The left side of my face was on fire. My left eye was nearly swollen shut. My right arm felt like it was broken. When I took a breath, a sharp pain shot through my ribs. My wrists and ankles were bound with duct tape, making an escape highly unlikely. With my shoulders against the wall and my knees slightly bent, I wasn’t comfortable by any means.

But I was alive.

Alive, angry, and prepared to do whatever I must to survive.

Five minutes earlier, Jack led me into the room. He removed the zip ties, and the hood from my head. He then duct-taped my wrists and ankles, and left. Occasionally, I could hear him talking quietly to someone in the adjoining room, but I had no idea who that person was.

The fact that I was alive convinced me there was going to be some attempt to negotiate on Jack’s part, but he had yet to make me aware of what his plans were.

The door opened, and Jack stepped in. He glared at me for a moment as if he were disgusted, and then waved the barrel of his pistol in my direction. “I was beginning to wonder if you were who they thought you were. You seemed so innocent. Hell, I was about ready to give up. Then, you brought me exactly what I hoped for.”

“Jack, I have no idea who you think I am,” I pleaded. “If it’s anything other than a psychiatrist who is scared out of her mind, you’re mistaken.”

“Truthfully, I’m not sure who—or what—you are. Would you call yourself a double agent, or just a traitor?” He cocked his head to the side. “I’m curious how you see yourself.”

I looked away. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Jack.”

He cackled a sinister laugh. “Are you even a psychiatrist, or is that bullshit, too?”

I met his gaze and held it. “You obviously have very, very bad information. Think about it, Jack. I went to work and came home every day. No friends. No associates. No strange travel patterns. Then, one day, I got scared. I made a mistake.”

He leaned against the door frame and scratched his beard with his free hand. “I like the way you use my name when you answer me. They train you to do that, don’t they? To cause me to be sympathetic?”

He was right.

I lowered my head in mock frustration and let out an exaggerated sigh.

He cleared his throat. “You’re working for the Intelligence Branch of the FBI gathering intelligence on the corrupt activities of New Dawn while you’re collecting a paycheck for working at the Director of National Intelligence’s very same New Dawn program. Hell, it even confuses me to try and say it.”

I lifted my gaze to meet his. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about you gathering data in an effort to prove the Director of National Intelligence and the US President have knowledge of the illicit activities in the DNI, and then providing that data to the FBI’s Intelligence Branch so they can use it to politically motivate the President. You’re a double agent and a fucking traitor. The last piece you needed was something to leverage the President’s political relationship with Mexico, and you got that in Nogales when you killed the infamous El Gordo Ortiz, didn’t you? After that, you started your little killing spree.”

“You’ve got the wrong person.” I tried to stand but failed. Aggravated at his accusations, I shot him an intense glare. “I work for the DNI as a psychiatrist.”

“You draw a paycheck from DNI,” he argued. “I work for them.”

Fuck.

Fuck.

Double fuck.

“You’re the type of person this nation needs to worry about,” I snarled. “You murdered two combat-decorated Marines.”

He gave me a curious look. “Speaking of killing Marines, did you put in your report that you killed that Lieutenant Colonel? Martin?”

I glared.

He stroked his beard with the web of his free hand and grinned. “You’re a pale bitch all the time, but you just transformed into an entirely new shade of pale, Val.”

“Fuck you,” I spat.

“As soon as your little boyfriend gets here, you two are the ones that are fucked.”

My suspicion was spot-on. The DNI did plan on killing us, and their executioner was standing before me.