Jenna Black - Replica

Straightening his shoulders, trying not to look as spooked as he felt, Nate stepped onto the elevator.

Moselydidn’t leave Nadia alone for long. Dread weighed down her shoulders as she heard his footsteps approaching the room. She glanced at the ominous table waiting for her. She was running out of time, and Mosely hadn’t said anything incriminating yet. Not anything she could use to blackmail him into letting her go, not even anything that would help her get her posthumous revenge. She had to get him talking, and fast.

But when Mosely returned, it was clear that he was through talking.

The moment he stepped through the door, he marched toward Nadia with a purpose. Whatever purpose that was, Nadia knew she wouldn’t like it. Instinct screamed at her to flee, but of course, she couldn’t go anywhere. That didn’t stop her from trying.

Nadia leapt to her feet, but fear made her clumsy, and her feet tangled with the legs of the chair. She almost fell, but managed to right herself and kick the chair in Mosely’s direction. Like the flimsy plastic had any chance of stopping Mosely’s advance.

Mosely batted it out of his way with annoyance as Nadia moved as far away from him as the handcuffs would allow. She made a feeble effort to slip her hand through the circle of the cuff, but it was firmly secured, and even scraping a few layers of skin off wouldn’t help.

“You don’t have to do this,” she said as Mosely withdrew something from his pocket. Something that gave off a little blue spark. “I’ll tell you everything. I’ll tell you the truth, I swear it.” Surely there was some way she could salvage the situation. Some way she could make her lies more convincing. After all, the ratio of lies to truth wasn’t all that high. If she could just get Mosely to focus his questioning on the parts of her story where she could afford to tell the truth …

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that, Miss Lake,” Mosely said with what sounded almost like regret. Then he lunged forward, covering the distance between them in two quick strides, and jabbed the stunner into her belly.

A shrill scream escaped Nadia’s lips as pain ripped through her whole body and she lost control of her limbs. Her knees buckled, and she crashed to the floor. She was still cuffed to the table, so the fall wrenched her shoulder and she landed awkwardly. She tried to move, tried to at least turn so her arm was in a more natural position, but her brain’s commands to her body went unheeded.

“Nathaniel is coming to your rescue,” Mosely said as he unlocked the cuff around her wrist, letting her arm flop to the floor. He used his foot to turn her over onto her stomach, and there was nothing she could do to stop him.

Mosely squatted beside her. “There is no earthly way he could know you were here in the Fortress.”

The Fortress? But she was at Riker’s Island, not the Fortress. At least, that was what she’d thought. But of course she’d been in a van with no windows, and while Mosely had dragged her through multiple security checkpoints, she’d never seen any sign of other prisoners, or even of any cells.

“But he seems to have found you against all odds,” Mosely continued. “Which suggests that someone planted a tracker on you.” He moved her hair aside, brushing it away from the back of her neck. “Well, what do you know?” Nadia felt the scrape of a fingernail against the skin at the back of her neck. “Right where I train my people to put it.”

Nadia remembered how Dante had helped her with the wig last night. She’d had no idea how to put it on or how to keep her hair out of the way. She’d let Dante take care of everything, and he’d even helped her take the damn thing off. Apparently, he’d had an ulterior motive.

“You’ve been withholding information from me, haven’t you, Miss Lake?”

Nadia’s lips and tongue felt thick and numb, and she didn’t think Mosely was expecting an answer. He flipped her over onto her back. Nadia tried again to move, with no greater success. Mosely stood, then leaned down and hauled her limp body up over his shoulder, carrying her toward the dreaded table. And Nadia was helpless to resist, couldn’t even force herself to struggle.

Mosely dumped her on the table. He wasn’t being careful about it, so the back of her head thumped against the edge. The blow made her see stars, and she thought she was going to pass out. Not that passing out sounded like a bad idea. She’d rather not be awake for whatever was going to happen next.

“And here I thought I was going to have to arrange a convenient accident for him,” Mosely continued, somewhat out of breath from the strain of carrying her. He didn’t have that potbelly because of his physical fitness. He straightened Nadia out on the table, dragging her into its center and positioning her where the restraints could hold her.

Nadia stared up at the saws and drills and blades and vowed to herself that no matter what Mosely did to her, she would not betray Dante and the resistance. It took a massive effort, but Nadia was able to turn her head to the side so she could stare at Mosely instead of the implements that loomed over her. The motion meant that she was starting to regain control of her body, but it was too little, too late. Mosely had already fastened restraints on both her wrists and was now moving down to her ankles. She breathed as deeply as she could and mined her psyche for every drop of anger she could find. She had never before hated anyone like she hated Dirk Mosely, and she tapped into that hatred to help her chase away the fear even as Mosely fastened the restraints around her ankles.

The rush of hatred was indeed helping Nadia control her terror, and she finally absorbed what Mosely was saying: Nate was coming for her. And Mosely wanted him to come.

Mosely tugged on the ankle restraints to make sure they were secure, then came back up to the head of the table. His left hand came down on her throat, fingers digging into her jaw as he used the pressure from his palm to hold her down.

“Thank you for confirming my suspicion that Nathaniel was with you last night. And that you did indeed encounter Mr. Bishop.”

The pressure of Mosely’s fingers forced her jaws open, and Mosely crammed a foul-tasting rubber mouthpiece in. The ends of the mouthpiece went far enough back that Nadia gagged, but Mosely didn’t relent. He lifted her head and wrapped some kind of strap around the back, securing the mouthpiece in place. Tears of misery trickled down the sides of her face and into her ears as she realized she’d lost her last chance of talking her way out of this. Though she was puzzled as to how Mosely was going to get the information he wanted out of her if she couldn’t talk.

Mosely stepped back from the table and admired his handiwork. Then he shook his head. “Who knew a little girl and her playboy boyfriend would be so much damn trouble?”

The door to the interrogation room slammed open. Nadia craned to see what was happening, but Mosely was blocking her view of the door.

“Please do come in, Nathaniel,” Mosely said without turning around. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Nadia tried to shout a warning around the mouthpiece, but of course all that came out was an unintelligible grunt. Not that she thought Nate would run even if he knew he was walking into a trap. Her heart ached at the knowledge that she was at least partially responsible for the sequence of events that was leading up to Nate’s second murder.

“Let her go!” Nate said in a voice rich with authority. As if he expected Mosely to obey.

Mosely smiled, finally turning around to face Nate. As he did so, he moved to the side just enough that Nadia could see Nate, standing a few feet inside the room. She could also see that a pair of security officers were flanking the door behind him. And that both had drawn their weapons. Nadia couldn’t shout a warning, but when she caught Nate’s eye, she jerked her chin and rolled her eyes toward the guards. He glanced over his shoulder and saw them.