We all gather tightly around the conference table for twenty-four gut-wrenching hours. Artur Grischa has us by the balls. We know it, and he knows it. We have three representatives from the FBI. One is Nick’s immediate supervisor, who seems unusually upset, and supplies us with a great deal of personal information.

Ben, who is not my number one fan, is personally blaming me for this. And he’s taken every opportunity to grind it in.

My entire team is clawing to get their hands on Grischa. And they’re even more pissed that the FBI are here, since it hinders their opportunity to execute justice in the manner they see fit.

I stand at the podium, my stomach tightened into a hard knot. I clear my throat to begin and take a deep breath.

“Criminals make mistakes, and it’s our job to find them. We have a team of elite specialists here. This whole operation centers on location. From the evidence collected, we already know the Russian has them. And intel supports the fact that he’s in the vicinity.”

Artur Grischa is a lunatic, a failure who thrives on money and murder. We uncovered a rap sheet a mile long from his homeland in Russia, yet he has never served a day behind bars. Somehow, he’s managed to work the system to his advantage. His influential wealthy partners in crime keep him active and available. No one knew who he was—or the truth—until it was too late.

“Yet no one has determined where.”

Ben’s heated gaze tears right through me.

“This is what we do: we save the innocent and catch the perpetrator—or eradicate the situation.”

I pause. Knowing the

“Each and every one of you, including myself, have a personal stake in this case.”

I shove my hands into my pockets, weighing down my worn fatigues and not giving a shit how bad I look.

“What if he hurts them?”

Ben’s concerns are valid. I don’t want to think about being too late. I don’t want to focus on my fears. The soldier in me marches on, but it’s also the man in me wanting to save the damsel—although Nick would kick my ass over that comment.

“That won’t happen.”

“Make sure it doesn’t.”

“Trust me, no man had ever fallen under my watch until this Russian prick appeared out of thin air. Prior to that, my track record was clean.”

“I don’t know how you’ve kept it out of the media for so long,” the tall FBI man comments.

“We have an understanding,” I said.

Then I see Mac approaching at a high speed, and my nerves jump.

“Sir, we have something. Satellite images, from this morning.”

He hands me the photo.

“That’s the warehouse district. I own one, as well as Alex Storm.” Ben rushes in and grabs the grainy photo. “That’s not Alex’s. His is being renovated, and there would be material scattered around.”

Our gazes lock.

“It’s mine,” I say.

It makes perfect sense.

“Flynn, put a man on clearing any occupied warehouses downtown. Men, here’s how we’re going in. I want everyone prepped in thirty.”

I bark out orders left and right.

We fully cooperate with the FBI. I’d willingly turn over the authority to save Nick and Jordan. They are my first concerns. Not to mention, the FBI has access to

Time goes by too slow as the men take their positions, securing the perimeter. From the edge of the clearing, the FBI scale the border wall, gaining the advantage. We are minutes away from go-time. The air feels thick, suffocating me. My heart spikes to a whole new level as my nerves fire rounds of anxious retaliation. I recognize that settling the score is in reach, and well overdue.

Checking my watch, I see it’s time. Every second is critical. Urgency courses through me as sweat trickles down my spine. Then I get the go. I take off in a sprint, followed by Flynn, and Mac on my back. We cross the northwest corner, weapons in hand. My breathing is labored as the adrenaline surges through my veins.

“Take it easy,” Flynn says, still in position, pressed to my back.

I look over my shoulder at him, and the stern expression on his face tells me he is dead serious.

The agent holding a flash grenade jerks the pin and tosses it effortlessly, hitting its mark. It explodes, followed by a glaring flash of light. The door disintegrates, allowing access for the first FBI team to enter.

Once we get the go, we enter the bottom floor. Blinded by smoke, we move in unison. Flashlight beams surge through the dense smoke. We’re searching, ready, and waiting to strike. When we heard all clear in the distance, we pushed on.

