Page 42 of Serpent King's Revenge

“We’ll talk soon,” Hayes said. “Just need to get you somewhere secure.”

I didn’t know what that meant, but I wasn’t going to question her. Instead, I was going back through our conversations, counting myself grateful for the fact that I’d kept my mouth shut. If my father had orchestrated this whole thing, he’d done it because he wanted to know if I was involved with the insurgents…and I’d come out clean. Even after the torture, the solitary confinement, the beatings, I hadn’t broken.

I’d proven myself to Ba.

And when I got out, I would kill him.

The car slowed down, and it was only then that I saw any kind of reaction on Hayes’ face. She frowned, looking toward the bars between the passenger area and the driver’s seat. “What’s going on?” she asked.

"Sorry, Agent," the driver's voice carried a note of confusion, "the car in front just stopped. No clue why."

"Call them," Hayes snarled, her eyes locking onto mine for a moment, as if blaming me for this unexpected hiccup.

But before she could say anything else, chaos erupted all around us.

The sound of automatic gunfire shattered the silence, bullets pinging off the van's armored exterior. I felt my heart jackhammer against my chest, the sharp tang of adrenaline flooding my senses.

"Down!" one of the guards yelled, his hand pressing on my shoulder, pushing me toward the floor of the van.

"Shit," Hayes cursed under her breath, her composure cracking as she looked around, trying to make sense of the ambush. She reached for a radio clipped to her belt but seemed to think better of it, instead crouching low.

The driver floored the gas pedal, and we lurched forward, only for the engine to roar in protest as we hit something hard. More gunfire, closer now, and the unmistakable sound of motorcycles.

"Who the hell is it?" one of the guards asked, his voice tight, fingers white-knuckled around his rifle.

"Does it look like I know?" Hayes shot back, anger flaring in her eyes. She was clearly as blindsided as the rest of us.

"Hey," I called out, trying to get someone's attention while keeping my head down, "you gonna uncuff me so I can at least have a fighting chance?"

"Keep quiet," another guard barked, not even sparing a glance my way.

I wasn't privy to the plan, but whatever it was, it had gone south fast. And with the metal cuffs biting into my wrists and the taste of fear thick in the air, I knew one thing for sure.

My life was dangling by a thread, and these guys weren't going to be the ones to save it.

So I moved.

I leapt to my feet, hurtling toward Hayes and shoving her against the wall with my shoulder. She let out a hiss of pain–but I barely heard it before I was being tackled by the guards, beaten bloody with police batons. I felt another rib crack, another…

I’d just gotten out of the clinic at the prison.

This could very well be the end of me.

I saw it coming, felt my mother in the dark with me. She didn’t look so frightening now, soothing me, telling me it was going to be okay…

…then light.

Light, burning my eyes from the back of the van, gunshots louder than before.

The door was open.

I burst through it, falling into the dust. And there…holy shit.

It was an all-out brawl.

Men in suits fought with those in street clothes, Triad against Triad. I recognized one of my father’s men–then I recognized someone from a restaurant down the street from the Red Lantern.

This escape attempt had turned into a bloody battle, and I was the prize.

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