"No? Well, he'll die trying to save you all the same." Rice laughed, the sound echoing through the empty space. "Mr. Blackwood! I know you can hear me. Why don't you join us?"
I met Gideon's eyes across the room. This wasn't how the extraction was supposed to go.
"I'm going to count to three," Rice continued. "Then I put a bullet in Vivienne's head. One..."
"Wait!" Emily cried.
"Two..."
I stepped into the doorway, weapon raised. "Let them go, Rice. This is between you and me."
The room was larger than I'd expected, with broken windows along one wall letting in the fading afternoon light. Rice stood in the center, one arm around Vivienne's throat, a gun pressed to her temple. Emily was on her knees nearby, hands zip-tied behind her back. Two armed men flanked her.
Rice smiled, his expression coldly triumphant. "The hero arrives. Right on schedule."
"Let them go," I repeated. "You want me? Here I am."
"Dion, don't—" Emily began, but one of the guards struck her across the face, silencing her.
Something dark and primal roared to life inside me. "Touch her again and you die first," I promised, my voice deadly calm.
Rice's smile widened. "Such passion. But you're not in a position to make threats, Mr. Blackwood. Put down your weapon and kick it away."
I hesitated, calculating angles, distances, probabilities. Even at my best, I couldn't take out all three men before one of them shot Emily or Vivienne.
"Now," Rice demanded, pressing the gun harder against Vivienne's head, making her whimper.
Slowly, I lowered my weapon, placing it on the floor and kicking it toward one of the guards. "Now let them go."
Rice laughed. "I don't think so. You and your wannabe soldiers have been a thorn in my side for too long. Investigating things that don't concern you."
"Children being trafficked concerns everyone," I countered, watching for any opening, any distraction.
"Business is business," Rice shrugged. "And you're bad for business."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Emily shifting subtly, maneuvering herself into a better position. Despite her bound hands, she was preparing to move. Our eyes met briefly, and I saw not fear, but determination. My Emily wasn't giving up without a fight.
"Where's the rest of your team?" Rice demanded, his eyes darting around the room. "I know they're here."
"It's just me," I lied smoothly. "I came alone."
Rice's expression hardened with suspicion. "You expect me to believe that? The great Dion Blackwood, rushing in without backup?"
"For her?" I looked directly at Emily. "Yes."
Something flickered in Emily's eyes—recognition, understanding, perhaps even forgiveness. Whatever our argument had been, whatever had driven her to leave, none of it mattered now.
"How touching," Rice sneered. "The Marine and the social worker. Star-crossed lovers."
Vivienne made a choked sound, her eyes wide with terror as Rice tightened his grip around her throat.
"Here's what's going to happen," Rice continued. "You're going to tell me exactly what information Ms. Carter hasgathered about my operation, and where those files are kept. Then maybe—just maybe—I'll consider letting one of them live."
"Don't tell him anything, Dion," Emily said, her voice steady despite the trickle of blood from her split lip.
The guard beside her raised his hand to strike her again, but I stepped forward. "Touch her and the deal's off."
Rice signaled the guard to stop. "Smart man. So, the files?"