“Hot left.”

We maneuver into the only room dry-walled on this floor. The smoke dissipates, and there in the corner is Jordan, terror holding her in place. She’s unable to acknowledge our presence.

My stomach clenches as waves of horror wash over me. I take in her split lip and bruises. She is hanging limp from a rope, hurt and broken. It fills me with rage, and all sound vanishes around me. I watch Flynn run to her and cut her down.

She falls into his arms.

Without thinking, I remove my jacket and throw it at Flynn. He catches it on the fly as I grow closer to her. All I can see is her disheveled appearance, and that haunted look in her eyes.

She’s just standing stoic, in a trance. Could I have prevented this outcome?

The lights are out, but I can see the damage that’s been caused in this room.

I’ve known hardship and betrayal in my life, and it’s made me a hard man. Today, after all he’s done, I find myself walking on the edge of hell, and I crave the taste of his blood.

“How did you find us?”

Us.

Nick’s face flashes in my mind.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re safe now.” I’m barely able to meet her gaze. “Any other injuries?”

“My ribs. I might have broken one.”

She’s trying to stay sane and failing miserably.

“Mac, stay with her. I’ll confirm an ambulance has been called. Jordan, do you know where Nick is?”

I watch as the color drains from her face.

“She was in the main room. He separated us, and she was chained to a grid wall.” Jordan reaches for me and fists my T-shirt in her hand. “Find her, Steel. She saved me from an unthinkable nightmare.”

A chill rushes through me, answering the question I was too afraid to ask.

“Flynn, you come with me.”

As I lead us back to the smoke-filled room, Flynn covers every angle as I proceed forward. My heart picks up speed the closer we come toward the voices that echo from inside the room. Three heavily armed FBI agents stand, circling the man on his knees hovering over…

“Nick.”

I feel as if I am moving through mud. Wet, thick sludge. Fighting against the panic has me glued to the floor. I force my way through it frantically rushing to her side. Rage descends on me as the agent checks her vitals. She lays unconscious, her skin pale as I assess the scene. There’s a solid metal shelving unit pressed against her body on the concrete floor, unyielding as she starts to stir.

Her eyes widen in confusion, searching for answers.

My heart pounds as a surge of hope flutters to life.

“Shhh…” I attempt to soothe her. “I’ve got you now.”

I turn to the man treating her.

“Is she’s okay?”

“We’ll know more once we get this off of her. My only concern is if it’s punctured anything critical.”

His expression looks as if he isn’t so sure.

Sirens roar in the background, alerting the Med-Tech it’s time. It takes the help of each man to heave the heavy unit to its upright position, and there underneath lies Nick, small and broken, her eyes red and swollen, dark circles sunken beneath her lashes.

I only have minutes, and then she will be swept away.

“Brave and beautiful. I’m a lucky man.”

She swallows against the pain.

“Jordan?”

Intense relief fills my body.

“She fine, thanks to you. Just focus on getting out of here.”

I place a kiss on her forehead, careful not to disturb her injuries. The ambulance screeches to a halt.

“Nick, he’s still out there. I have to go.”

“Kill him.”

The FBI provide cover as both women are carefully escorted away. Reluctantly, I let her go. But I know our mission has not been carried out. We must find him, and finish this.

“Stay with me,” I say to Flynn.

Suddenly my rage turns to ice. The savage has gutted me.

We climb the metal stairs and sink into the darkness. Unleashing the rage, I’ve buried deep within me, I’ve been saving it for this very moment.

The FBI has swept the second floor and called it clear. But my senses tell me he still lurks, forced to stay hidden, protected within the walls of my warehouse. The perimeters are locked down tight, so he can’t run—at least not yet.

Hearing a noise outside, we look out the cracked window.

It’s a mistake, a reckless move on my part.

I turn and look into the eyes of the madman. They’re filled with triumph. He crushes out a cigarette with the toe of his boot and grinds it into the floor. An AK-47 points straight at us, and he smirks.

