“No,” Chad said quickly.

  “Then stop distracting me, sober the fuck up, and let’s get to that roof and track the bastard down.”

  * * *

  It took them two minutes to find the Commando—and then ten more to lose him.

  “You sure he turned that way?” Marco asked Chad for the tenth time, making him curse under his breath.

  “Yes, and you saw it, too. Stop asking me about it.”

  “There’s nothing here. It’s a dead end. Where the hell did he go?”

  “I don’t know, but my ears are about to fall off.” Chad looked at Marco, barely keeping his teeth from chattering.

  “No way.” Marco jumped off the rooftop, probably to inspect the street once again.

  They’d followed the Commando through a maze of narrow streets, keeping just a few steps behind—and a few stories above. The man was most likely armed. Knowing the Commandos though, they hadn’t let him out of their sight even for a second. He had turned a corner into a dark dead end and never come out.

  Marco stood down there now, looking first one way, then the other. There were no doors, and the only window was boarded up. Nowhere to hide, nothing but litter and sleet around them.

  Chad sighed and jumped down after Marco.

  “Maybe he did climb that wall, after all,” Marco whispered, pointing at the building to his right. “It’s just two stories. Could’ve gotten to the top and kept to the shadows.”

  “In five seconds? I doubt it. Besides, the higher he’d be, the sooner we’d spot him.”

  Marco hung his head, muttering, “Goddamn Commandos.”

  He turned left and went to check the window again, but the wood held tight. Chad rubbed his frozen hands and breathed on them, shifting on his feet as he waited for Marco to return. He vanished from sight as he stepped into the shadows, only his frustrated grumbling and the sounds of him kicking litter out of the way giving away his presence.

  A minute passed, then another. “Marco?” Chad whispered.

  There was no response, so Chad went after him into the dark, feeling like a total idiot. He tripped over a cardboard box and cursed, kicking at it. The place was full of them, and it stank of piss.

  “What the hell are you doing there?” he said when he saw Marco crouched in the corner, his back to Chad.

  Marco got up and brought his index finger to his lips. Chad came closer, frowning in confusion.

  Only then did he see a gaping hole in the ground, blacker than the black of the street, a manhole cover lying next to it.

  “Is that…?” he whispered.

  Marco raised his finger again, this time telling him to wait, as his phone lit up with a new message. Chad spotted the sender’s name—Ginger Dick. Rooney. Marco had been waiting for a reply.

  He read the message quickly and looked back up at Chad.

  “Yes, it is,” he said, nostrils flaring. “It’s our goddamn tunnels.”

  Chapter 33

  Twenty-four hours since they brought her in, Victoria was still keeping up her stony façade.

  She hadn’t touched her food in the morning, and another tray now sat on the floor, forgotten. Sitting with her back against the wall, she stared ahead, still as a stone. Phoenix, on the other hand…

  Peter turned his gaze to the second window on his laptop screen, where another feed displayed Phoenix’s cell. The man was sitting on the floor cross-legged, staring at Victoria as he ate. He deserved an Oscar for his performance so far.

  Skull had pointedly ignored Victoria when he brought Phoenix to the cells, hands and feet chained together, the rattling loud enough to wake the dead. She had stared with a grimace of disgust, but Phoenix had just shot her a wry smile and passed out on the bunk. It would be suspicious if he showed instant interest in her.

  The show had begun the next morning.

  The things he said were innocent enough—some bluff, a little taunting to get her to talk. But the way he said them made even Peter’s skin crawl. The man had a talent for being a creep.

  “Still not hungry, little human?” he drawled, eyeing her food tray. “Or are you hoping to starve yourself to death? They won’t let you do that, you know. They’ll force you to eat and leave you to rot somewhere till you die rather than kill you. So… humane.”

  “Easy…” Peter murmured into his headset. They’d given Nix an earpiece—a small, skin-colored thing that Victoria wouldn’t be able to see from her cell—so he could hear Peter’s instructions but not the other way around. The sound was coming from the camera.

