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“Oh, no. That unit is empty.” Ryan owns the unit next door. Trevor and Ryan lived in these two units before they got married, but Stella told me that now they use them mostly for guests of Arrow Tactical.
A toilet flushes, and the sound echoes through the open living area and down the hall.
“Why don’t you come with me, ma’am?” The man in the doorway asks. “Johnny will wait for your friend.”
They’re both wearing sunglasses. The man closest to me has a black beard and a mustache, and short black hair. But the hair protruding below the helmet, on the base of his neck, is a sandy colored brown.
A hand wraps around my wrist and tugs. The visual has a surreal quality. As if it’s not my wrist beneath his hand. Pain sears my lower arm.
“Let go of her.” Felix’s voice is calm. Eerie.
The black bearded man lifts a gun. Where’d that come from?
“If you want to live to attend your son’s birthday party, you’re going to put that gun down.”
“Right.” Amusement drips from the single word.
A gold chain glimmers.
Grrrrr.
“I’ll go. Just let?—”
“You’re not going anywhere, Sage. Back up. Slowly.”
A harsh pull on my arm hurts. I stumble forward and smash into the uniform of the man with a hooped earring. Pungent body odor fills my nostrils. I get a good look at his rope chain necklace and a silver cross pendant. Across his waist, in the leather work belt, there’s a handle to a gun.
“You need to let her go,” Felix says. “We’re a block away from headquarters. Within seconds, our team will be here.”
“Did you get a response to your text? Didn’t check, did you?”
I can reach for the gun. The holster isn’t a gun holster. It’s too wide. The gun isn’t secure.
“We blocked the Wi-Fi signal. No cavalry is coming, my friend. We’re not going to hurt her. Put the gun down. Live to see another day.”
“You’re not taking her.” Felix sounds like a movie action hero.
If I go for the gun, these two might shoot each other.
“What do you want with me?”
Keep them talking. It’s Sam’s voice.
“You’ve got a sister who wants to see you. We’re taking you to her.”
“And I’d love to see her. But why do you have guns?” Take the confrontation down a notch.
“Can we all put down the guns? Let’s talk this out.”
“Sage. You’re not going anywhere. Back. Up.”
In my peripheral vision, Felix comes into view. Gun outstretched. A two-hand hold.
If I back up, I can’t get that gun.
Pop.
The charged sound is muted. Yet unmistakable.