I’ve never been one for backing down, and this is no different.

His face is cast in the shadows, and I wonder if the monster in front of me will try to end the game by killing us both.

“You won’t kill us,” I challenge him.

If he’s smart, he’d use us as leverage to escape, but I won’t tell him that.

“You sure about that?”

“Call it a gut reaction.”

He has the advantage, the power in his hands. He’s definitely outgunned us. Yet neither Flynn nor I have lowered our weapons, and we won’t.

“I found something of interest.” I toy with him, but he doesn’t bite. “Does the name Dina ring a bell?”

He narrows his eyes.

“Small town in Livny?”

I see him slip, as fear and curiosity turn his world upside down.

“Ready?” I whisper to Flynn.

Then I deliver the final blow.

“She nineteen, right? Pretty girl. Artur, she jumped at the chance to visit the States, under my protection, of course.”

Sweat drips from his brow as he struggles to remain composed.

“Oh, and I have a message from her.”

The barrel drops only an inch, giving Flynn the opportunity, we can only dream of.

Flynn takes the shot, aiming for the chest, the noise piercing, echoing through the empty halls, and Grischa’s body slides slowly down the wall.

“Finish it, Steel.”

I quickly aim, his head in my line of sight, and fire. I can’t name the feelings swirling in my mind. The only thing driving me forward is the two women caught in the clutches of this madman, all because of me.

“Let’s get out of here.”

“I need to know for sure.”

I approach Artur, emptying my magazine in protest, each bullet representing a man’s life he took from me.

I stare at his riddled body with unforgiving eyes. It is over, finally over. I relish in the sight of his lifeless body, his eyes staring into nothing, only a vacant look left in its place.

Everyone else has heard the shots. The first one, and the ones that followed. But no one stopped me.

We work between the lines of right or wrong, and what happened tonight was pure justice.

I arrive at the hospital, blood splattered on my fatigues, hands, and face.

“Sir, are you hurt?”

The nurse stands to assess the damage.

“It’s not my blood. I’m here to see Nick Lancaster and Jordan Mitchelle.”

“Steel!” Ben calls out.

I cross the room and stand by his side. He gazes over my clothing as if he sees me in a new light.

“I’m grateful she had you to protect her and save her. Thank you. I will be forever grateful. A broken rib and a few cuts and bruises, but it could have been so much worse.”

I nod, understanding this moment.

“I feared losing her again,” Ben continues, and the silence that follows is thick and tangible.

“And Nick? What room is she in?”

“Next door.”

I enter quietly, unaware of what I’ll find. To my surprise, there stands the same three FBI agents I met earlier. Her supervisor is sitting close to her on her bedside. Too close. All eyes dart to mine.

I close in and place a tender kiss on her head.

She doesn’t object in any way; an attribute I credit to the strong drugs she’d been given.

“What did the doctor say?”

“A concussion, a gash on my leg, nine stitches. No big deal.”

She bravely plays it down.

I turn my attention to the three men.

“And Carrington?”

“He escaped, but he’s on our radar.”

“He’s dangerous like his son, only worse,” I warn.

“Our source is reliable, and it will only be a matter of time.”

Carrington is long gone. He’s got away, and he won’t be back. Of course, it’s impossible to know for sure, but I decide to let it go. He’s their problem now.

I turn back to Nick, focusing on her.

“How long will you be in here?”

“Released tomorrow, I think.”

“Good, that’s good. I’m heading home to change and shower, but I’ll be back tonight. Can I bring you anything?”

“Hmm… Yes, some real coffee.”

“With cream,” I add, the biggest, stupid smile on my face.

I sense the three men quietly leave. Finally.

“And donuts, with sprinkles on top.”

She’s definitely drugged, and a quiet chuckle rumbles deep inside me, warming me, surprising me. I just may have found my match.