Claim Me

Chapter 22

22Lucas

I raise my fist, signaling for Diego and Eduardo to stop as I peer through my night vision goggles at the building in front of us. For a black site, it’s surprisingly small—just a ramshackle one-story house in a heavily wooded rural area.

“Are you sure this is the place?” Diego whispers, crouching next to me. “It doesn’t look like much.”

“I’m guessing most of it is underground,” I say, keeping my voice low. “I see two SUVs in the shed in the back, and I don’t think Ukrainian villagers drive SUVs.”

We left our own car in the woods a half-mile away to scope out the location and figure out our plan of action. Whatever we do, we need to be quick and discreet, so we can be out of the country before UUR realizes we were here. Thanks to Peter Sokolov’s contacts, we landed at a private airport undetected, and we have to be able to leave the same way.

“Go around the back and keep an eye on the place from there,” I tell Eduardo, who has come up behind Diego. “I’m going to try to hack into their computers remotely.”

He nods and disappears into the bushes, and I take out the device I brought with me. One of the benefits of working with Esguerra is having access to cutting-edge military intelligence technology—like this remote data skimmer.

Opening my laptop, I sync it with the device and tell Diego, “Good news: we’re within range. Now we just need to let the hacking program do its magic.”

It takes more than an hour to break through the firewalls, but gradually, my screen fills with all kinds of data, including blueprints of the house and a live video feed of a dimly lit hallway.

“Is that from inside their building?” Diego asks, looking over my shoulder.

“You bet,” I say, watching as two men walk past the camera. One of them looks unusually young, barely a teenager, which throws me for a moment—until I remember that UUR is in the habit of recruiting children.

I click on the next video feed and see what looks like an interrogation room. It’s empty except for a metal table and two chairs. Next, I access a camera in what must be a security room. There’s one heavily armed man sitting there in front of a row of computers. I click to the next feed, which shows yet another hallway, and several more feeds that reveal cell-like rooms. To my disappointment, all those rooms are empty.

This facility must not be heavily used.

I click through a few more camera feeds, comparing the rooms I see to the blueprints on my screen, and jot down notes on how everything is positioned. In the process, I come across two more men—one that’s built like a heavyweight wrestling champion and a leaner one who appears to be in his forties.

“Only five agents so far, and one of them is a kid,” Diego says over my shoulder. “If that’s all, we might be able to take them.”

“Right.” I click through a few more feeds, making notes on the interior of each room, and pause when I come back to one of the empty cells—or at least a cell I’d thought empty before. Now I see I was wrong: there’s a small mound on a cot covered by a blanket.

“Is that—”

“Yes, looks like they have a prisoner there,” I say, peering at the grainy feed. It’s definitely a person-sized mound; I should’ve noticed it the first time. “Hold on, let me see if I can get a clearer image.”

Activating the hacking program’s remote control feature, I isolate the portion of surveillance mechanism that controls the camera in that room. Carefully, I angle it so it’s pointed directly at the cot. The person, whoever it is, is unmoving, as if passed out or asleep.

“Okay, so six people,” Diego says, “if we count this prisoner as a threat. Pretty decent odds, especially if we catch them by surprise.”

“Yes, I think so,” I say, clicking over to the next image. Originally, I planned for us to just gather data and leave, but I can’t pass up this opportunity. It’s possible that one of these agents knows Yulia’s whereabouts. My ribs choose that moment to twinge with pain, but I ignore the dull ache.

Even with me injured, we should be able to take five or six opponents.

Turning on my earpiece, I say, “Eduardo, I need you to plant some explosives on the northwest and southwest corners of the house. Use enough to take down the walls but not destroy the whole house. We want to capture as many of them alive as we can.”

“Got it,” Eduardo replies, and I turn to glance at Diego.

“We’re going in right after the first blast,” I say. “Get ready.”

He nods, taking out his M16, and I turn my attention back to the computer. Within a minute, the hacking program takes control of the surveillance feeds outside, replacing the image of Eduardo stealthily approaching the house with a nonthreatening view of night-darkened trees and bushes.

Now we just need Eduardo to set the charges.

As we wait for that, I check all the internal video feeds again. On the hallway feed, I see one of the men walk toward the cell with the prisoner. It’s the agent who’s built like a wrestler, alone this time. With mild interest, I watch him enter the cell, place his gun in the sink on the other side of the room, and step toward the covered figure on the cot. He bends over it and, to my surprise, unzips his jeans.

What the f**k? My attention sharpens as he pulls the blanket off the figure—which I now see is female—and flips up her dress. With the way he’s standing, the camera doesn’t allow me to see much of the prisoner, yet my chest tightens with anxious premonition.

“Kent?” Diego says, but I’m not listening to him. All my attention is on the computer screen as I frantically work to angle the camera.

The man straddles the prisoner and grabs her wrists—thin, delicate wrists that look impossibly breakable in his bear-like grasp. The camera tilts, angling to the left, and I see tangled blond hair and a beautiful pale face.

My heart stops for a split second; then feral fury blasts through me.

Yulia.

She’s here—and she’s being attacked.