“But that depends entirely on what you do next.”

He tossed a printed document onto the crate in front of me.

“Sign the confession,” he said.

“Admit to the financial fraud and the espionage charges.”

“And your daughter stays alive.”

I looked at the document, then up at his cold, unblinking eyes.

The pen lay beside the paper, its silver clip reflecting the lantern light.

My hand strained against the plastic ties behind my back.

I looked at Daniel, who was shaking his head in terror.

“Don’t do it, Morgan,” he whispered.

“If you sign that, they’ll kill us both anyway.”

The officer smiled, tapping his finger against the screen of the video feed.

The image of my daughter flickered, then stabilized.

“Ten seconds, Captain,” the officer said, his voice completely devoid of emotion.

“The choice is yours.”

I felt a sharp object press into the palm of my hand from behind.

It was a small, metallic edge.

I realized my hands were resting against a loose rusty nail in the concrete wall.

I began to rub the plastic band against the sharp metal, ignoring the bite of the rust against my skin.