and look the other way. Or maybe there was a way to remotely unlock the cell doors.
The hours slipped past. He dozed with an ear cocked to the slightest disturbance, an art he had perfected. It was a little past three in the morning when he heard it. The soft snick of the lock, the glide of the heavy door sliding open.
His muscles tensed in anticipation as two shadows moved into the cell. One broad and tall, the other leaner, with long bones in his arms and legs. He caught the flash of a blade in the lean man’s hand, but he was ready. He jerked his pillow up as the knife slashed down, felt a sharp sting that was meant to be lethal but dodged the main thrust of the blade. He kicked out at the man’s head, connecting hard enough to send the knife flying and the wiry body crashing into the wall on the opposite side of the cell.
The second man was on him, big and strong, a Janos Petrov look-alike with a shaved head and prison tats on his arms and the back of his hands. Bran came off the top bunk feetfirst, kicking the guy in the face so hard his front teeth jammed all the way into the back of his throat.
The big guy clutched his neck, made a gurgling sound, and lurched forward. Bran elbowed him in the face, smashing his nose, sending a spray of blood into the air.
The wiry man was up, swinging a blow Bran ducked. He took the guy out with a chop to the esophagus, then linked his hands and brought both fists down on the top of his attacker’s head, driving him into the floor face-first. He lay there unconscious.
The big guy swung a punch, but he was disoriented and badly injured, his broken nose affecting his vision. Bran punched him in the face, elbowed him, kneed him, and he went down. He didn’t get up.
Stepping over both men, he walked out of the cell, making his way to the guard station. He was bleeding a little, not too badly. In the guardroom, two men sat behind the glass, watching a pair of screens. Another guard, a woman, stood at the far end of the room. With any luck, they weren’t all being paid to look the other way while someone killed him.
The guards raced toward the glass door as he approached.
“I need to speak to Colonel William Larkin, head of Criminal Investigations. You’ve got two inmates down in my cell. They need medical attention. They were paid to kill me, so I think you had better make that call.”
His instincts said Larkin was a straight shooter. A little too by the book, but a man who believed in the law.
The female guard hurriedly picked up the phone while the other two guards sprang into action. The glass door slid open, one of the men grabbed him, spun him around, and snapped on a pair of cuffs.
A medic appeared to apply first aid to the slice in his shoulder, while two more raced back to the injured men in his cell. Then the female guard and one of the men led him down the corridor into a windowless interrogation room.
Better there, he thought, than back in the cell.
Or at least Bran hoped so.
Now he just prayed one of them had actually made the call.
* * *
It was four thirty in the morning when Jessie’s cell rang, sending a stab of terror straight to the heart. Her hand shook as she grabbed the phone from the nightstand. Hearing the ring, Chase knocked, then opened the bedroom door. Hawk appeared in the doorway beside him.
“This...this is Jessica Kegan.” Since she was sharing the suite with two men, she had slept in her yoga pants and a Denver Broncos T-shirt.
“Jessie, it’s Thomas Anson. There’s been an incident at the detention facility.”
She clamped down on a fresh rush of terror, saw the same fear reflected in Chase’s whiskey-brown eyes. “Is...is Brandon all right?”
“Colonel Larkin phoned. Brandon was attacked in his cell, Jessie, just as you were afraid he would be.”
“Oh, God.”
“He’s all right, Jess. The two inmates he fought with fared much worse. They’re in serious condition in the infirmary. The good news is what happened was enough to convince Larkin to take a look at whatever information the two of you can assemble. In the meantime, he’s releasing Brandon into your custody. Apparently he feels that if anyone can keep