Free The Collected (A Jonathan Quinn Novel) by Brett Battles Page B

time, when he scanned the room, he kept his movements slow to prevent another attack. He was in a space that couldn’t have been more than ten feet square, enclosed by stone walls broken only by the single door. No windows, he realized, and no drain in the floor. Which meant this wasn’t the same room he’d been in when he met the bald man.
    He turned his attention to the metal chair he was sitting in, and quickly discovered that it was attached firmly to the concrete floor. Straps across his chest and lap held him in place. In addition, cuffs around his ankles were connected to the chair’s legs.
    Apparently, his captors hadn’t realized that his lower right leg was artificial. Of course, without patting down the area where it met his stub or taking his pants off entirely, there was no reason why they would. The limb was wrapped with a synthetic exterior that created the look and feel of a real leg.
    Missing this detail was a mistake he hoped they didn’t rectify. His leg was more than just a means of helping him get around. If he could get to the secret compartment in the calf area, then he might have a chance.
    The other partially good news was that even though his wrists were still cuffed together, they were now on his lap instead of behind his back. More comfortable, and easier to use if the chance arose.
    He leaned his head back and tried to recall the last thing he clearly remembered.
    Quinn , he thought. The bald man had called me Quinn.
    From the aches and pains he felt, he could tell he’d taken a beating, but as for more memories, he was a blank.
    No. Wait .
    He closed his eyes. There was more. A burst of sound…and…and… vibrations . A jolt, too. What the hell had that been?
    Moved. Yes, that had to be it. I was moved.
    It was the method used he was having a hard time identifying. It had been distinctive, he was sure about that, something he should have been able to identify, but the answer remained elusive.
    Pieces, that’s all he had to figure out what was going on. The run for the border. The police who hadn’t taken him to an official jail. The bald man. The noises. The vibrations.
    And then there was the job itself.
    Unfortunately, the pieces that bound everything together were still missing, and he wasn’t going to figure anything out just sitting there.
    He refocused his mind.
    Priorities.
    Number one: Get free.
    Number two: If possible, find out what is going on, but not at the sacrifice of the first goal.
    Number three: Once free, find that bastard Burke.
    What he’d do with that asshole once he had him was something he could figure out later. At the moment, the thought of ripping Burke apart limb by limb was pretty damn appealing.
    The door opened again, and the big blond man with the stupid grin reentered. Only he wasn’t alone. Coming in right behind him was the bald man.
    I guess it’s time to play .
    The big guy was carrying another bucket of water. He set in on the floor as the bald man closed the door. The two of them then stepped in front of Nate.
    “Have a good rest?” the bald man asked.
    The less said, the better, Nate knew, so he didn’t answer.
    “You were out for quite some time.”
    Nate kept his expression blank.
    The man looked at his watch. “Unfortunately, I am unable to chat right now, but I just wanted to say that I’m glad to see you’re up, and if you need anything, don’t be afraid to ask Janus, here.” He gestured to the other man. “You and I will talk later, Mr. Quinn.”
    He dipped his head an inch, in what amounted to a farewell bow, and left the room. Janus stayed.
    “Brought you more water,” the man said, picking up the bucket. “Thought you might be thirsty.”
    He tossed the contents at Nate.
    This time the water was freezing and filled with bits and pieces of ice that pelted Nate in the face and shoulders. Nate turned his head just in time to avoid a chunk stabbing him in the eye.
    Janus laughed loud and deep, almost doubling over as he did.