The Cage (Book 2)

Hamster

Hamster

We were camped out in the shell of an abandoned greenhouse.

Glass panes hung shattered above us like the bones of some forgotten beast, ribs cracked open to the sky. Ivy curled through broken steel beams, and rust-stained plant trays stood in rows like coffins. Nature had tried to reclaim the place, but the concrete beneath had fought back, and now everything sat in a stalemate of rot and growth.

Schneizel stood near what had once been a worktable, his back haloed by the pale wash of morning fog filtering through the shattered roof. He checked the burner phone again—maybe the tenth time. He didn't strike me as a man who ever looked unsettled. So the tension in his jaw told me everything I needed to know about the gravity of our situation.

Meanwhile, Aiden leaned against a moss-eaten support beam, picking at the dirt beneath his nails with practiced indifference. But his leg wouldn't stay still, bouncing in a steady rhythm that betrayed the nerves he was trying not to show.

Schneider and I sat on a crate nearby, our shoulders touching.

The silence was heavy, but not strained. We were waiting. The kind of waiting you do before a hunt.

Then the phone buzzed once and I flinched. There was no ringtone; just a sharp, metallic vibration that cut through the stillness like a trigger snapping back.

Schneizel looked down, read the message, and handed it silently to Aiden.

He read it aloud. "South of the old rail cut. Past the quarry. Built into the cliffs—used to be a church. Flooded out years ago after a dam burst. Half the floor's underwater now. No road access. Nathan moves at dusk. Light security. Bring fire."

Aiden narrowed his eyes. "Who's this information from?" he asked Schneizel.

"It's from one of the old man's people. I sent him to gather intel."

"Do you trust him?"

"He's proven reliable in the past." Schneizel said with an indecipherable shrug.

"Still could be a setup," I said.

"Could be," Schneider agreed quietly. "But we've been waiting for an opening. And Nathan won't get many safer places to show his face than a flooded ruin no one's cared about in thirty years."

Schneizel pulled a dusty map from his coat, unfolded it over the table, and jabbed a finger toward the river bend. "Here. Used to be a mission-style cathedral, pre-Civil War. Cliffside access, no clear ingress by road now. It's just trees and erosion. Nathan thinks no one will bother. That's his mistake."

I leaned in, eyes narrowing. "How do we get close without being spotted?"

"Drainage run-off leads from the quarry to the cliffs. We go in from below. He'll be expecting a frontal assault, if anything."

Footsteps crunched outside and my heart leapt to my throat in alarm.

A moment later, Cade stepped through the broken greenhouse doors, wind-cut and shadowed. Mud clung to his boots, and he carried a duffel bag slung over one shoulder. Five men flanked him—silent, armed, eyes sharp.

He dropped the duffel onto the table beside the map. "Miss me?"

"You're late," Schneizel said without looking up, but his voice held a current of relief.

"Traffic," Cade answered sarcastically.

He unzipped the bag. Inside: weapons, ammo, comms, med kits.

Aiden let out a low whistle.

"Where?" Cade asked, already reaching for the map.

"Some ruined cathedral," Schneider said, tapping the spot with two fingers. "Built into the cliffs, south of the quarry."

Cade studied it for a beat. Then he glanced at me, reached into the second pack, and pulled out a vest. "You're gonna want this."

Schneider snatched it out of the air before it reached me.

"He's not going," he said with finality, without looking my way. "Neither is Aiden."

The words landed flat. Certain.

Aiden straightened the same time I did. "Like hell we're not." We protested in unison, eyes flaring and brows furrowing.

Schneizel didn't even blink. "This is not up for discussion."

I stepped forward stubbornly, refusing to be left behind like some wife seeing her husband off to war. "We've earned the right to be there, with you."

"That's not the point," Schneider said, calm as stone. "You being there changes the risk profile. We go in clean, we move fast. I can't have you weighing on my mind, slowing me down."

The words, although logical, stung.

Aiden scoffed, short and sharp. "You think we'd be a liability?"

He was right.

"I think if you got hit, Schneizel would unravel," Schneider said, finally meeting his brother's eyes. "And if Julian got hit, I'd do the same."

Silence followed. Neither of us argued because we knew the brief argument was already won.

Schneider turned and handed the vest to Schneizel instead. "We take the crypt entrance. High ground over the sanctuary. Cade, your men fan out. Silent shots only. No alarms."

Everyone moved into action. It was the shift that came when orders were accepted and the clock started ticking.

I stood there, hands at my sides, feeling utterly useless. Aiden mirrored my stance, with an added look of disapproval that signaled his displeasure at being so easily excluded. Silently, I watched the last of the gear get packed as the men slipped into vests, armed their rifles and slipped them into holsters.

All the while, my heart pounded against my ribcage with such ferocity, I thought I might just keel over and die like a hamster.

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