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CHAPTER 10

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Still blinded by the sack over her head, Sarah twisted her body around when the sliding door whisked closed behind them. Mildly startled, she wanted to kick herself. She should have known it was a door opening when the hydraulics hissed a moment ago. After the air hissed a second time, a rhythmic chime pinged like someone drumming a xylophone. Sarah considered the sound as it played out. The pings rose in pitch, reminding her of an elevator door at the Next Gen building, which confirmed her mounting suspicions. She had visited the corporation once with the admiral and Wolf, before Arcturus. Next Gen supplied the robots that assisted with the assembly of the space station. This site probably wasn't under the actual skyscraper near Times Square, but it could be connected to it by underground tunnels.

The web of interconnected accomplices grew more complex in Sarah's mind.

Guided by Wolf, Sarah's feet scuffed across the dark rubber floor. She was unsure of where her next step would take her since the bag limited her vision beyond her immediate surroundings. If her hands weren't bound behind her back, she'd use her fingertips to feel for walls on each side, which would reveal whether they were traversing a long hallway or an open room. Even that limited information would help build a picture in her mind of what she was dealing with.

They walked twenty paces where another door opened to the right with a hiss, and they entered a side room. It was driving her crazy. Where was she?

Sarah exhaled and sighed. The journey with the bag over her head brought back vivid memories from over sixty years ago of the day when Jake and his close friend, Tony Cruze, were taken away to die at the hands of an assassin, and she was taken separately aboard an ice breaker ship to be held captive. Her then future husband and his friend escaped that day, and so did Sarah eventually, but not before she was injected with the serum that started her path down the dark road to immortality.

"There's a chair behind you," Wolf said. "You can sit."

When she failed to move, his hands wrapped around the soft bends of her arms. She flinched from the way his fingers glided over her sensitive skin, chill bumps rushing across her forearms. Then the back of her knees bumped the edge of the seat, and Wolf nudged her into the chair.

"It wasn't a suggestion," he said.

Beneath her feet, the floor vibrated momentarily, and she detected a slight feeling of movement. Seconds ticked by and then the sensation all but disappeared. They were on a transportation vehicle of some kind, but Sarah was surprised by how smooth it operated.

To her right, inches from her ear, something zipped like a flexible material rushing over metal. A moment later, Wolf stood behind her, running a strap between her wrists, over her bonds, tugging the strip of material tighter, fastening her to the back of the chair with a final jerk and latch.

"You didn't have to be so rough," Sarah said.

"Sorry. I just have to make sure you won't go anywhere."

Wolf ripped the sack off her head.

Out of reflex, Sarah wrenched away. She twisted and pulled in an attempt to free her arms. But it was to no avail. Even worse, her wrists stung the more she struggled, a flat wire of some kind digging into her skin.

Wolf's dimpled chin greeted her with a testy grin. He was seated in a chair across from her. His nose appeared red and swollen, possibly broken, but it didn't seem to bother him much. Sarah lurched in his direction with the intent to strike out at him, but she was held in place like a dog on a chain.

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