Shaw’s face was dry, but he wiped at his eyes anyway and said, “Sorry, I just—” His fingers went to his throat. “It freaked me out.”

He needed to talk about this; North could see how desperately he needed to talk. That was Shaw all over. But now wasn’t the time, now wasn’t the place.

“We’ve got to get moving,” Shaw said, his narrow face turning to the door that led back to Brueckmann’s office, then to the door on the opposite wall. He padded past North, checking the second door, and a rush of damp, April air swept past him. “A fire escape. Come on.”

North shook his head. “I want Brueckmann.”

“Then we’ll come back.”

“I want him tonight. I want him right now. No, don’t shake your head, Shaw.”

“If this is—”

“It’s not about you. If this were about you, I’d go pick up my CZ, come back here, and open up the back of Jeremy’s head.”

“Don’t say things like that.”

“This is about the fact that there’s a timeline here. Some kind of clock that’s running down, ok? Brueckmann might be an idiot, but he’s not a major idiot. When he shoved us in here, he knew it was kidnapping. It didn’t matter what cock-and-bull story he came up with about bondage and subs and—

“You know, in reality, the BDSM scene is incredibly supportive and positive, and it’s a way for people to healthily express trust and—”

“No speeches. Just listen: Brueckmann knew he was kidnapping us, and he knew he couldn’t keep us in here forever. He took that risk because something’s going on, something big. Bigger than Matty.”

“Something with Mark?”

“Mark’s name definitely got him interested. But it was the video that got his attention.”

Shaw nodded; he was doing his Shaw thing where he was deep inside his own head.

“Shaw, I need you here. Now.”

“Yeah. Here.”

“What are the odds they heard us?”

“Low; the walls are soundproofed. It’s really patchy around the door, so I could see it when we came in.”

“So we’ve got the element of surprise.”

“And that’s all we’ve got. Brueckmann has a knife. He might have a gun. And Jeremy probably does have a gun, and even if he didn’t—” Shaw rubbed his throat.

“If they’re both in there, do you think you can keep Brueckmann busy for a minute? Maybe two minutes?”

Shaw nodded; his fingers had died on his throat, marking the spot where Jeremy had asphyxiated him. But he nodded.

“Then let’s go find out why these fuckers shoved me in a dog cage.”

“Technically, you crawled in there.” North glared at him, and Shaw cocked his head in puzzlement. “Remember? You were scared they were going to kill me, and it was really sweet, so you scrambled in here and got right down on your hands and knees and—”

“Ok. Ok.” North patted the air with his hands, trying to quiet Shaw. “You’re really killing the mood.”