strapped to that chair.
Slash was saying something as well, but I couldn’t hear him either. I couldn’t hear or feel anything, only stare at the video flashing in front of me, tears pooling in my eyes and dripping down my cheeks.
Finally, mercifully, Slash closed the laptop. He turned my chair toward him, gathered me in his arms and held me. I sat stiff as a board. He kept saying something, but I still couldn’t hear him.
At some point, he cupped my cheeks, made me look at him. I tried to focus on his brown eyes to bring myself back to the room, to the ugly reality I had to face. I couldn’t help Elvis if I were a basket case. I had to gain control, to think. Elvis needed me to be logical right now, and crying wasn’t going to do either of us any good.
“Slash?”
My voice sounded strange, like it was coming from a great distance. I blinked once and tried again. “Slash.” Now it sounded more like a croak than a word.
He nodded, brushed a tear from my cheek. “I’m here,
cara
. Just breathe, okay?”
I took a breath, blinked and looked around the room. It was empty.
“Where did everyone go?” I asked.
“I told them to give us a minute.”
“Broodryk...it’s him? He has Elvis? Where’s Xavier?”
Slash swallowed. “Xavier is in the hospital in Greece. They were attacked and Elvis was taken. Xavier’s alive, but he’s been badly injured.”
“Oh my God.” My voice couldn’t seem to go above a whisper. “Why?”
Slash kneaded the back of his neck, stood and started pacing again. “Broodryk wanted Elvis. Just like he wants you. I presume it’s revenge for how you stopped him at the high school on your last case. His entire cyber operation is in serious jeopardy now. He’s an internationally hunted man, and he’s looking for payback.”
“Elvis...” I could barely say his name without a shaft of pain spearing through my stomach. “Is he...still alive?”
“As far as we know. Do you want me to play Broodryk’s message again?”
I blinked back more tears. “No. Please. I can’t, Slash. Not yet. Can you just tell me what it says? I couldn’t hear him. Sum it up, okay?”
He sat down again, fixed the chairs so we were face-to-face. He took both of my hands in his and held them tightly. His expression was so strained I could see new lines near the corners of his eyes.
“Bottom line is Broodryk thinks he can get you to come after Elvis.”
I pressed a hand to my heart, as if trying to hold the pieces of it together. After a moment I asked, “Will he keep Elvis alive until I decide what to do?”
“There’s no decision to be made. You can’t possibly go after Elvis. It would be a suicide mission. He’d kill you both—most likely in some horrible fashion—as soon as you were out of the States. Then he’d use you as some kind of grotesque example of what he does to people who cross him.”
He muttered something in Italian, rose to his feet and started pacing again. I’d never seen him so upset.
I watched him, tried to get my mind around the situation. “What are my options?”
Slash stopped in front of me. “There are no options yet. We have a digital forensics team going over every inch of the video. Broodryk makes a brief appearance, but he’s masked. We’ll likely be able to match his voice characteristics to the ones we captured from the school incident. It worries me that Broodryk didn’t make an effort to change his voice. He wants you and everyone else in the world to be sure it’s him.”
“What’s the significance of that?”
“It means he wants the world to witness his game.”
“Are you certain it’s Elvis on the video? Maybe it’s just someone who looks like him.” I knew I was grasping at straws, but I had to ask.
He sighed. “It’s him,
cara
. Elvis spoke on the video, so I was able to personally identify the voice match. I assure you, I reviewed the video multiple times.”
“Okay.” My head hurt and I had started to shake
Slash was saying something as well, but I couldn’t hear him either. I couldn’t hear or feel anything, only stare at the video flashing in front of me, tears pooling in my eyes and dripping down my cheeks.
Finally, mercifully, Slash closed the laptop. He turned my chair toward him, gathered me in his arms and held me. I sat stiff as a board. He kept saying something, but I still couldn’t hear him.
At some point, he cupped my cheeks, made me look at him. I tried to focus on his brown eyes to bring myself back to the room, to the ugly reality I had to face. I couldn’t help Elvis if I were a basket case. I had to gain control, to think. Elvis needed me to be logical right now, and crying wasn’t going to do either of us any good.
“Slash?”
My voice sounded strange, like it was coming from a great distance. I blinked once and tried again. “Slash.” Now it sounded more like a croak than a word.
He nodded, brushed a tear from my cheek. “I’m here,
cara
. Just breathe, okay?”
I took a breath, blinked and looked around the room. It was empty.
“Where did everyone go?” I asked.
“I told them to give us a minute.”
“Broodryk...it’s him? He has Elvis? Where’s Xavier?”
Slash swallowed. “Xavier is in the hospital in Greece. They were attacked and Elvis was taken. Xavier’s alive, but he’s been badly injured.”
“Oh my God.” My voice couldn’t seem to go above a whisper. “Why?”
Slash kneaded the back of his neck, stood and started pacing again. “Broodryk wanted Elvis. Just like he wants you. I presume it’s revenge for how you stopped him at the high school on your last case. His entire cyber operation is in serious jeopardy now. He’s an internationally hunted man, and he’s looking for payback.”
“Elvis...” I could barely say his name without a shaft of pain spearing through my stomach. “Is he...still alive?”
“As far as we know. Do you want me to play Broodryk’s message again?”
I blinked back more tears. “No. Please. I can’t, Slash. Not yet. Can you just tell me what it says? I couldn’t hear him. Sum it up, okay?”
He sat down again, fixed the chairs so we were face-to-face. He took both of my hands in his and held them tightly. His expression was so strained I could see new lines near the corners of his eyes.
“Bottom line is Broodryk thinks he can get you to come after Elvis.”
I pressed a hand to my heart, as if trying to hold the pieces of it together. After a moment I asked, “Will he keep Elvis alive until I decide what to do?”
“There’s no decision to be made. You can’t possibly go after Elvis. It would be a suicide mission. He’d kill you both—most likely in some horrible fashion—as soon as you were out of the States. Then he’d use you as some kind of grotesque example of what he does to people who cross him.”
He muttered something in Italian, rose to his feet and started pacing again. I’d never seen him so upset.
I watched him, tried to get my mind around the situation. “What are my options?”
Slash stopped in front of me. “There are no options yet. We have a digital forensics team going over every inch of the video. Broodryk makes a brief appearance, but he’s masked. We’ll likely be able to match his voice characteristics to the ones we captured from the school incident. It worries me that Broodryk didn’t make an effort to change his voice. He wants you and everyone else in the world to be sure it’s him.”
“What’s the significance of that?”
“It means he wants the world to witness his game.”
“Are you certain it’s Elvis on the video? Maybe it’s just someone who looks like him.” I knew I was grasping at straws, but I had to ask.
He sighed. “It’s him,
cara
. Elvis spoke on the video, so I was able to personally identify the voice match. I assure you, I reviewed the video multiple times.”
“Okay.” My head hurt and I had started to shake
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