. And if she thinks what you did to her was bad, she’s in for a surprise. I have a guy in Columbia who’ll pay a half a million for a girl like her. I can pick her up and have her sold before anyone knows she’s gone. We’ve got her boyfriend in jail, and she’s on the run from the other two, just like we planned. Hell, they might not even miss her. Might just figure she moved on and found a new place to hide.”

Jon coughs again and more blood comes up. “I’m so sorry,” he breathes, again so low it almost doesn’t exist. He stops for a moment, his eyes still looking down at me. “I’m sorry. You’ll just have to kill me, boys.” And then his gaze finds the iPhone in a hazy beam of light that slips past his body and hits it in just such a way as to create a glint. He smiles for a moment, the blood spilling out of his mouth, and I quickly reach out and move the phone slightly just as Jon rolls himself over.

“It’s not here, Agent Abelli,” he says loudly. Plenty loud for the phone camera to pick up the name. “I gave it to the media, so just do what you want, I’ve got nothing to give you. Nothing at all.”

I close my eyes and put my fingers in my ears after that. They beat him, they kick him, they lift up his head and crack it against the grate so hard pieces of blood and bone from his cheek spray down on me.

His screams fill the basement and then, gradually, they turn to moans.

And even though I spent years wishing I could make him writhe in pain like that, it brings me no comfort.

I hate this. I hate everything about this. It makes me sick.

But I’m forced to listen for what seems like an eternity as they pummel him, knock him unconscious, bring him back, and then do it again. Until finally, he’s unable to be brought back and there is a moment of heavy silence when everyone realizes it’s over.

“Shoot him to make sure he’s dead then burn this place down. I’ll be in the car,” the Abelli voice says as he walks away. “If he’s hidden anything here, it’ll all go up in flames.”

That Abelli guy doesn’t even make it to the basement stairs before the gunshot rings out and pieces of Jon splatter down into the hole.

I clamp my hand over my mouth and close my eyes tight as the smell of gasoline fills the basement.

I wait for the whoosh of flame and then the heavy footsteps of the other man going back upstairs. I frantically push against the grate so I can climb out, but Jon’s body is in the way.

My breath starts coming in ragged gasps as the smoke fills the basement and I start to panic, my chest hitching as I try to take in air and push against Jon’s body. I’m ready to give up when I think of Ronin’s words the last time I saw him. Don’t panic, Gidget.



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