Page 124 of Faith and Fury

By midday, Faith’s face is over every possible news outlet. Every member of the NCPD, and of the course the RDF, has their eyes peeled.

And yet there’s still no sign of her.

I rake my hands through my hair, fighting the urge to roar up at the sky. Where the fuck did they take her?

“They must’ve changed vehicles,” Delia says, the four of us standing over the trashed remains of that unmarked van.

“Hector,” Caleb orders, “see if you can get a scent.”

Hector, our best tracker (after Maverick), takes a whiff of the inside of the van. He comes out again with a grim expression. “They covered their tracks. Bleached the whole thing.”

Caleb growls under his breath. “I want all of you in the tunnels—split up, find the three nearest entrances and get underground.”

“They probably had another car,” Delia reiterates, “I doubt they would’ve risked going on foot.”

“You’re not here to doubt,” Caleb snaps, “you’re here to take my goddamn orders.”

She bristles, but doesn’t hesitate, giving a curt nod before running off down the street. Hector is quick to follow.

Only I’m brave enough to hang back. “Caleb,” I get out, “we should get to the hospital. See what Maverick knows.”

For a second I think he’s about to snap at me, too, before he bites his tongue.

“Maverick just got hit by a truck,” he snaps. “No. He’s not the person we need to be talking to.”

I scowl. “Then who is?”

At last, Caleb meets my eye. His glare is like tempest, raging and roiling—more unpredictable than I’ve ever seen him.

He gets back into the car without answering. I have to be quick to follow suit, fairly certain he’ll drive off without me if I’m too slow. Barking a couple orders into his radio, telling the others to report if they find anything, he starts driving.

Within two turn-offs, I realize where we’re going.

The remand facility.

***

It’s my first time meeting Axe—the guards’ guard—up close and personal.

Just standing in the same room as this guy puts my teeth on edge. Stubbled bald, beady eyes, stitches around his head … he’s one mean-looking motherfucker.

“You’re back,” he greets Caleb with a leer. “Lucky me.”

“Want to get luckier?” Caleb asks, completely deadpan.

Axe recoils. “What, you coming on to me now?”

Without warning, Caleb lurches across the table, grabbing Axe by the scruff of his jumpsuit. I bristle to attention, shooting a quick look at the door. The wardens aren’t going to be happy if they see this. Neither are Axe’s lawyers.

“Don’t flatter yourself, you impotent prick,” Caleb hisses. “I’m here to make a deal. A fucking good one, if you have the information I need.”

Axe’s eyes flash. “I’m listening.”

Reluctantly, Caleb releases him, and I release my breath.

“We need to know where the ringleaders are hiding. I’m starting to doubt they’re even underground anymore, because we’ve searched those tunnels systems up and down, and turned up blank. So.” He leans forward, bracing his hands against the table. “Where else could they have gone?”

Axe hesitates. “What’s in it for me?”

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