I kicked the pantry door open.

The wood hit the wall with a loud bang.

A tall man in a grey suit turned toward me, his hand reaching inside his jacket.

Nora was tied to a wooden chair, her face bruised and bleeding.

Behind her, another mercenary was raising his pistol.

I fired twice.

The first bullet hit the mercenary in the chest.

He fell backward into a shelf of canned goods.

The cans came crashing down around him.

The man in the grey suit froze.

His hand remained inside his jacket.

“Adrian,” he said, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“I wondered when you would show up.”

“Hands where I can see them,” I said.

He slowly withdrew his hand.

He was holding a small silver pen.

“You are a very difficult woman to find,” he said.

“This is my house,” I said.

“You are trespassing.”

“Your house is surrounded,” he said.

“Your guards are dead or captured.”

“Not all of them,” I said.

“The cellar team is gone.”

His smile faded slightly.

“You disarmed the device,” he said.

“Caleb was always a fool.”