  Phoenix fell silent for a minute, head tilted to the side. Then he took a piece of bread, rolled it into a ball, and threw it at her. It sailed through the bars like a missile, hitting her in the head, and Phoenix smirked.

  “Hello there,” he said with a sinister grin.

  Victoria glowered at him.

  She swung her legs off the bunk, her hands gripping the edge hard. “What do I have to do for you to shut up at least for an hour?” she hissed.

  Phoenix didn’t miss a beat. “An hour? Mm… Wouldn’t mind more chicken.”

  Her eyes flashed, but she got up. There was an open slot at the bottom of the bars for the food tray, and she went straight for it. Holding Phoenix’s gaze, she crouched over the tray and spat in it. Then pushed it out of the slot and across the corridor.

  Peter raised a brow, curious. The tray stopped just outside Nix’s cell, and he reached through the hole and pulled it in.

  Just like Victoria a few moments ago, he held her gaze as he lifted the drumstick she had spat on and took a big bite. “We’re gonna be the best of friends, little human,” he crooned in his low, intimate voice.

  “Fucking animal,” she growled.

  Peter rubbed a hand over his face. This idea of his was either brilliant or totally insane.

  “Keep doing what you’re doing,” he told Phoenix. “She hates you already. This is good.”

  It seemed she was losing her patience, to the point where it was easier to respond to him than bear his insane muttering. She would slip up and give them another piece of the puzzle sooner or later.

  “Wanna know what they’ll do with you?” Nix mumbled, still munching on the drumstick. “Cause I know.”

  She shot him a sharp look.

  “They’ll make you disappear,” he said. “Pin something on you, big enough to put you behind bars forever and forget you ever existed. Who’s gonna miss you, little human? Your mother? Your husband?”

  Victoria glowered at him from her bunk, her hands clenched into fists, her breathing rapid. “Don’t talk about him. You don’t know anything.”

  “Why so angry?” Phoenix said with a chuckle. “Does he beat you or somethin’?”

  She jumped to her feet. “Don’t talk about him!” she yelled, making Peter flinch. “He’s dead! I killed him with my own hands, and if you don’t shut up, I swear to God, I’ll find a way to kill you, too.”

  Dead? Peter swallowed hard, both at the news and her reaction. He had thought Victoria’s husband was hidden somewhere nearby while she was looking for ways to help him. But if he was dead…

  “Nah,” Phoenix drawled. Only a brief pause gave away his surprise, a few seconds that he must’ve used to reassess the situation and pick his next words. “I doubt you killed anyone, let alone your husband. You humans are all talk, but when it comes to action, you freeze. Just like mice.”

  “I did what I had to do,” she spoke through her teeth. There was a pause, and then words poured from her in a hushed, breathless torrent, as if she’d been carrying them inside for a long time. “He begged me to put him out of his misery. The nightmares, the phantom pains—he couldn’t take it, and the doctors couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t do anything.” She sat hunched on the bed, her gaze on her hands. “It took away who he was, little by little every day. I thought I could fix it. But it only got worse. He wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t drink, he lashed out at me, tried to kill himself half a dozen times. Until I couldn’t take it anymore, and he… he was so convincing. He lied…” Her voice broke off in a sob. “He lied about everything. It wasn’t right. It never felt right. It’s he who didn’t want to get better, and he used me.” Her voice became a whisper, and Peter strained his ears to hear. “I should’ve never listened to him.”

  A few seconds passed in silence. Phoenix glanced at the camera but didn’t say a word, probably knowing he would spoil it if he opened his mouth.

  She scoffed. “You happy now? Knowing I’m miserable, and nothing you say can make it worse?”

  He only tilted his head, still silent.

  Victoria wiped her face, standing. “Your kind is like a plague. You’re everywhere, everyone believes you can do anything, the government, the army… Those agents, they were supposed to save him, but they fucked up and made him a cripple instead. Not for the first time, too. I’ve looked into it, plenty of cases like that. And now they’re shocked we want to make them pay for it.”

