Page 58 of Stryker

“What if they hurt himwhile we wait to make plans?” Stryker asked.

Brick walked across the floor andstood directly in front of Stryker. “If we don’t do this right,people will die. I need you to understand that this is the rightmove. I swear we will get John back and make them pay for everthinking of taking him in the first place.”

Stryker’s mind and body slipped intocombat mode. “Oh, they’ll pay. I’ll make sure of it.”

***

John

John’s entire body ached, and he wassure he bore bruises from bouncing around—first in the plane andthen in the back of the delivery truck. He wasn’t alone either andprayed no other project survivors from Fire Lake had been taken buthe had the sinking feeling that was a hopeless thought. He hopedthe deputy was okay. There was some measure of relief knowing theman had been tied up, indicating he was likely stillalive.

John had no idea where they were, butit felt like they’d been on the move for hours. He’d beenunconscious at the beginning of the trip and his head ached wherethey’d struck him. He didn’t think he had any lasting damage—atleast not yet.

“Get moving,” a gruffvoice commanded.

Someone grabbed his arm and pulled himfrom where he’d been kneeling in the truck. He had a hood over hishead, and his wrists were handcuffed together, but they’d no ideaJohn could see through the fabric. Hell, he could see through thetruck. He didn’t recognize their location or the building he wasbeing herded into.

It was dark outside and from what hecould see, there weren’t many other nearby buildings or signs. Hecould make out each Noah Group member’s face, because they made noattempt to hide them. The other prisoners had hoods on and Johnwould focus later on seeing who they were. For now, he wanted tomemorize each of his captor’s faces so he didn’t confuse them withthe hooded prisoners when the team came to save them. He waspositive the team was searching for him at that very moment.Stryker would move heaven and earth if necessary.

John kept track of the doors he wasled through, and how many rooms they passed. He needed to know thelayout. They stopped suddenly, and the Noah team spoke in hushedvoices. John took the time to study the other prisoners. Four men,two women. He breathed a sigh of relief when he didn’t recognizeany familiar faces. He was startled when he heard a voice, one hewas positive he’d heard before, coming from behind him. He didn’twant to turn around and give the fact away, so he stayed where hewas. Who the hell was it? It was so familiar.

“Keep moving.”

It appeared as though everyone wasbeing led down the same corridor until they reached one large room.Then they were all lined up facing the wall.

“Do as you’re told, andyou won’t be hurt. Attempt to escape, and youwillbe shot. Attack one of theguards and you’ll be shot. Use your abilities against one of theguards and you’ll be shot.”

Well, that was prettystraightforward. Fuckers.

“Load them into theircells.”

John was led down another hallway andthey stopped outside a steel door with a peephole that could beopened and closed from the outside.

The door was opened, and his wristswere uncuffed. The hood over his head was yanked off, and he wasshoved into his cell. The door slammed shut behind him, and Johngot a look at his new home. It had every amenity a standard jailcell would. Single mattress with basic bedding, a sink, small metalmirror, toilet, table with one chair, and a bottle of water. Yeah,he wouldn’t be drinking that any time soon. Who knew what the hellmight be in it?

His head was still pounding, and hewent to the mirror to see if he could make out any damage to theback of his head where he’d been hit. John gingerly touched the cutbehind his right ear. At least he wasn’t still bleeding. The cutdidn’t appear too deep, so he figured he’d be fine. Then heremembered something very important: his inhaler.

John patted his pockets and shirt butcouldn’t find his inhaler anywhere. Shit. He tried to calm down.The last thing he needed was to have an asthma attack. He banged onhis cell door, and someone opened the peephole moments later. Johnidentified him as one of the initial guards who’d unloaded themfrom the truck.

“What?”

“I don’t have myinhaler.”

“So what?”

“If I have an asthmaattack, without it I could die.”

“One less of you freaksain’t going to make a difference,” the guard said, shutting thepeephole.

Shit, he was on his own. John calmedhis breathing and closed his eyes. He couldn’t allow himself to gettoo worked up or overwhelmed. Stryker and the team needed to hurrybecause he wasn’t sure what these people had planned for them, andhe doubted he’d be able to keep his breathing under controlindefinitely.

What the hell am I goingto do?

Stryker had been teaching him to calmhis breathing and meditate, but John hadn’t mastered it yet. Heguessed wryly this would be the right time for a crashcourse.

There was banging nearby, likelycoming from another cell. Footsteps marched by his enclosure,stopping farther down the hallway.

“What?” the guardgrowled.

---