The Lair
December 4, 1.25 p.m.
A group of rats scuttled across the path and disappeared through an open drain. Harper’s small flashlight bounced from wall to wall. His nerves were wired. He was alone, but somewhere above the ground the task force was going in hard. He felt like every sense was heightened as he darted along the tunnel and reached the heavy door. He held his Glock firmly in his hand. Sebastian would be ready for him, he knew that. He kicked the door open and stood back, his gun raised, his body tense. Down the corridor was a barred door. Two bars had been removed. Harper moved towards it slowly, looking out over the barrel of his gun. The light was dim in the room. It was lit only by candlelight, but Harper could make out a figure standing on a small stool. He reached the bars and staggered back, shocked.
Denise stood in the centre of the cell, naked, bruised and bloody. There was a noose around her neck. Was this Sebastian’s final joke? To give him Denise, like this? To take something good and destroy it? Had he just killed her?
‘Denise?’ he called out, peering through the bars, looking left to right across the cell. No one else appeared to be there.
He heard a response. A muffled, low, cracked voice. He put one foot through the door and glanced left and right. No one. ‘Where is he?’
Denise shook her head. She couldn’t speak. Tom could see that Sebastian had wrapped something round her mouth. He shoved himself through the bars. The room was silent. He moved cautiously, aiming his gun, but he saw no one. The room was a simple box, and there was nowhere to hide. He moved quickly across to Denise and almost died inside looking at her. Her face was discoloured and swollen, but she was alive. That’s what mattered. Alive. He removed her gag. She was trying to speak, but her mouth was so dry couldn’t get the words out.
Tom was momentarily confused, then he looked above him. There was someone holding on to the concrete mesh that crossed the ceiling. A set of strange twisted eyes bore down on him. The moment he looked up the body fell on him, taking him to the floor.
Something heavy landed across Harper’s right shoulder, cracking bone as he hit the floor, causing the gun to fall and skid across the ground. The metal bar rose again above him. On his knees, Harper cried out. He felt the metal strike his back as the American Devil hit him again and again. His head caught a blow and blood ran down the side of his face.
Sebastian wanted pain, not death. Pain and plenty of it. He could’ve killed Tom Harper with the first blow but he wanted him to feel the pain. That was his first mistake.
Harper flicked his elbow back hard against the killer’s jaw. It was enough of a blow to make Sebastian step back. Tom turned, his fists clenched. He stamped his left foot into the ground and his punch rose from deep below his waist. His fist struck Sebastian’s jaw so hard, he felt the bones in his hand shatter. Sebastian flew off the ground and landed a few feet away. Harper moved across and leaned down to pull him to his feet. He found himself facing a long filleting knife. It touched his neck. Sebastian rose, holding the knife tight to Harper ’s skin.
‘I’m not going to kill you, Detective. I’m going to sacrifice you. You ready to be sacrificed?’
He pulled Harper’s head up by the hair and exposed his throat.
‘This the man you care for, Dr Levene? This pathetic specimen?’ He pushed Harper closer to Denise, searching for the artery with the point of the blade. He just wanted a small hole. He wanted this death to be slow. Real slow.
He smiled. He whistled. Denise felt saliva collect in her mouth.
‘You ready to taste his blood?’