  “Pay for it?” Phoenix prodded.

  “Yes, pay,” she broke off suddenly, and for the briefest of moments, Peter saw her eyes flash at the camera.

  He sighed. They were this close.

  “I’d love to see you do that, sweetheart,” Phoenix said. “But trust me, if there was a way, someone would’ve found it already.”

  A shaky, hysterical laugh spilled from her lips. “Oh, there is a way. But I doubt you’ll live to see it, Beast.”

  With that, she went back to her bunk and lay down, turning to the wall. Peter rubbed a hand over his face, reminding himself to be patient. They’d already gotten something out of her; another day, and she would spill enough for them to untangle this mess.

  One thing was clear: Victoria hadn’t gone off the grid to seek out help—she’d done it for revenge.

  The office door cracked open, Luke’s head popping in. “Marco and Chad want to see you.”

  “Nix, I’m out, you’re on your own,” Peter said into the headset before taking it off. “Send them in,” he told Luke.

  He got up and stretched, stiff from the hours spent in the chair.

  “Oh, you better sit down for what you’re about to hear,” Marco said as he walked in.

  Chad came in after him, his appearance more than a little haggard.

  “What is it?” Peter asked, leaning against the table.

  “No, I mean it.” Marco’s voice turned serious. He stopped a few steps from Peter, crossing his arms.

  Peter looked at Chad, genuinely puzzled now, but the young man ignored him and took a seat at the table.

  “Fine.” Peter sat back down into his chair and held up his hands. “Shoot.”

  “You know how we’ve been trying to follow the Commandos, but they kept vanishing into thin air?”

  Peter shrugged. “Sure.”

  “That’s because they’re using our tunnels.” Marco stared at him, unblinking, and Peter stared back.

  A few seconds passed, and Peter laughed. “No way!”

  “That’s what I thought at first, but we just got a confirmation from Rooney. I’m serious, Peter.”

  The smile slid off Peter’s face. “What kind of confirmation? That’s insane. Why would they use our tunnels, and how would they do that without running into us?”

  Marco blew out a breath as he ran a hand over his mohawk. He took off his coat and took a seat next to Chad. “They wouldn’t run into us if they only used old exits, the ones we abandoned after Eugene split. They’d only need to go in and out to lose the tail. Besides, it’s winter, and with how much they know about us, I wouldn’t be surprised if they knew that we barely ever use the tunnels now. It’s already dark by six.”

  Peter listened with a detached frown as the truth sank in. Marco told him about the lead at Archie’s and the Commando disappearing exactly where their old tunnel exit was.

  “That still doesn’t prove it,” Peter interrupted him. “If he knew he was being followed, he could’ve had some other way out. Someone waiting for him, maybe?”

  Marco nodded. “That’s why I asked Rooney to check another location. The one where Jane and Ryan lost a Commando, the bastard who tased me? There’s another old exit, and I bet if you show it to them on the map, they’ll confirm that’s where the Commando was going.”

  Peter blinked a few times, struggling to wrap his head around this. “The map…” he said, taking out a stack of papers from a drawer. He found an A5-sized sheet with all the locations the Commandos had been spotted at, then got up and went into his room to look for an old tunnel map.

  Coming back into the office, he unfolded the big map on the table. “Show me the exit you found.”

  Marco traced the streets with his finger for a minute, until he pointed out a blue dot. “Here.”

  Peter grabbed a highlighter from a drawer and circled it. “And the other one?”

  “Here,” Marco pointed.

  Peter tapped the highlighter against his palm once he was done. “I still don’t think that’s all there is to it. They’ve been super careful so far, and the ones we did capture, that was only because we’d tricked them. But if they’ve been watching our parking lot to know when to follow Dave and Elena, and they’ve managed to stay off the radar for so long while abducting our men, they might be watching us on a much bigger scale.”

  Marco frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Give me a minute,” Peter said, reaching for his cell phone. He called Rob’s number and waited for a few beats for him to pick up. “Rob, you busy?”

