Chapter 27

 

URSULA FREI PUSHED the team’s pace as they hit the steep incline that led into the little town. She could see the lights twinkling through the thickening white all around them.

“You two, take the left flank.” Two of the men hurried ahead.

“Take five—seal the perimeter.”

Ursula switched to her radio link. It was useless outside a few hundred yards in this forsaken storm but it would do to address the team for now. “This is an SOS order, I repeat an SOS order.”

Her jaw flinched as she saw Ewan come toward her. She was not explaining herself now.

“Ma’am,” he said, lowering his voice. “Shoot on sight?” He glanced at the other CIG members. “You know what Lilia said after Oppidum.”

“Lilia isn’t here.” Ursula had issued the same order back in Oppidum. Lilia had taken issue with it but Ursula stuck by her decision. It had been the right one, the mess with Yannick proved it.

“Ma’am,” Ewan tried again. “You know our protocols. We start dropping suspects, the government starts asking questions and they will pull the op.”

“Yannick is a serial killer,” she snapped. “He has more kills under his belt than you have years of service.”

Ewan flinched. She was reminding him of his inexperience and he knew it.

“That guy has a gun, a knife, even his bare freaking hands and he is going to use them.” She glared at Ewan. “So, if you see him, drop him.”

Ewan sucked in a breath. The guy had a heart of gold. He was a damn fine agent and she liked him but there was no time for nice. No, nice, legal, and neat had gotten Yannick locked up in a facility that he’d talked his way out of. Nice had gotten five victims since his breakout and that was before he got to this little town.

“These people don’t stand a chance,” she said, hoping that her softened tone would ease the sting to Ewan’s ego. “There’s three civilian police officers and that’s it.”

Three ready packaged victims.

“But they have Renee,” Ewan said.

Ursula swallowed the rising bile. None of the other CIG members knew of Renee’s state or her past with Yannick Boucher. If they did, none of them would hesitate to pull the trigger and that was why she had kept it from them.

If they killed Yannick, she wanted it to be a clean kill, a simple doing their duty. The minute the words “vengeance” and “justice” came into the psyche, their days as a CIG member were numbered.

Lilia didn’t make exceptions to that rule.

As they approached the town, Ursula slowed and watched her men for the all clear signal. It came in seconds, and she strode up the main street and stopped outside the police station. Broken glass.

“In there.” The team regrouped around her. “You two, climb the escape. Someone has popped that door and I don’t want him leaving by it.”

“Ma’am.”

“Ewan, you’re with me. Everyone else, eyes trained on this building. No one in or out until I give the word.”

She didn’t wait for the response, but ran up the steps. Two officers were hammering away at the blast door. “He in there?”

“Yes,” the older of the two answered, his receding hairline glistened with sweat. She assumed he was the sheriff. “Aeron has gone through the back. Deputy is in there, one woman and your agent.”

“Why can’t you override it?”

The younger man grunted. “He’s done something to the damn lock.”

Ursula looked at the bullet-proof glass, two bullets jutted out.

“He was standing behind it,” the younger man explained.

Ursula ignored him and looked at the bullet, something on the other side was reflecting light onto it. A red LED. Typical. “Ewan, get everyone back.”

“What?” the younger officer asked.

She gritted her teeth and turned to Ewan. Why did she need to explain herself all the time? “IED on other side of the door.”

Ewan muttered a “Ma’am,” and tried to get the two officers to leave. They wouldn’t.

“One of ours is in there,” the younger man said. “I’m the damn sheriff . . . If I don’t at least try—”

“Sir, there is nothing you can do. We need to handle this from here,” Ewan explained.

Ursula didn’t deal with people when she could help it. Instead, she pulled a pack from a box in her pocket and started to check up and down the walls with her hands.

“What is she doing?” the sheriff asked, fending off Ewan’s restraint.

Ursula stopped where she knew the wall was structurally weak but enough away from a supporting beam, and the rigged door. She attached the plastic to the wall and set up the explosive’s detonator.

“Aeron isn’t armed,” she heard the older man say as she worked on the wiring. “She only has a ski-jacket on.”

He sounded concerned. A part of her smiled at the fact Aeron had gained respect here. The woman deserved a break.

“Let us handle this,” Ewan urged the two officers.

Ursula walked past them to the steps.

“Where is she going?” the sheriff asked.

Ursula simply held up the transmitter for them to see.

“Oh hell, she’s gonna blow the damn thing!”

The three men hurried to hide behind her.

“On three,” she said.

Ewan and the other men plugged their ears. “Read—”

“Three.” She hit the button and the wall exploded outwards.

  

YOU MARVEL AT the sight of her fear. The moment when a victim realizes just how powerful and masterful you truly are. Her eyes are wide as she pleads and begs with you. You motion to her face with the scalpel. “Time for a remodel.”

“No . . . please . . . no.”

“Marie!”

The scalpel clatters to the floor. You’re shoved into the hard iron bars. Your nose splits on them, blood gushes into your mouth. You turn and thump the imbecile. He drops back to the floor where he belongs. You kick his bloodied leg and laugh in his face as he grunts in pain.

“Pathetic . . . you think you could hurt me?”

You laugh again and grab the woman he is so obsessed with. Ah, so she holds his heart.

“C’est Parfait,” you tell him. “You will not love her when I have finished with her.”

“No.” He tries again and you smack him to the floor.

Tess murmurs and you leave the wretch and go to her side. Yes, she could never resist the pain of others.

“That’s it, my love,” you tell her. “I will find you . . . you will watch—”

“Aeron?”

Her voice so soft, so gentle, full of hope and affection. It ignites fury in you. Never once did she sound so welcoming to you.

“Who is Aeron?” you demand.

“Aeron?” she mumbles again. “Aeron, please.”

You slap her torn features. “You are alone. Do you hear me. Always alone. There is no one to save you!”

You slap her harder, the rage so vivid that your eyes blur from it.

“Where is your Aeron now?” You sneer into her face. “Where is this Aeron?”

You feel a hand on your shoulder. You turn to hit the deputy once more but you are staring at a broad chest. Your gaze travels upwards, up, and up, until you meet the ogre’s narrowed muddy eyes.

“That would be me.”

The last thing you see is her sizable fist speeding toward your face.