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Since it would get her outside, where she might be able to determine her location better, as well as an escape route, she nodded her agreement.

“I’ll leave you to your work,” Kingsley said. “There are refreshments in the fridge. If you need something more substantial, just pick up the phone. It’s connected to the kitchen.”

The door closed, and she was alone again. Since she knew cameras watched her every move, she didn’t bother to do anything other than what she had been assigned to do. This was her chance to accomplish what she had set up months ago.

Her biggest concern? Would Sean understand and follow up on the clues she had given him? He had been in so much pain—and had been so worried for her—that she feared he might have missed her messages. She could only hope and pray it would come back to him, and between him and the rest of the OZ team, they would find what she needed them to find.

The instant he walked out of the room, Colton was on his phone. He had barely slept last night. Though he had played it cool with Serena—because that’s what good leaders did—his gut was churning, and he was as close to throwing up as he’d ever been. Sean Donavan had escaped. Despite his severe injuries, he had somehow found a way to get in touch with his people at Option Zero. He would tell them everything.

Colton had received a refund as well as an apology from his superiors for the failed kill mission. That was something he would put in the chest for a future favor, which was always a good thing to have. However, that didn’t solve this problem. Sean Donavan was still alive. And that had Colton in a tailspin. The only reason he had shared certain private matters with Donavan was because he was never supposed to survive his captivity.

Torturing the man had been entertaining, but what had been the most enjoyable was talking with him about his plans for the future. Much of that had included confidential information that Donavan could use against him. If his superiors found out what he had revealed, his life would be over.

His only solace, his only hope, was that Donavan wouldn’t remember much. The man had been in severe pain much of the time, sometimes barely conscious. Sure, Donavan had asked questions that Colton had answered, but that didn’t mean he would remember. But he couldn’t count on that.

Bottom line was, he needed another kill contract, and this time, he wasn’t going to stop at just one. He would hire three different assassins and offer a huge bonus if the kill took place within the next forty-eight hours.

There was no other option. Sean Donavan had to die. And it had to be soon.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Sean wasn’t surprised to find a doctor waiting for him when he made it onto OZ’s private jet. Dr. Maximilian Birchwood, better known as Dr. Max to those who knew him best, had treated OZ operatives and employees for years.

“Well, you are quite the mess, Donavan.”

Sean acknowledged the doctor’s assessment with a small grunt, wincing at how the simple act of making a sound could cause pain throughout his body. Lying on a bed, looking up at his concerned face, Sean knew the words weren’t meant to be humorous. Dr. Max was nothing if not serious.

Closing his eyes, he tried to concentrate on the quiet drone of the jet’s engines and not the agony thudding through his body. All the moving around over the last twenty-four hours was finally catching up with him. Adrenaline had kept him going well beyond the norm, and now he was paying the price. He would’ve continued on, though, but Ash refused to talk to him until he’d been thoroughly checked out by the doctor. So he would grit his teeth and endure.

Fifteen minutes later, Dr. Max was only halfway through cataloging his injuries, and Sean had had enough. “Listen, Doc. I need to get out there and get to work, so if you could just give me a quick assessment⁠—”

“Now, Sean, you know that’s not my way.”

Yes, he was more than aware of Dr. Max’s thoroughness. He had, in fact, always admired his methodical and careful evaluations. Not this time, though. “Serena’s in trouble. I need to get out of here and help her.”

“Dying isn’t going to help her, son. When she gets home, I think she’d be very upset with me if I were to let you die. Now settle down and let me do my job.”

Knowing he could do nothing but wait the doctor out, Sean kept his mouth shut, releasing only a slight grunt or growl when the doctor pressed too hard.

Finally, giving his own grunt, the older man said, “Like I said, Sean, you’re a mess. But you should make a full recovery. If you⁠—”

Before the man finished talking, Sean was on his feet. It wasn’t fast, and he almost fell twice, but he managed to get his clothes back on and hobble out to the main area where Ash and Liam were quietly talking.

“Donavan!” Dr. Max snapped behind him. “You treat your body like that, you’re headed for an early grave. Sit the hell down.”

Since he was close enough to a chair, he gladly fell into one.

“What’s the verdict, Doc?” Ash asked.

“He should recover. Surgeon did a fine job on the leg, but he’ll need a few months of physical therapy to regain full mobility. Cracked ribs will make breathing painful, and he needs to limit screen time because of the concussion.

“Other than that, he’s suffering from dehydration, mild malnutrition, multiple lacerations and contusions. Fingers on both his hands have been broken and healed, but not well. They’ll give him problems on cold days when he gets older.”

He grimaced and added, “His fingernails were pulled out, but they’ve almost grown back, and at some point, he had a broken nose that he apparently reset on his own.”

Sean barely winced at the memory. Hadn’t been the first time he’d fixed his broken nose himself.

“His blood pressure’s a little lower than I’d like.”