Page 184 of Nothing Special X: The Last Stand

A blueprint of the building appeared on the screen.

“With Free’s system I can control the power to the entire block, traffic cams, and any police activity alerts. There’ll be no digital witnesses,” Fox added.

“Don’t let your guys know we’re coming until we’re already there.” Merdian nodded towards the screen at Free, Xander, and Tech who were hunched over. Curtis was fucking snoring as if he were in his own bed. “If they start to perk up, it’ll make the kidnappers think something’s up.”

Fox said, “I can take it dark when you’re ready.

“Not building power, they’ll panic.” Meridian’s partner Ex chimed in for the first time. “Give me exterior darkness. That’s all we need.”

Fox nodded once. “Done.”

Meridian went towards the door. The Browns and Greens shifted with him. Saint was still slicing his apple with the stolen blade as his partner fell in line beside him.

“I’ll make it dark on your count,” Fox said just before Meridian opened the door.

He walked out of the door with his men. Halfway down the hall, he spoke over his shoulder, as if he were making a quick run to the corner store. “Be back soon.”

Xander Vale

Xander couldn’t believe how calm the other guys were.

That kept circling his mind while he sat on the filthy cement floor of a gutted warehouse that smelled of wet rot and mouse droppings, with his wrists zip-tied in front of him and a man with a gun and heavy eyelids posted a few feet away.

Calm.

Tech sat with his back against a rust-stained support column, legs bent, glasses slightly crooked from where one of the kidnappers had shoved him down hours ago for talking. His hands were bound, weapon and phone gone, yet he only looked mildly inconvenienced, as if this was a long airport delay and the nearest Starbucks was fifteen gates down.

Free sat beside him, shoulder pressed to his, wrists bound the same way. He had dirt on one cheek and blood drying along one knuckle from where he’d hit the van floor during the ride, but his expression kept drifting between bored, annoyed, and intellectually offended.

Curtis had fallen asleep.

Actually asleep.

Slumped against the wall with his head tipped back, split lip swollen, one knee bent, snoring in a low, steady rhythm as if he was home on a couch after eating too much dinner.

Xander stared at him.

They’d been kidnapped at gunpoint in the middle of a public street. Taken in a van. Hauled into some warehouse they couldn’t identify. Tied up, guarded, threatened. Held for ten-million-dollar ransom by men aching to get revenge from last week.

And Curtis was snoring.

Tech and Free were whispering to each other about employment possibilities.

“I’m telling you,” Free murmured, “since the task force is shut down instead of job hunting, we should travel for a while.”

Tech’s mouth barely moved. “Maybe Europe. We could always consult remotely. You look amazing in scarves.”

Free’s brows lifted. “That is true.”

Xander was certain he was hallucinating from fear.

Curtis snorted in his sleep, shifted, and mumbled something before he dozed back off.

Xander wanted to slap all three of them.

Maybe this was their normal. But he was about three hours past almost shitting himself.

It’d been hours.