Page 112 of Intrepid

From Sera.

I pressed play on the attached video. The screen panned over a woman’s slim bare legs, while the cameraman reached out, running his hands over them. As it scanned higher, over her bra, my pulse thrummed at a murderous pace through my veins. He landed it on Sera’s sleeping face and, with a bruising grip of her jaw, zoomed in, setting off an explosion of rage through my muscles.

I breathed hard through my nose to keep from crushing the phone.

I have something you want. Meet me on the roof of the old Free Press building.

Free Press building. What the fuck was at the Free Press building? No doubt the text was a set up, but it didn’t matter. I had no choice.

The game had changed once again, only that time, someone else had stolen the first move.

And that someone was about to die a painful death.

* * *

Construction equipment lay scattered across the front of the Free Press building, and beside it, an enormous tower crane that stretched over two-hundred feet toward the sky. The handgun Hank had left me sat tucked inside my waistband, alongside the hunting blade he’d gifted me, snapped inside its sheath and clipped to my belt.

Same blade I’d used to cut out Trevi’s eyeball.

I hopped the fence in front and entered through the torn-away plywood at the front of the building. About fourteen stories spiraled above me, as I stared up the stairwell toward the roof. Flight after flight, I rounded each one, taking easy steps to conserve my breath, until I reached the top-most level of the building.

Dead pigeons lay scattered on the rusted paper-littered landing leading to the roof door, as if an apocalypse had come through, wiping everything out. Ear to the door, I listened for any sounds on the other side, and slid my Glock from its holster. Nothing.

Slamming my shoulder into the hard steel cracked it open enough to slide through. The rooftop greeted me with the sounds of traffic below and the crane, whose boom hovered over the north side of the building. Lights from the nearby buildings offered enough visibility to see in the darkness. Midnight had settled on the city, casting shadows across the gravel. Watching for any sign of movement, I rounded the small roof access to the south side, coming to a stop at the sight of Dane’s gun pointed at me.

My gun pointed at him.

I’d already resigned myself to the possibility that I’d be ambushed, but seeing Dane standing over Sera, who lay slumped, passed out on the gravelly rooftop in nothing but a robe and boots, served to fuel my desire to kill the motherfucker.

“That’s close enough.” Dane’s smug grin had my fist curling, and all the ways he could’ve already violated her played like the set up for a slasher flick through my mind.

Bruises on her legs and jaw had my blood pumping like liquid iron, ready to rain hell.

“Where’s the ledger?” he asked, his question failing to draw my eyes from Sera, even if the surprise momentarily broke my thoughts.

Jesus Christ, she’d gone after the ledger, anyway. The distraction didn’t last long before my current situation yanked me back to attention, and I focused on how exactly I’d go about killing the little cocksucker.

“I’ll start with your fingers,” I told him. In my mind’s eye, I pictured slicing my blade through them like butter, seeing how many would fit inside his mouth before I taped it shut. “For touching her.”

“So sweet. Emotions must come as a surprise for a psychopath like you.” He chuckled and lifted the gun higher. “That’s why I’m not letting you near me, or her, let alone my fingers. See, I’ve done some homework about you. And I’m pretty sure Sera here is in deeper shit around you than she is with me.”

“I’m going to sever your femoral artery by stabbing your thigh as many times as it takes to cut through, and watch you bleed out,” I continued, ignoring him.

“Or you can answer the fucking question before I take the first shot.” Gun trained on me, he stepped behind Sera, backing himself to the wall of the railing. He sat down and pulled her limp body over top of him like a shield. “Doubt you’d take the chance.”

Sera’s eyes blinked open, and she stared up at me from below her brow. Her tongue swept across her lips, and in the next breath, she knocked the gun from his hand, rolling onto the ground beside him.

As he reached for his fallen weapon, I nailed the first shot in his shoulder, striding toward him.

“Motherfucker!” He gripped the wound, still clawing after the gun, and I hammered my boot into the back of his palm. Took less than a second to draw my blade, and I stabbed his index finger.

Dane howled in agony, while I pushed on the hilt of the knife, slicing clean through the tip of his finger.

A sting struck the back of my calf, where he bit down into my flesh, and I speared the knife into his thigh, the small trickle of blood telling me I’d missed my target. Dane screamed a second time, and at the crack of a gunshot from behind, he quieted to a whimper.

I twisted to find a portly man in a business suit, lowering his gun from the air, a tiny wisp leaking from its barrel.

Only he didn’t aim the gun at Dane or me. He held it steadily toward Sera.