King unclipped the chain, wrapped it around his neck, and refastened it. With the necklace hidden beneath his shirt, he turned to Queen. “Call it in.”

Queen nodded, switched on her cell, and left the room.

“King,” Knight called from the bathroom. “Check this out.”

The bathroom looked normal until Knight stepped to the side, revealing the sink. A board had been placed atop the basin, serving as a workspace. The makeshift countertop held several small electronic components, spools of impossibly thin wires, miniature microchips, a magnifying glass, soldering tools, and pill-sized capsules. Knight picked up one of the completed devices and handed it to King.

A mixture of confusion, anger, and sadness filled King as he looked at the tiny device that perfectly matched the tracking device he’d found hidden in his pocket. His chest ached as the memory of his last good-bye with his parents returned. His mother’s firm embrace. The slow slide of her hand against his side as they separated.

His mother had bugged him.

Betrayed him.

“What do you think?” Knight asked.

It pained him to say it, but he couldn’t deny the evidence. “My parents are still Russian spies, and they almost got us killed.”

As his mind raced to put together any missing pieces, anything he’d missed, something else nagged at him. Some other unanswered question. Then he remembered. Turning to Knight, he asked, “What happened to Ridley?”

Also by Jeremy Robinson

EPILOGUE

Somewhere

THE TEN-FOOT-SQUARE CELL was empty, save for a single chair and its occupant, a prisoner, and his interrogator. The man in the chair was gagged—jaw spread wide holding a red ball gag. He was strapped to the chair around the chest and waist. There was no need to bind his arms and legs because he had neither.

His interrogator walked around him in lazy circles. “This can end whenever you want it to.”

The man’s shouted reply was muffled and distorted, but the tone was defiant.

The interrogator chuckled and jabbed a finger into the open wound where the man’s shoulder should have been.

The man wailed in horrible pain as the interrogator twisted his finger deeper into the flesh until it struck the man’s rib cage.

“Whenever you want it to end…”

A sucking pop filled the air as the finger was quickly extracted from the meat.

The man screamed again.

“You’re probably wondering how this is possible?”

The man made no reply other than his heavy breathing.