Duncan woke to the sound of dripping water methodically striking a metal pipe before dispersing in an annoying splash that slowly soaked his face and hair. A huge ache in his head and across his body reminded him that he was still alive; for that, he was thankful. He closed his eyes as another drop hit his forehead and slid down his cheek. He shook his head to clear the water and immediately regretted the action. He rolled to his side, as much to escape the annoying drip of water as to assess his injuries.

Duncan squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to remember the events leading up to his capture. He had assembled a small squad for a stealth mission into the compound where his intelligence had told him Hawkins was holding Caitriona. He had purposely sent troops in a 20-mile radius to destroy Hawkins’ main supply lines. The smash-and-burn raids were nothing more than a decoy. As Hawkins’ men scrambled to hold their supply lines, Duncan’s small team penetrated the areas close to the enemy compound searching for signs of Caitriona. The plan was almost too perfect.

But after two days of unsuccessful raiding and searching, Duncan gave the order for his men to return to Casa Naica. As he and his men were making their way back to Hawkins’ main compound where they would have one last look, Duncan received a communication from LaFelle that nearly stopped his heart. LaFelle had felt Caitriona’s presence. Duncan’s elation at knowing she was alive was short-lived. Goddess only knew what Hawkins was doing to her. Duncan felt the rage boil inside him.

LaFelle had been unable to provide any further details. The connection with Caitriona had been short, enough to confirm she was alive. They still didn’t know where she was. Duncan ordered his men to resume their search.

Lost in his thoughts, Duncan missed the signs of an enemy scouting party. All too quickly, he and his stealth team ran into Hawkins’ marauders. Duncan wasn’t worried. After all, it wasn’t the first time he and his men had surprised Hawkins’ troops.

Duncan winced as he shifted his weight, the pain bringing him abruptly out of his ruminations and back to the present. He groaned as sharp daggers of pain clawed deeply within his head. This wasn’t unfamiliar territory for him. He’d felt deep bone-wrenching pain before and knew he’d feel it again. He was bred to be a warrior; genetically engineered to be the very best. His bones and his skull were thicker than most, his muscles stronger and faster. His lungs were designed to quickly move oxygen into his blood and to his body. And his hearing and vision were far superior to most other humans. Luckily, the genetic attributes he relied on in battle also allowed him to heal faster than most. Right now, though, the pain was like lightening, stabbing microscopically into every brain cell and nerve.

Don’t open your eyes, he repeated the mantra over and over in his head until the chant became an earworm burying deep within his skull.

He knew as soon as he opened his eyes the pain would intensify, blurring his vision and bringing bile to his throat. He closed them even tighter, as if the soft light of the room was already amplified through his eyes. He could almost anticipate the focused pokers of fire that wouldn’t be far behind. Sometimes the pain was blinding. Sometimes he’d merely be sick. He’d hoped it was the latter. He had to find Caitriona.

So he let himself lie there, as he tried to remember what had happened.

His team had done well. Teams, Duncan reminded himself, stressing the plural in his thoughts. Eight supply raids in two days. His raiding squads had bought him the time he and his elite team needed to scour the compound for Caitriona. They had relentlessly burned the supplies, ensuring Hawkins’ men were busy putting out fires and securing their additional stores.

Duncan chuckled thinking about the attacks, and then grimaced as the pain reminded him of his injuries. Fast in and fast out. His elite team watched for retaliation as the fires began. Nothing. Hawkins’ men were too engrossed in battling the fires and trying to salvage equipment and food from the fires to do anything else. He let them work hard and think they were successful. Then, his snipers began shooting. As the enemy took cover, the charges placed under the fires exploded. A chilling smile spread across Duncan’s face as he thought of the destruction his men instilled on Hawkins’ supplies and troops.

But they still hadn’t found Caitriona.

He had divided his small team, leading his elite soldiers ahead of the main force. They had decided to head back to the main compound. Three of his men would enter from the front; he and Lee would enter from the rear.

