Page 14 of Mission Shift

Our mostly empty packs went into the bin first, tucked beneath a few layers of garbage. I needed to travel as light as possible and couldn’t afford to let anything get in my way. The explosive followed, nestled deep, where no casual glance would spot it. I wiped my hands on my pants as I stepped back.

One down, one to go.

The garage door was the next target. I crouched low, planting the second device where it would cause the most damage. Timing would be everything. If I miscalculated, or if Thorin slowed me down…

I gritted my teeth.Focus. No room for mistakes.

The weight of the Glock at my hip caught my attention as I stood. I reached down and loosened the tension screw slightly—just enough to make the draw smoother—and unhooked the retention strap that was usually fastened tightly over the top. If Thorin pulled the weapon from me, he’d be able to slide it free in a single, effortless motion. I was leaving him an open door, one I could only hope he’d recognize and use. My fingers brushed the grip one last time, double-checking its position.

With that, I retraced my steps through the prison, keeping my head high and my pace unhurried. The guards continued to avoid eye contact with me. Their unease would work in my favor.As I made my way through the corridors, I filed away every detail of the building—doors, exits, and the number of guards stationed in critical areas.

The plan formed more clearly in my mind with each step I took. The explosions would draw attention away from Thorin and me, buying enough time for us to move through the chaos. But it all hinged on him seizing the opportunity. If he didn’t follow my lead, we were dead. Simple as that.

The muffled tapping of boots against the floor pulled me from my thoughts. Ahead, the corridor narrowed, leading to the cells. My fingers flexed at my sides, ready to draw my weapon if necessary. A few seconds later, the sound drifted away, and I continued on my way.

I paused outside a door I’d noted earlier was a holding room and heard a hand slam down on a table. My pulse quickened, but I ignored the rush of adrenaline, steadying myself. Whatever was on the other side, I had to be ready to react.

They’d better not have broken him already.

Thorin needed to be functional. He didn’t have to be unscathed, but he did have to be able to move—and follow.

The explosives were ticking. The next steps had to be fast and precise.

I banged on the door, drawing in a slow, deliberate breath. “This is Lieutenant Colonel Melnichenko. Open the door,” I commanded. There was a scrape of a chair inside, then hushed voices.

I’d have their balls on a platter if they dared to make me wait another—

Chapter six

The burly guard slammed the door open so violently it rattled on its hinges, his glare daring me—or anyone—to challenge his self-appointed authority. His eyes narrowed with the smug confidence of someone who believed he could intimidate anyone in this place.

I didn’t bother hiding my fury as I stormed in. I was already so fucking pissed I could’ve murdered someone, but the scene in front of me and the arrogance of the guard sent fire coursing through my veins.

The American sat slumped in a chair, one wrist encircled by a cuff, while the guard next to him gripped the other cuff firmly in his hand. Thorin’s clothes were filthy, streaked with Zelenko’s blood and who knew what else. Beside him sat a torture device—a crude, rusted contraption designed to shear off fingers withbrutal efficiency. My gaze caught the name patch on the guard next to him: Fedorov. Not but half an hour ago, I’d overheard those guards bragging about how this man was eager to torture the American. And now, here he was, seconds away from shoving Thorin’s hand into place and severing a finger—openly defying my orders.

“Stop!” I bellowed, my scream reverberating off the concrete walls.

Fedorov, who had been pulling Thorin’s hand toward the device, froze, and his head snapped toward me, gray eyes wide.

The guard who had thrown open the door took a step toward Thorin in an attempt to prevent me from getting too close. His scowl grazed over me as if he thought he could stop me.

I took one step closer to Thorin, scrutinizing Fedorov. “Have you completely lost your mind?!” I shouted.

Fedorov’s upper lip curled into a snarl. Out of nowhere, he shoved Thorin backward so hard that the chair tipped over, crashing to the floor with a loud clatter. He hit the ground hard, the impact sending him into the table leg, scattering loose items onto the floor.

“Son of a bitch!” I roared, surging forward and closing the distance between us, my jaw clamped down so hard I thought my teeth might crack. “What the fuck are you idiots doing?!” My face twisted with rage, heat flushing my skin as the words tore out of me.

I pointed at the heavyset guard, then turned my searing glare on Fedorov, my eyes narrowing with pure rage. “If you don’t back off right now, I’ll slice off your balls and feed them to you,” I said, leaning in, each syllable thick with authority. “I’m a lieutenant colonel, and if you don’t back the fuck up, I’m going demote you both to privates. Understood?”

The words landed like a slap. Fedorov’s hands shot up in a defensive gesture, his snarl replaced by a stunned expression,eyes wide. “I’m Major Fedorov, chief interrogation officer. It’s my job to ensure we get all the information we can from prisoners. We…we were just—”

I cut him off with a wave of my hand and jabbed a finger at his chest. “Sergeant Major Taranov ordered you not to touch the prisoner! This American is mine!”

God, how could these soldiers defy their orders so brazenly?

I advanced on them, forcing both men to back away from Thorin, who was now pulling himself upright. “You’re both complete morons! Do you want to be sent to Siberia?! Putin’s gulag will be fun for you if you keep ignoring orders!”

They blanched, exchanging worried looks, their eyes darting around frantically. Good. Fear was an excellent motivator.

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