Chapter 4 - The Cell
|
The basement of the Russo estate was not designed for storing wine or old furniture. It was a labyrinth of soundproofed rooms, concrete floors, and harsh fluorescent lighting.
The guard dragged Norah down a long corridor, her rubber-soled shoes dragging uselessly against the rough concrete. He threw her roughly into a small, windowless cell. She hit the floor hard, crying out as her zip-tied hands took the brunt of the impact. The heavy steel door slammed shut behind her, the locks engaging with a heavy, definitive thud.
Norah curled into a tight ball in the corner of the room, shivering violently. Her gray uniform was soaked through with dirty water, clinging to her skin in the freezing air. The pain in her right hand was a pulsing, rhythmic agony that made her nauseous, but the fear in her chest was far worse.
They think I was part of it. The realization hit her like a physical blow. They think I was trying to distract him or hold him in place for the sniper.
Hours passed. The silence in the cell was absolute. She had no concept of time, only the agonizing throb of her hand and the terrifying thoughts racing through her mind. She thought of her mother’s medical bills, sitting on her cheap kitchen counter. She thought of her landlord, who would evict her when she didn't show up with the rent.
Suddenly, the heavy deadbolts scraped back. The steel door swung open.
The bright light from the hallway blinded her for a moment. Two guards stepped into the cell, hauling her to her feet without a word. They didn't loosen the zip ties. They marched her down the corridor and pushed her into a larger room.
This room was different. It looked like an interrogation room, complete with a heavy metal table and two chairs.
Sitting in one of the chairs was Daniel Russo.
He had removed his suit jacket, his white dress shirt rolled up at the sleeves. The right side of his jaw was grotesquely swollen, a dark, angry purple bruise spreading across his cheekbone. An ice pack rested on the table in front of him.
He didn't look angry. He looked intensely, terrifyingly calm.
Carmine stood in the corner, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes glaring daggers at Norah.
"Sit," Daniel commanded softly, gesturing to the empty chair across from him.
The guards shoved her into the chair. She sat stiffly, her broken hand burning behind her back.
Daniel leaned forward, resting his elbows on the metal table. He studied her face, taking in her bruised cheek, her wet, shivering uniform, and the absolute terror in her eyes.
"My security team has scoured the perimeter," Daniel said, his voice slow and deliberate. "They found a sniper's nest in the oak tree, exactly where you were looking right before you decided to assault me. They found a shell casing. A professional hit."
Norah swallowed hard, her throat bone dry. "I saw the laser."
Carmine scoffed from the corner. "Bullshit. Nobody sees the laser until it's too late. You were signaling him."
May you like
Daniel held up a hand, silencing his lieutenant instantly. He kept his dark eyes locked entirely on Norah.
"If you were signaling him," Daniel asked quietly, "why did you move my head out of the trajectory of the bullet?"