The team didn’t even stop to think. They were born warriors, each genetically engineered to provide advanced military accuracy in fighting. Weapons raised, the fight began. With the initial surprise on his side, his four men had easily taken out five enemies in the first crucial minutes. Duncan had pulled his claymore and raced into a group of men standing near the entrance of the overly large adobe-type compound nestled in the side of Naica Mountain. The bizarre lust rage that he assumed during battle took over. Another five of Hawkins’ men succumbed to his team’s blades and weapons. He glanced at Lee, covertly taking out another man who ventured into the compound’s lobby at the wrong time. Casting a glance at the stairs, Duncan motioned Lee to approach the grand staircase while he’d provide cover.

They didn’t get more than a few feet when the place suddenly erupted in an explosion. The blast knocked him off his feet and slammed him hard against the stone wall. His ears were ringing as he pulled himself to his feet. He looked around for Lee but couldn’t find him through the smoke and the debris. Duncan’s skin was bruised and battered from the explosion, but otherwise he was unharmed. His men didn’t fare so well.

“Retreat!” he yelled over the noise. His obligation and duty to his men came first. He had to get them away from the compound and fires that were still erupting all around them.

Lee appeared at his side. Dazed and bleeding from a nasty cut across his thigh, the smaller warrior looked like he was barely able to stand. “Gi yerself and the men back tae Casa Naica, now!”

His second snapped out of his daze and quickly assessed and organized the team to retreat. “Where are you going, Duncan?” Lee shouted above the fray.

“I’m nae leaving her here,” he shouted.

“You don’t even know she’s here. And you’ll have no team to back you. Come with us!”

“Go,” he yelled again. “That’s an order.”

As Duncan turned to go up the stairs, an enemy soldier grabbed him. Duncan swung his claymore, but it clashed against the man’s shield. His men were already retreating. Again, he swung the claymore and this time was rewarded with the sickening slurp of skin separating from flesh as he brought the enemy down.

“Reconnoiter with the squad and if I’m not there in 24 hours, secure the hacienda and move the troops,” Duncan ordered.

Lee saluted and he and the others retreated, their orders clear.

Fighting against the smoke that was filling the room, he started back up the stairs when something knocked him to his knees, expelling the air from his lungs. He didn’t have much time to think about this latest threat before another blow struck him hard across his back and he slumped to the ground. Dazed, he pushed himself upright and stood, leaning against the wall for support. He turned, just in time to use his claymore to block the enemy’s deadly blow. Metal slid against metal. With the wall behind him, Duncan didn’t have room to swing his claymore.

Bellowing, he pushed the soldier from him, freeing his blade, but not before the soldier’s blade struck his shoulder. The pain didn’t register immediately but a split second later, he saw the blood run down his arm as the nerves were exposed to the air, sending hot pokers of white-hot pain surging through his arm. He bellowed again, more from frustration than from pain.

He fell to the floor, struggling to keep conscious. Duncan could feel the familiar heaviness as his brain began to slowly lose consciousness. Fighting the inertia that threatened to pull him under, he rolled over on his side, struggling to push himself to his feet.

He thought he saw Lee and three of his best Templars disappear up the stairs. What were they doing here? he thought as his brain tried to make sense of the chaos erupting around him. As his eyelids closed he felt rough arms grab him. Nearby, the tintinnabulation of swords sang out against the cries of wounded men. His eyes refused to open though, and the rough arms that grabbed him hauled him to his feet. His legs weren’t working. They felt as heavy as his eyes. The last thing he remembered was the fist connecting to his temple and the searing pain that ripped through his body.

Duncan squeezed his eyes shut against the memories that flooded through him. He still wasn’t sure where he was or what had happened to his men. Damnu, Duncan thought angrily as he finally opened his eyes. The pain was worse than he imagined or remembered. He fought back the roar that threatened to leap from his throat and concentrated on drawing steady breaths of air through his battered ribs and lungs. Closing his eyes again, he focused on getting the pain under control. He had to figure out where he was and more importantly, where Caitriona was being held.

