She stood in the doorway, a sleek silver pistol in her hand.

Behind her, the shadows of three more armed mercenaries moved into position.

My heart sank as I realized the exit was completely blocked.

Elena took a step forward, the beam of her flashlight reflecting off the wet concrete.

“Don’t even think about it,” she said, her voice dripping with amusement.

I kept my gun leveled at her chest, but my mind was racing.

“You made a mistake coming down here, Adrian,” she continued.

She reached into her pocket with her free hand.

She pulled out a small black radio and pressed the button.

A crackle of static filled the room, followed by Caleb’s voice.

“Is he dead yet, Elena?” Caleb asked.

His voice sounded tinny through the small speaker, but the arrogance in it was clear.

“Not yet,” Elena said, her eyes locked on mine.

“He’s standing right here.”

“Good,” Caleb said.

“Let him hear this.”

I kept my gun aimed at Elena’s forehead.

With my left hand, I reached down slowly toward Marcus’s ankle.