As I drove home like a madman, all I could think about was my family. If I ever saw Dean, so help me God, I would kill him. I wouldn’t think twice about picking up the heaviest object I could find and bashing his skull open.

The rage I felt nearly clouded my vision. I struggled to focus on the road as my mind was trying to process a million other things. I had beaten Dean before; I could beat him again. But it felt like he was always one step ahead of me. I was losing this uphill battle, and I dreaded the thought of defeat.

I pulled into the driveway. No one was there. Where was everyone? How had he escaped with a whole VanGuard unit guarding the place? It didn’t make any sense.

For the first time in many, many years, I grabbed the gun under my seat. It felt heavy and wrong in my hands. Still, I carried it through the house, looking for signs.

It was empty. There was no trace of him or of what he had done to my family. Furious, I kicked the coffee table, sending it flying into the wall. This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t – I wouldn’t – let him win!

I stepped into the nursery one more time. Surely, he had been in here. It was only then that I noticed my laptop on the changing table. How had I missed it during my first sweep? Was I losing my touch?

Putting down the gun, I opened it. Before I could even type in my password, the screen flickered, replacing my wallpaper with Dean’s face.

“What the fuck have you done?” I demanded, knowing full well that he was watching me, just as I was watching him.

There was an amused look on his face. To him, this was all just a game. A way to torment and taunt me.

“You keep smirking, and I’ll blow that smirk right off your face.”

“I think you might have more pressing issues to worry about,” he mused, motioning to the bundle of blankets in the middle of the floor behind him.

Frankie!

“What have you done to my son?”

“Nothing – yet,” he said. “I’ve come only to give you options. On the screen, you will see two addresses.” I committed them to memory right before they could disappear. “I hope you got them because you won’t see them again. One of these will bring you to your son, the other to your… let’s call her girlfriend.”

I listened, knowing I depended on every word he said.

“Both of these locations are rigged with bombs. Given the timers I set on each of them, it will be impossible for you to save both, so the choice is yours. Save your son and only your son, or save your girlfriend and part of London. The choice should be obvious.”

“You’re a monster…”

“Maybe, but even monsters have their glory and victories. You call me evil, but I just want to play a game.”

“Murder is not a game!” I growled. “This is my family we’re talking about!”

“Oh? But going to war and shooting at other people – legalized murder – that’s okay? That isn’t a game? It’s justified by what, exactly? We honor great war heroes for massacring thousands upon thousands of people, but I decide to kill a few hundred, and suddenly, I’m the bad guy. Tell me how that makes sense, SEAL.” With that, he disappeared from the screen.

In my rage, I threw the laptop as hard as I could, watching it shatter. If only that could be Dean’s head.

Without a moment to spare, I ran back to my car and floored it, already dialing Cruz’s number.

“Listen to me. You need to head to 88 East Manning St. It’s in the countryside. You need to go there quick. Dean’s trying to put me in a Trolley dilemma, but he’s not going to win. I’m not going to let him win.” I was seething with anger. “It might be a trap going for Lauren, but I don’t care. I can’t let him blow up half of London just to get his revenge.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

“And don’t send out a unit. Something is wrong. No one was here when I arrived.”

“What? But I dispatched them over an hour ago.”

“I think he’s gotten to them somehow. He’s up to something bigger. I don’t know what it is, but we can’t let him do it. We have to stop him.”

“Don’t worry. No one is going to die if I can help it.”

He hung up. I threw my phone into the passenger seat, flying through the city.

Incoming call! My car announced.

I answered it, half-expecting to hear Dean’s voice.

“Franklin?” It was Ned.

“You’d better be calling with good news because I don’t have time for anything else.”

“Yes! I’ve found out where he is. It was a very small trace, but I was able to pinpoint his location. He’s on the move.”

“It could be a trap. A decoy to get us off course,” I said, thinking that Dean was capable of anything at this point.

“Does he have a twin?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, I hacked into the webcam on his computer. You know, for some sort of computer genius, it was really easy to get in there. It was almost like he wanted me to see him…”

“What’s he doing?”

“Just sitting there, holding a knife in his hand.”

“What’s the knife look like?”

“Um… It’s got this shiny purple handle. It’s a switchblade. The blade itself is kind of rusty.”

I ground my teeth. “He’s taunting us. That’s the same blade I used ten years ago. The one I plunged into his chest – but obviously not deep enough because had I killed the bastard, we wouldn’t be in this nightmare right now.”

“Well, he’s just looking at it.”

“I bet I know what he wants to do with it…”

“Et tu, Brute?” he asked.

“Oh no, he won’t stab me in the back. He’s going for my throat. He’s declared war, remember? But why is he walking into a gunfight with a knife?” I thought aloud.

God, why hadn’t I just killed him ten years ago? Why had I thought it’d be better for him to rot in jail?

“To make a statement?” Ned suggested.

“Shut up. Get in a car, and find him. The second you see him, shoot him. Don’t even bother asking questions.”

“But… I’ve never used a gun before.”

“Well, you’re about to learn.”

“I…”

“Go… now.”