Undercover Captor (Shadow Agents 5)

A gun was shoved into his back. A knife put to his throat.

“Got you,” a man’s hard voice snarled.

Anton shrugged. “So it would appear.” But he wasn’t interested in talking with a flunky. He wanted to see one man. Needed to see him. “Where’s Mercer?”

Because he knew that Mercer would have been pulled out of his office. For a case this personal, there would be no sitting on the sidelines for him.

Lights flickered on in the factory. One after another, flashing on in rows.

Anton didn’t even blink at the onset of all that too-bright illumination in a factory that should have been without power for years.

I know how appearances can deceive. Hadn’t he been the one to first teach Mercer that lesson?

Anton’s gaze cut to the left. The man with the knife had short, dark hair and a gaze that said he’d seen plenty of death.

Good. Then there would be no surprises when he saw it again.

Anton pounded his cane against the floor. “I asked for Mercer.” He let his shoulders hunch inward. A frail old man was what he appeared to be. “I know...he’s here...” He huffed out a ragged breath. “Where...is...he?”

“Right here, Anton.” Mercer’s strong voice rang out.

Then he was there. The devil himself was striding from behind the old machinery and walking so confidently toward Anton.

You think you’ve won.

It was time for the man to see exactly what he’d lost.

Anton hunched forward even more. The knife was cutting into his throat, but he didn’t care. He’d never minded a bit of blood.

He wasn’t the squeamish sort.

But then, neither was Bruce Mercer.

He clutched his cane then jerked it up in a flash. Before the knife could slash his jugular, he drove the handle of his cane into the man’s side. The man stumbled back, but Anton was already attacking a second time.

He whirled around. Pushed the handle of his cane to deploy his own blade—

And he drove that blade into the stomach of the fool who’d pulled a gun on him.

The gun discharged. The bullet drove into Anton’s chest.

Good thing he’d been wearing a bulletproof vest.

He laughed when the second agent fell. He was still laughing when he turned to face Mercer—

And the gun that Mercer had aimed right between Anton’s eyes.

“Rachel?”

Ah, yes, that would be the agent with the knife—now he seemed to be desperately trying to save his partner.

Pity. Anton had sliced her nice and deep. Saving her might prove difficult.

“It’s over, Anton,” Mercer said, voice flat and hard. “You’re done.”

Hardly. “Actually, I’m just getting started.” But he dropped his cane and raised his arms as if surrendering. “Can’t just kill me now, can you?” Mercer and his code of honor. He wouldn’t shoot an unarmed man in the head.

Mercer’s gaze glittered. “Yes, I can.”