Plausible Deniability **EDITED**

Part Thirteen

I was gnawing on the inside of my cheek to keep from throwing up in the parking lot full of officers and agents. The screams and whines and cries that were coming through my earpiece were making my stomach churn and ache and the fact that I had to pretend like I was hardly bothered, only made it worse.

"What happened to your arm?" the Russian accent mocked.

"I got shot."

"Should we see what the damage is?"

I heard the bandages around her healing arm being torn. I heard a sharp hiss of pain.

"Aw. Looks like you've popped a few stitches."

I heard her take a few deep breaths, "shit."

"Don't start complaining, now. We're just starting to have some real fun."

I heard a heavy metallic echo and more fabric being torn. I closed my eyes and tried not to image what was going on inside that room... I knew he had her strung by the wrists with some kind of chain, every time she moved around, that unmistakable rattle would send a shiver down my spine. I knew that he had taken off her boots and tossed them across the room, Evan complaining about him scuffing them up as they made a loud thud on the concrete floors. I knew she was acting tougher than she should have been, but she was trying to keep him distracted. She was trying to break him before he broke her.

We had made the plan for her to go in alone and get captured. She made up the story of being the first one to arrive on the scene with a whole fleet of officers just behind her. In any other circumstance, it would seem too good to be true but with him being overeager to get his hands on an agent, he would buy into the lie and take the bait. Against his better judgment, he would ignore his guards' warnings about movement surrounding the building, being too busy with Evan to bother. This was the closest he's ever been to getting Emily. His 'fight or flight' instinct would disappear and we would have the time we needed to get ready to move in.

Once we knew that he had her, we sent in a few SWAT team members to take out as many guards as possible, without raising any alarms. They managed to take out almost all of his men, leaving the few that were guarding the doors to the room where Malk was keeping Evan.

"They're in this room, here," the lead agent pointed to a room on the blueprint for the building, "one guard for every door, here, here and here. It should be easy enough to get into once we get the word from your agent on the inside."

All I could do was nod. I checked my watch and started to count the minutes...the seconds...until we could go inside and get her out of there.

"Hospitals are going to run out of thread if you keep that up." I could hear her trying to breathe through her words.

"I don't understand how you can make such jokes. You are at my mercy."

"For now."

"You really think your team gives a shit about you? They would have come by now, if they cared. They would have caught me." He paused, "you think they're going to save you and put me back in that prison to rot? You think I'm going to let that happen?"

"No," she took another gasping breath, "I know my team will come. And when they do, they won't put you in a cell to rot, they'll put you in the ground."

"You seem so sure."

"I'm smarter than I look."

"And yet, you came right to me."

I heard the slap of skin on skin contact and Evan spit,

"I wanted to see what all the fuss was about."