  “Not really. What’s up?”

  “Here’s a question—which tunnel exits have you used the most recently?”

  A long pause. “Not sure what you mean. I don’t keep track of how everyone gets in and out. Do you need a list or something?”

  “No, wait. Forget that. Just pick one you have used in the past two weeks.”

  “Hmm. Okay, it’s probably the only one I’ve used all winter. Why? You want me to go there now?”

  “Can you do that?”

  “Sure, I’m just a few blocks away. Gimme a minute.”

  Peter waited as he gazed at the map, the paper yellowed after decades of use.

  “Okay, I’m here. Should I go in?”

  “No, and do exactly as I say now.” Peter switched on the speaker, putting the phone down as he took a seat next to Marco. “Take off the cover, and please tell me you have a flashlight.”

  “Sure. What am I looking for?”

  “Just stick your head in and see if anything’s out of place in there. On the walls, the ceiling, the—”

  “Shit!”

  “What is it?”

  “Um… Can’t say for sure, but it looked like a tiny camera. It’s right there in the corner, just under the manhole.”

  Damn it. Peter rubbed his temple and closed his eyes for a second.

  “Whose is it?” Rob asked. “Is it the Commandos?”

  “Who else… You think they saw you?”

  “I was in and out in a second, but I did point my flashlight right at it, yes. If they’re watching it in real time, they might have seen it. Should I take it down?”

  “No, don’t touch anything. You can get back to work. Thanks.”

  “No problem.” Rob hung up.

  “We’re not taking down the cameras?” Marco asked.

  Peter got up and pushed the chair back in its place. “No, we’re not.” He rolled up the map, thinking about what else he’d need to take to Rooney.

  He could see the questions in Marco’s eyes but didn’t say anything as he tucked the map under his arm and left.

  Chapter 34

  Chad glanced at his phone as he pushed open the infirmary door—eleven o’clock. It felt like three in the morning, with the exhaustion weighing him down like a ton of bricks.

  At least Doc wasn’t there, so he didn’t have to speak to anyone. The beeping of the heart rate monitor and the sterile smell had become familiar. He pulled his chair up to her bed and settled into it, relieved to be off his feet. His breath smelled of alcohol, and his stomach felt as if it were digesting itself—which it probably was—but he was used to ignoring the feeling by now. The hollow pit in his chest was harder to ignore.

  “Hey,” he murmured, leaning forward on her bed. Her hand felt cold, her fingers unresponsive as he wrapped his hand around them. “We found something tonight. You’d better wake up before you miss all the fun.”

  Only the beeping filled the silence.

  In the moonlight that spilled through the windows, Pain’s face seemed deathly pale, but he had to believe the tests that said she was doing well. He bent down, planting a kiss on her fingertips even as his eyelids drooped, sleep creeping in from the edges of his consciousness.

  He didn’t bother to change his awkward pose, sprawled between the bed and the chair with one arm wrapped around Pain’s hips while he drifted from one troubled dream to another. Just when they’d let him be, and the blessed nothingness had enveloped him so he could rest, someone touched his shoulder.

  He peeled his eyes open, surprised by the streak of light on the horizon when it seemed like mere minutes had passed since he’d fallen asleep. There was no one behind him when he looked over his shoulder, and he let out a disappointed sigh, realizing he had dreamed it. His body ached, muscles cramped up, his insides in a knot.

  Chad pushed himself upright and rolled his shoulders, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He looked at Pain—and nearly fell off his chair.

  She blinked, watching him in that calm way she turned when she got lost in thought. It can’t be. For a second, he thought it a dream, but the digits on the beeping machines were too sharp, and his hand had five fingers, and the image was too damn good to be a figment of his imagination.

  He opened his mouth like a fish, then grabbed her hand and squeezed it, getting a squeeze in return.

  “Pain?” he gasped, jumping from the chair. “You’re awake—how? When?”

  She blinked again, her face blank. “Who are you?”