Epilogue

It's been almosteighteen hours. Pieces of the laptop litter the floor, but no matter how hard I try, I can't fix the motherboard without tools.

My legs ache, and I dig the heels of my hands into the stumps to try to quell the phantom pain. But all it does is bring tears to my eyes.

I finished the last package of crisps before the sun came up. There might be more, but if so, they're in one of the tall cabinets, and I can't reach them.

The dead man's eyes watch me as I claw my way across the floor to the window. Well, one of them does. The other…bits of it are still under my fingernails. He threw me against the wall when he realized I'd shut off the power to the facility. After he turned it back on, he kicked me so hard, two of my ribs cracked.

In his rage, he knocked over the table with the laptop. The power cord tripped him and gave me the chance to slam the computer against his face over and over again until it shattered into pieces and a shard pierced his neck.

The scent of blood hangs so thick in the air, I keep expecting drops to rain down from the ceiling.

Before the laptop screen went dark, I saw McCabe and his men fight back. They had love on their side, and my mother used to say that hate cannot win in a battle with love. I hope she was right.

I will not survive much longer. In the moments before I shut off the power, I tried to send a message to the hacker working with the Americans. One word. "Help." But with the laptop destroyed, I doubt there was enough to go on to find me. If the message was even delivered.

Abdul-Alim—Ramin's cousin—was supposed to kill me, then himself. I should have let him. I am not looking forward to starving to death. The door is locked from the outside, but even if it weren't, this building's elevator is broken. Abdul-Alim carried me up fifteen flights of stairs when he brought me here. The only other buildings close by are under construction.

The sun is high in the sky. It must be well after noon. A spider skitters across the floor. It doesn't care about me. Does it know I will be dead soon?

A quiet click draws my gaze to the door. Is the building settling? Or maybe there are rats. I hate rats.

I hear it again. Scraping. Metal on metal. I sit up a little straighter.

The door swings open, and a metal canister bounces into the room. I watch it with morbid fascination, convinced I'm hallucinating. Until a bright flash and the loudest sound I have ever heard leave me dazed.

The floor shakes. I try to scramble farther from the door, but there's nowhere else to go. My vision is nothing but two bright spots with vague shadows dancing around the edges.

"Clear!" a man shouts.

Someone grabs my hands and pins them over my head. Pure agony wraps around my torso. I can't catch my breath.

"Can you hear me?" This voice is a woman's. I blink hard to try to clear my vision.

"Y-yes. Please…" I struggle against her hold, but she's so much stronger than I am.

"Did you send the message?" she demands.

"Help." I nod. "It was all…I could do. That…and the schematics. The power."

The woman's face is starting to come into focus now. She's beautiful. Glowing, bronzed skin. Gray eyes. A shock of dark hair peeking out from her black cap. I recognize her from the files Ramin made me compile on McCabe and his team. She's a sniper.

The men behind her…I know them too.

"Who are you?" the older man asks. He's a Navy SEAL.

"Saba. Saba Safi."

"You know who we are?"

I nod. "You are West Sampson. She is Inara Ruzgani. He is Graham Peck. I gave Ramin information on all of you."

"Willingly?" Inara's icy tone terrifies me.

"N-no. They took me from my home in Sukkur. Ramin said…" I swallow my sob. "He said he would have my sister killed if I did not help him. But I could not let McCabe and his men die. I found the report on that bombing in Herat. I have proof it was not the American government. Or…had." I nod at the remnants of the laptop on the floor.

"Fuck," Sampson says. "We can't have our information…out there. You've put us all in a shit ton of danger."

Tears spring to my eyes. "I had no choice. But…Ramin hated computers. He could barely work his mobile phone. Everything I found…is on the hard drive."

Peck drops to one knee and scoops pieces of the broken laptop into a bag. "I'll get this to?—"

"Not another word," Inara says. She turns her focus back to me. "Don't move. I have to pat you down."

"I do not have any weapons. Not even a pen."

Sampson gestures to the dead man on the floor. "Did you do that?"

"Yes. He beat me when he saw I turned off the power." I gasp as Inara smooths her hands over my torso. Black spots swim before my eyes. "I think things are…broken."

Sampson takes a quick look around the apartment. "Do you have a wheelchair? Prosthetics? Anything here you care about?"

"I have nothing." It's getting harder to sit up. To breathe. To talk.

"We can get you to a doctor if you come with us—well, fuck. Scratch that," the SEAL says. "You're definitely coming with us. Because once the doc is done with you, we're going to have a hell of a lot of questions. But after that, we'll help you get back to your family. Or…anywhere else you want to go."

He taps his ear, then lowers his voice. "Leaving with the HVT. Send Superman and Jimmy to wipe this place down. They can leave the DB."

Inara straightens my headscarf, then turns her back to me. "Arms around my neck. Do your best to hang on and try not to strangle me."

"Wait," I protest. "Can you tell me…are Wren and the baby okay?"

"They're fine," Sampson says. "The whole family is doing just fine."

* * *