Page 2 of Burned Dreams

“Because during the two months my men have been following him, he managed to break into eleven houses with top-notch security, without setting off the alarms, a skill that would be extremely valuable to us,” Kruger says and turns to face me. “Where did you learn to bypass the security systems like that, boy?”

I spit out another mouthful of blood. “Suck my dick.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk . . .” He shakes his head. “Looks like you need an incentive to cooperate. How about I have one of my men go grab that girl of yours and bring her here? I’m pretty sure she won’t take the beating as well as you do.”

My body goes stone-still. How the fuck does he know about Natalie?

“Oh, I see that got your attention.” He smiles. “I always make sure I get to know the person I’m considering recruiting. Their strong points. And their weaknesses.”

“You won’t touch her,” I sneer.

“No? Well, it depends on you, Az. If you do what I say, no one will touch your girl. In fact, you’ll soon be making good money. More than enough to get her out of that dump the two of you have been living in.”

Blood from the cut on my forehead drips into my eyes, making it hard to see. My hands are tied behind my back so I try blinking it away, but it doesn’t help much.

“Do what?” I ask.

“Work for the government. Or, more specifically, me.”

I let my eyes glide around the room one more time, trying to figure out a possible way to escape. To reach the door on the opposite wall, I would need to overpower the men holding me down, as well as this Kruger guy. All of them are armed, but it’s not impossible. The old man in the tweed jacket shouldn’t pose a problem. He looks more like an accountant or something. What’s he gonna do, throw a calculator at me?

“And if I say no?” I ask.

Kruger’s lips curve into an evil sneer. Reaching into a pocket of his tactical pants, he takes out a photo and throws it on the floor in front of me. The picture flips twice in the air before it lands face up. I stare at the slightly blurry face of my girlfriend. The shot was taken while Natalie was exiting the grocery store where she works.

“Let me demonstrate what’s going to happen if you don’t cooperate.” He takes out a knife from a sheath strapped to his belt, crouches in front of me, and thrusts the tip of the blade right into the middle of Natalie’s face. “Do I make myself clear?”

I don’t have the slightest idea who these dickheads are or what their plan for me is. Government, my ass. What interest would they have in someone like me? But the fucker knows where we live. I won’t risk them hurting my girl. So, moving my eyes off the photo, I meet the sinister gaze of the boss guy. “Yes.”

A smirk pulls at his lips. “See, Felix? He’s not stubborn at all. Trained properly, he’ll make a perfect soldier.” The son of a bitch laughs. “Won’t you, Az?”

Chapter 1

Eight years ago

“Az.”

I remove the last of my guns and look up at Felix, who’s standing by my locker.

“Kruger wants to talk with you,” he says. “It’s urgent.”

I nod and remove the bulletproof vest, wincing as the pain from the hit I took spreads through my chest. It was supposed to be a simple recon mission, but we were ambushed by the security team twenty minutes in. Belov caught a blade across his arm, but considering it was just the two of us against fourteen guards, we did well. I close the locker and peer at the blond man sitting on the bench by the wall. Sergei Belov is staring ahead with vacant eyes, and if his chest wasn’t moving, I would think he’s dead. Of all the guys who were dragged into this fucking program, he always seemed like the most normal one. Until he started going nuts a few years ago. He probably never hurt anyone before Kruger inducted him and shaped him into a cold-blooded killer. Just as he did with the rest of the boys who ended up in the Z.E.R.O. unit.

“You need to get Belov out,” I say.

“I know.” Felix sighs and squeezes the bridge of his nose. “I’m working on it.”

I give the old man a once-over. The relationship between the operatives and their handlers in our unit is supposed to be strictly businesslike. Typically, handlers provide support from a base of operations—mostly data collection and surveillance during the mission—but the relationship between Felix and Sergei has always been different. I doubt anyone besides me has ever noticed, the old man is too careful to never show favoritism, but Felix cares about him, and not just as an asset. He looks after Sergei as if he is his own kid, making sure Belov doesn’t snap and start killing people left, right, and center whenever he gets into one of his fucked-up moods.

“Work harder.” I grab my jacket and leave the changing room.

Flickering lights cast long shadows on the bare concrete walls as I walk down the hallway leading to Captain Kruger’s office. You’d expect the headquarters of a secret military base—one that has been in operation for over a decade now—to be a bit more polished, but instead, it’s just concrete walls, electrical wires fixed to the walls with plastic hooks, and the pervasive smell of mold. It’s better on the upper levels. These were used as sleeping quarters for the new recruits when the program first came into existence, but they haven’t been occupied in years.

The Z.E.R.O. unit is a highly classified project, kept off the books, that has a single purpose—to dispose of people deemed unwanted by the government or by Captain Kruger. Quickly, efficiently, and without a paper trail. It started as an eleven-man unit—five operatives, five handlers, and the captain. Now, we’re down to six. Three operatives, two handlers, and Kruger. It doesn’t appear like they’re planning on taking on any new recruits, so the program will probably be shut down when Sergei, Kai, and I end up dead.

I’m halfway to Kruger’s office when the elevator doors down the hall open, and a man steps out. The coat he’s wearing is unbuttoned, revealing a white shirt covered in blood stains. Kai Mazur. The last in our trio of operatives.

He turns left and heads toward Kruger’s office as well, his long jet-black braid swinging like a tail across his back. I always wondered why Kruger allowed him to keep his hair that length. The success of our missions relies on being covert, and it’s really hard not to notice a six-foot-five guy with a braid hanging down to nearly his waist.

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