Relentless (Option Zero #2) - Christy Reece Page 0,1
circumstances.
“You don’t.”
“Then I guess I’ll remain nameless.”
A chuckle came from Xavier’s cell. “You’ll have to forgive him. He’s only had me to talk to for weeks.”
“You two came in together?”
“Something like that.”
“Who are these bozos?” the stranger asked.
“Not sure yet,” Xavier said. “They’re not much on sharing.”
“I’ve heard English, French, Arabic, and German,” Liam added.
“Nice to know I was sold to such a diverse group.”
“You were sold?”
“That’s my guess. I was in Colombia, got attacked by some kind of cartel. Things got bloody and bad. Next time I woke up, my surroundings looked nothing like Colombia.”
“Hate to be the one to break the news to you, man, but you’re in Syria,” Liam said.
“Ah, hell.”
There was a wealth of meaning in that statement. One that Liam could identify with. There were so many factions and groups here, it was hard to know who was responsible and what they wanted.
Not that he and Xavier didn’t know what these goons wanted from them. That had been made clear the first day they arrived. And they would die before they gave it up.
“How long you two been here?” the newcomer asked.
“Hard to say,” Liam said. “What do you think, Bear?”
“Bear?” the man said.
“Since we’re not saying names, I thought we’d just give each other nicknames. The guy in the other cell is Bear. I’m—”
“Let me guess. Lion?”
“That’ll work. You can be Tiger.”
“So tell me, Bear, does Lion always talk incessantly, or do I just bring it out in him?”
For the first time in days, both Xavier and Liam laughed. It felt good, real good. Liam was liking this guy more and more.
“Yep. My mama used to tell me that I—” Liam cut off when heavy footsteps headed their way. The footsteps stopped at his cell. His body tense, he waited. He knew what was coming.
The cell door opened, and Liam didn’t even bother to look. He refused to give them even that much respect.
Grabbing him under his armpits, they picked him up and carried him toward the door. They were taking him away? That had never happened. They’d always interrogated him inside his cell. What was going on?
“Hey! Where’re you taking me?”
Refusing to go without a fight, Liam put all his energy into kicking and throwing punches. Using his bound hands, he swung with all his might, making contact with a hard jaw. He had less than a second to feel triumph before a fist slammed into his head, and he went limp. The last thing he heard was Xavier shouting.
Chapter Two
A strange, unfamiliar noise jogged him awake. Blinking open heavy, swollen eyes, he looked blearily around. This wasn’t his regular cell. He’d figured after the questions and the subsequent beating, they would’ve returned him to his old one. This one was cleaner, in better condition. Not only was there a toilet, as opposed to a bucket, he was lying on a narrow cot, and a small, high window blew a cold breeze through the openings in the bars. Liam inhaled the first fresh air he’d felt in days. Icy air went through him, waking him further. The beating hadn’t been as bad this time. Just a few good punches, three or four kicks, and then a solid head thunk. So what was the point of moving him here?
In the midst of wondering, he heard a sound again. Someone was in the cell next to him. Before he could speak, a harsh cough followed by a moan of misery had him on alert. The moan had been distinctly female.
Oh hell, they’d taken a woman hostage?
“Hello?” he said.
Like a faucet being switched off, the noise ended abruptly.
“Sorry,” he said, “didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Hello?” The voice was tentative, most definitely female, and painfully hoarse. From the hacking cough he’d heard earlier, he imagined she’d been ill for a while.
“Are you okay?” Stupid question. Of course she wasn’t okay, but for the first time in years, he was stumped for the right words.
“No.” Another harsh cough, and then she continued, “Not really.”
“How long have you been here?”
“I don’t know. A few days…maybe a week?”
“Have they given you any medical treatment?”
“No.” She sighed and then coughed again. “I don’t think making me well is in their plan.”
“You’re American?”
“Yes.”
“You were abducted?”
“Yes. One minute I was in the market looking at a scarf, and the next minute I had a hood over my head, and I was in some kind of vehicle.”
“Have they hurt you?”
There was a long pause, much too long for the answer to be favorable. “Yes,”