Spy Games (Tarnished Heroes #1)(83)

Wei stalked out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Her hands shook and the anger left her cold, empty inside. This was all her fault. Because of her, her family had paid the ultimate price. Now, if it was the last thing she did, she wanted to see Ping and Wei pay. She wanted them to go down, no matter what.

She twisted her hands and dragged the zip tie binding her wrists to the front of her chair back and forth. It might take time, but she would break through the thing and then, well, they shouldn’t have left her in the room with the briefcase alone.

She still had Irene’s camera.

The best-case scenario she could see was getting free, snapping the pictures, then destroying the contents.

After that, Rand wouldn’t need to come after her. Everyone that mattered would be safe. They’d have the protocols, the country, and the world could go on in bliss, and she…would likely die. But at this rate, that was what she deserved.

Now she understood Rand’s drive, the push that kept him going because the innocents depended on him. His family and hers survived because he kept his distance.

Had his North Korean assets ever made it out of the country? Were they safe? What about their children?

She hadn’t thought to ask, and now she’d never know.

Footsteps thumped, coming closer.

“Shit,” she muttered. Sarah relaxed her arms and sat back, blowing her hair out of her face.

The door opened and both men returned, this time with a third. They must have had reinforcements somewhere as backup because these were not the bureaucrats she was familiar with. This man, like the others who’d handled her transport, were professionals. It was evident in the way they moved, how they followed orders, even the cool way they stared at her.

“Put her in the cell for now.” Ping’s gaze was cool, detached.

Wei pulled out a knife and stepped toward her. His gaze traveled from head to toe. He seemed to be considering where to put the knife first.

Sarah forced herself to stare back. To show as little fear as she could.

That man would enjoy killing her. There was no doubt in her soul that he took joy in that sort of thing. It was in the depths of his eyes, the way he clenched his fists. When he came for her, it would hurt. A lot. But she’d rather die than tell them the codes now.

He leaned forward and sliced through the tie binding her wrists to the chair. The thicker, plastic restraints were still around her wrists, but she was free of the chair.

Wei grabbed her by the back of her jacket and hauled her to her feet. Her legs were still a touch rubbery. She fell forward, bracing her hands on the table.

The briefcase was so close. She could—

Wei shoved her at the third man. He didn’t speak; he merely grasped her by the shoulders and marched her out of the room. The vibrations of her shoes hitting the metal felt weird against her feet. Her jeans were too abrasive. The sounds echoing in the ship were too loud.

Her family was dead.

It was all too sudden. It hardly felt real. But she’d seen the blast. The flash of light. It wasn’t like the cameras would catch the blaze, the carnage. The signal would go out when the blast happened more than likely.

Someone might have survived.

But the living room, it was right over the place where the camera had been focused on the gas line.

Everyone had been in the living room.

They wouldn’t stand a chance with a blast from below.

The man shoved her through a door. Her foot caught on the lip sticking up from the ground and she pitched forward into the semi-darkness, landing hard on her hands and knees. She briefly considered getting up, but what was the point?

Sarah sat down on her bottom, pulling her knees up to her chest, and looped her arms around them, burying her face.

In the beginning, it’d been so simple. Do a good thing for minimal effort. No danger. No risk. She’d never questioned the self defense classes or the need to learn to shoot. Yeah, she’d gone through minimal training because she was technically a CIA employee, but it didn’t seem to mean much.

They’d said her role wouldn’t pose a danger to her family. That she’d be helping keep them safe.

Now, because of her, they were dead.

Her chest ached, it was hard to draw breath. She choked down air, the sob wracking her body.

All she wanted to do was curl up on her side and cry herself to death. If she died…they couldn’t open the case. The biometric sensor would require her exact heat reading.

By the time they figured out she ran cooler than most people, they’d have likely cooked her entirely.

Sarah laughed at this crazy, weird place she’d wound up. She wasn’t fighting for her life, she was thinking about dying. As if it were a foregone conclusion. The her of twelve hours ago would still be fighting. But that version of herself had basked in her brother’s presence and gotten to laugh with her best friend while the man she loved looked on, part of her life. Now, she didn’t have any of that.

Rand couldn’t come for her. They both couldn’t die.

“Hello?” a rasping, broken voice called out.

Sarah slapped a hand over her mouth, muting her hysterical sobs. She wasn’t alone.

“Is—is someone there?” That voice…it was almost familiar.

“Who are you?” Sarah pushed to her feet. It was well and good to get a kick out of her own fate, but the world didn’t revolve around her. There were still bigger fish to fry, other ways of getting that the Chinese wanted.