But most importantly, all Sam could recall was Alex’s unconscious body, hanging from her seat in the upturned van, blood trickling from her head, before she was wrenched through the door. Sam had been pulled from the wreckage too, a black sack put over his head before a clubbing blow had knocked him unconscious. When he’d awoke, he was strapped to the very chair he sat in, the dim lighting showing him just enough to know he was far enough from civilisation that screaming for help would be redundant.

Vasquez has been questioning him on his true identity. Edinson had been rejecting his quips with his pounding fists. Despite the pain, all Sam could think of was Alex.

Vasquez, resplendent in his suit, wore the expression of a man not used to flippancy. Or a lack of fear.

‘This is not working,’ Vasquez snarled. ‘See, you actually remind me of my cousin. He’s a strong and resilient man but he used to ask…how do you hurt strong men? The same way you hurt every man.’

Right on cue, the door opened, and Sam could hear the scuffled footsteps before Alex shuffled into shot. A scrawny, tattooed man held her firmly by the hair with one hand, a gun pointed to her head with the other. Alex’s eyes were wide with fear, begging Sam for help. Her face was covered in cuts and bruises, but Sam didn’t know if they were the result of the crash, or the despicable man’s handiwork. Sam lunged against his restraints, the cable tie digging into the cast and caused his fractured wrist to throb in agony. The sharp edges of the plastic tie shaved into the cast, slicing a thin ramnant and thinning it’s bulk.

The hold loosened.

The pain increased.

Sam ignored it.

‘Let her go.’

Sam’s words carried an empty threat, drawing a smirk from Vasquez. Nonchalantly, Vasquez lit a match and cupped his hand, lifting it to his cigar before waving it into extinction. As the thick, grey smoke filled the atmosphere, he shook his matches at Sam before nodding to Edinson. A meaty right hook sent Sam back into the chair, reminding him of the hopeless situation before him.

‘You are a strong man, Mr Cooper.’ Vasquez glanced back at Alex. ‘But every man is weak when it comes to a woman. Now, tell me who you really are and what the fuck you’re doing here, or I’ll put a bullet in this bitch’s skull.’

Alex gasped in fear, shooting another terrified glance at Sam. There was no comfort he could offer her, and Sam sighed. All he’d wanted was to make good on one promise he’d made her. That was all.

Keep his word this one last time and the fight was over.

The truth of Project Hailstorm.

The downfall of Blackridge.