Page 94 of Captive Prize

They always did.

Gregor didn't need to say anything more. His actions spoke louder than words.

He and the others were here to help me, support me, because I was one of them. I was in deep shit, but that would be handled later.

Together, we cleared the warehouse.

"Leave the ugly one alive!" I yelled.

"I'm going to need you to be more specific," Damien replied.

Mateo broke out of cover and ran.

"That one," I said.

"Then go get him, cousin," Gregor answered.

Together, we worked our way through the rest of the warehouse.

I didn't locate Mateo. The little weasel was surprisingly good at hiding.

We moved room by room, clearing the warehouse, leaving nothing but bodies piled for the flies and rats to find.

"Where did he find all these fuckers?"

"The same place they found the men who raided our compound," Artem said. "They hired a bunch of locals."

Damien made a low groan of agreement in the back of his throat, then used a handheld radio to talk to the snipers. Mikhail would be one of them, and since he was injured, Pavel would be the other.

"We are still looking for the girl but get the supplies ready. We are going to firebomb this fucker when we are done."

"Got it." Mikhail's voice echoed through the hall.

We cleared every room, every office on the main two floors.

"Has anyone come out?" Artem asked on the radio.

"Not a soul," Pavel said.

"Basement," I answered. "There is cold storage and some empty rooms, including one they use for interrogations. Maybe they put her down there."

"Maybe she is hiding down there," Gregor snapped back.

He made damn sure that I knew there was going to be a come-to-Jesus moment between us soon.

I bit back my commentary. He'd either see what I did, or he wouldn’t. Either way, we'd cross that bridge when we fucking got there.

We marched down the rickety metal stairs to the basement.

It was dark. Cold. Too cold. The only thing I could hear was my heart hammering in my ears. Gunpowder from upstairs still hung in the air until we got to the first hallway, and I detected it.

A metallic bite, an all too familiar smell.

Halfway down the hall there was a stain, a dark red liquid seeping from under the door.

"No," I gasped.

At the same time, Kostya said, "Is that blood?"

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