Duncan’s body took over. In the blackness, his brain reached out, searching her lips, her breath, her very soul. He thought he felt a spark as something deeply intense flowed through him. While the blackness hung over him, there was something new in its place—a raw sort of energy that remained at the surface, wanting to be used.

Duncan opened his eyes again, blinking back the heaviness that threatened to keep them closed. He blinked several more times, the webs beginning to untangle themselves. He was awake, his mind and body struggling to catch up. He had to find his men. He’d need their help if he was going to get out of this mess and find Caitriona. Hauling himself to his feet, he groaned as the pain in his ribs reminded him that he was at a severe disadvantage.

Looking around the debris littered room, he saw one of his men dead on the ground. “Damnu,” he cursed aloud, feeling the outrage boil within him. Fear gripped him as he thought of Caitriona and Hawkins’ vile mistreatment of her. Hearing something, he looked around for cover. Finding nothing substantial, he moved behind the door and waited. He didn’t have long to wait. When the door flung open, Duncan’s military training kicked in. Hitting the intruder hard with the door, Duncan spun the dazed soldier and put him into a choke hold.

“Where’s Hawkins?” Duncan growled.

The soldier didn’t answer, instead kicking and twisting to gain the upper hand. The soldier was no match for Duncan’s genetically bred strength, even with his recent injuries.

“Where?” Duncan growled again.

The soldier sputtered and clawed at Duncan’s arm. Giving one last crushing squeeze, Duncan was rewarded with the slump of his victim, who’d made his choice. Lowering the man to the ground, Duncan saw the hate on the soldier’s face. Another life lost to the Order’s tyrannical cause. Duncan dragged the dead soldier away from the door and turned him over to retrieve his weapon.

“Caitriona,” he whispered, “I need ye, lass…where are ye?”

Again, he felt a spark of something raw and deeply connected course through him, setting every nerve on edge. The energy was almost cathartic, healing him, giving him strength that he shouldn’t have felt. Yet, as abruptly as it came, it left just as quickly, an emptiness settling around him once again.

Duncan shoved the soldier’s weapon into the waistband of his trues and cautiously peered out the door. The vastness of the compound made him realize he’d been hauled into one of the adjoining rooms. He ran to the front entrance and peered outside. The courtyard was empty save for the bodies of soldiers and innocents that littered the ground. Duncan stepped over a body that was blocking the entrance.

Where in the hell was Caitriona? he thought. And what in the hell happened here? He stopped in his tracks as a flood of energy washed over him once again. This time, he embraced the feeling and allowed it to overtake him. The sensation reminded him of the energy he had felt in the cave. Only this time, neither Caitriona nor Danika were here with him. He shook his head wondering if he had simply imagined the feelings.

Shaking his head, he scanned the courtyard looking for Hawkins’ men. He had to get out of here and find Caitriona.

As he started to leave, he saw a flash of his clan’s color about 200 meters in the distance. An explosion rent the eerie silence that had settled over the mountain. He watched as thick plumes of smoke rose quickly to the sky and the surrounding landscape burst into flames. Within minutes, the flames rose above the trees and the smoke threatened to choke everything in its path. Duncan heard another explosion behind him. Turning, he watched as another plume of flames and smoke littered the air. Somewhere in the distance Lee bellowed orders to his team, but the commands were muffled and distorted by the distance and gunfire.

Duncan watched as the sky lit up again. Like fireworks, the explosions were dazzling in a hedonistic and destructive way. Duncan was brought out of his musings when he caught sight of his men battling the Order’s troops as they fought their way to the mountain. They needed his help. Hawkins’ men were advancing from the front and if he wasn’t mistaken, would soon flank his men from the rear. He had to get Lee and the others out of there.

Pulling the next-gen weapon from his trues, Duncan slid the safety off and powered the chamber. Sighting his weapon, he started to pull the trigger but froze. The energy he felt earlier washed over him again, bringing him to his knees. In his mind, he heard a woman scream—a deafening, terror-filled plea that made him cry out in frustration and anguish. The scream and the energy belonged to only one person and he’d be hell bound if he was letting her down again.