Chapter 42
The armored van’s reinforced doors slammed shut behind her with a mechanical clank that echoed in the silence. Sasha sat shackled in the back, her wrists bound in heavy magnetic cuffs that pinched slightly with every jostle. Her legs were chained to the steel floor beneath her. Her head rested against the cold metal wall, eyes half-lidded but alert. She could feel the hum of the engine beneath her, the subtle shifts of terrain as they crossed into remote, heavily guarded territory. The air inside the van was stale, thick with the sterile scent of reinforced rubber, oil, and sweat. Two guards in tactical gear sat across from her, rifles slung across their chests, helmets obscuring their faces. They didn’t speak. They didn’t have to. Their body language was rigid, professional, yet tense—li
- Writer
