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“What?” Kyle leaned in closer. “What’s going on?”
“Suppose that answers my question.”
“Huh?” Confused, Kyle shoved a knot of vines aside in time to see two guards restraining a struggling Natalie. His heart plummeted to his toes. Goddammit. Why the hell had she gone in there by herself? If she’d just checked in with him, coordinated the approach, he and his team would’ve protected her, provided backup.
The guards dragged Natalie to the house’s front door, and a man emerged.
Fury and dread raged through Kyle’s system in equal parts. The thought of all the awful things that man might do to her nearly pushed him over the edge.
Miles Arrieta pointed toward the interior of the house, and the guards hauled her inside, kicking and screaming. Arrieta scanned the area, then followed, shutting the door behind him.
Kyle slumped back on his heels and stared into the overcast sky above. There was a choice to make. Go in, guns blazing, and settle the score for his brother…or abide by the rules he’d agreed to with the Agency: negotiate for Natalie’s release and take Arrieta in alive.
Either way, he figured it was time to make a stand. For himself. For Natalie. But most of all, for Nick.
* * *
“Get your hands off me!” Natalie tugged against the two goons restraining her as they dragged her down the long, dark hallway.
Dark paneled walls, gleaming parquet floors, paintings that looked like they cost more than the national treasuries of several small countries. Everything was refined and tasteful and expensive as hell, just the way Coran Williams liked it.
“Put her in the dining room,” Arrieta said, snapping his fingers. He pointed to a room near the end of the hall. “And make sure you secure her well. She’s been known to escape.”
She glared as the security guards moved her past Arrieta and into what appeared to be a formal banquet hall. The light was brighter here, with floor-to-ceiling windows stretching across one wall. One of the guards pulled out an ornately carved wooden chair from the dining table and forced her into it while the other man grabbed a length of heavy nylon rope and bound her ankles and wrists to the chair.
“You won’t get away with this,” Natalie called to Arrieta. “The Agency’s on to you.”
“The Agency?” With his white linen pants and tropical shirt, he strolled in like he was going to a champagne brunch. “Those losers couldn’t find their asses with both hands.”
“Yeah?” She snorted. “We found you, didn’t we?”
Arrieta pulled out another chair and sat across from her. He looked thinner than the last time she’d seen him. His hairline had receded farther too. For a guy who fancied himself in control of the universe, that had to be a real bummer.
The thought made Natalie snicker, despite the situation.
“What the hell are you laughing at?” he asked her, his black eyes narrowed.
“Nothing.” She squinted at his forehead. “Just thinking some Rogaine might be in order.”
One side of his thin lips quirked up into a sneer. “Typical Agency BS. Always going for the cheap laugh. Pandering to the lowest common denominator. Good thing the world will not have to suffer such juvenile behavior much longer.”
Desperation made Natalie feisty. Always had. And right now her situation was about as desperate as it could get.
“Tell me what the Agency’s plans are to capture me, Agent Matthews.” Arrieta leaned toward her and rested his forearms on his knees. “I’ve already deployed my virus, so I can only assume they hope to bring me in alive to tell them how to stop it.”
Natalie’s body, already sore from the previous day’s accident, screamed in agony over the awkward position the guards had secured her in—arms wrenched behind her and tied to the back of the chair, causing her chest to jut out at a funny angle and making it hard to take a full breath. Arrieta knew exactly what he was doing.
She wouldn’t be cowed, though. “Go to hell.”
“Tsk, tsk. Such language from a young widow.” He signaled for the guards to leave them, then stood and walked around behind her. The touch of his hands on her shoulders made her shudder. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Makes no difference to me, although the hard way is so much more interesting. Shall I tell you what that might entail?”
“I think I’ve got a pretty good idea, thanks.”
Arrieta squeezed her shoulders hard, pushing his fingertips into the pressure points near her trapezius muscles. Pain zinged down the radial nerves in her arms. Natalie bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out.
“First, I will start with a few techniques I gleaned from my friends in North Korea.” He released her shoulders and walked around to stand in front of her again. “They have taken the torturous arts to a new and brilliant level. One has to respect such dedication, don’t you think?” Arrieta walked with a slight limp, a reminder of the time he’d been tortured himself and left for dead. “You know what lingchi is?”
The death of a thousand cuts? Yeah, she’d heard of it.
