Page 126 of Silence and Surrender

The fight was brief but brutal. Rodger was good—his military background obvious in every strike. But I was fighting for more than myself now.

My lawyer’s mind analyzed patterns even as my body responded with trained precision. His right cross dropped slightly; I sidestepped and landed a solid blow to his ribs. When he tried to recover with a low kick, I was already countering.

The whole time, all I could think about was Isabella. Was she safe in the panic room? Had she seen Rodger’s men coming? Was Cooper with her?

Rodger landed a blow to my shoulder, but I used the momentum to close the distance, executing the disarming technique Stryker had drilled into me for weeks. The gun clattered to the floor as Rodger staggered back.

“Not just brawn,” I said, advancing methodically. “Strategy.”

His eyes widened slightly—recognition that he had underestimated me. He thought I’d abandoned the strategic mind for physical training. He was wrong.

I moved in for the final combination that would incapacitate him, but Rodger was still dangerous. He feinted towards the door, then unexpectedly dove towards the server rack instead, knocking it across my path.

“Always have contingencies, Moreau,” he growled, using the momentary distraction to scramble toward a hidden panel in the wall, one not shown on any blueprint we’d studied.

I lunged after him, catching his ankle as the panel slid open. We struggled at the threshold of the escape route, his desperation matching my determination. My training gave me the edge; I locked his arm in a hold that had him gasping in pain.

“It’s over, Rodger,” I said, forcing him to his knees.

“Not quite.” Despite his position, his smile was confident. “Check your phone.”

I maintained the hold but glanced at my device. A new message flashed on the screen:security breach at our penthouse.

They were already inside.

Isabella.

The moment of distraction cost me. Rodger twisted suddenly, breaking my hold enough to slam his head back into my face. Pain exploded across my nose, but I barely felt it through the panic rising in my throat.

I reached into my pocket and activated the EMP device Stryker had provided. It was a last resort, one that would temporarily disable electronics in this small area. The lights flickered and died instantly. The server room plunged into darkness as the remaining screens went black.

In the sudden darkness, I could hear Rodger cursing. I moved with the precision Stryker had drilled into me, but Rodger used the momentary chaos to scramble towards the hidden passage. My hand caught his ankle again just as he reached the threshold, but he kicked free with desperate strength. The server rack he’d toppled blocked my path just long enough for him to disappear into the darkness of the escape route.

I could follow him or secure the evidence—not both. The EMP would disrupt surveillance systems and hopefully interfere with whatever communications Rodger was using to coordinate with his team at the penthouse. But it also meant I had limited time before backup systems came online. With Isabella in danger, there was no choice. I had to get home.

“Sari, server room,” I said into my earpiece. “Rodger running. Evidence secured. Send a team.”

I didn’t wait for her response before running toward the exit. As I reached the door, I heard Sari’s voice in my ear.

“We have activity at your penthouse, Colton. Multiple armed individuals. Cooper’s team is engaging but—”

“Isabella,” I interrupted, already moving faster. “Is she—”

“No visual confirmation yet. Cooper says the panic room is secure, but they’re using something to disrupt communications.”

I pushed through the chaos of the fire evacuation, ignoring the shouts from security personnel. Nothing mattered except getting to Isabella. Every second felt like an eternity. Every delay unbearable.

I passed the evidence to Sari’s agent at the rendezvous point with one clear instruction: “Make sure this reaches Interpol.” Then I was moving again, racing to get home. Squealing tires and sharp turns.

It was only when I was halfway to the penthouse that Sari’s panicked voice came through my earpiece.

“Colton—Rodger’s trail has gone cold. There’s a blood trail leading to a maintenance corridor but it disappears.”

My stomach dropped. “How? He was injured—”

“We don’t know. Security footage shows him leaving through a service entrance. He’s injured but mobile.”

Cold dread washed over me. Rodger was moving. And if I knew anything about him, I knew exactly where he’d go.

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