Second Chances by Andrea Speed, A.B. Gayle, Jessie Blackwood, Katisha Moreish, J.J. Levesque Page A

had rather pointless decorative wood slats nailed to it, which he hated, mainly because they just made them look uglier.
    Before he could stand, he suddenly realized something: nailed to the table. Of course.
    Flynn stood and swept the lamp off the nightstand, and picked up the table and threw it hard against the far wall. It cracked, but didn’t break as it bounced down onto the floor. Flynn stomped the table, grabbing hold of the top as he kicked in the side. It finally broke like a cheap Ikea piece of crap, and just like he expected, it wasn’t just held together with glue.
    He picked out about a half dozen small wood nails from the wreckage, and returned to the door. He was able to wedge the point of the nails in the seam of the plate, but attempting to pry it off bent three nails until they were useless. Still, he was able to move it enough that he could get his fingertips beneath it, and pried up the plate.
    Beneath it was a tangle of multicolored wires, telling him it was an electronic lock. After some trial and error – and a couple burnt fingertips – he found the right wires. As soon as he crossed them, he heard as well as felt the lock retract with a hearty clunk.
    Flynn tossed the rest of the nails aside and opened the door, leaving at a run, figuring he wouldn’t have long. He had to stop almost immediately, and even then, he almost collided with Pierce, standing in the center of the hallway with a clipboard. Far beyond her, he saw the shadows of his big thug friends.
    She didn’t seem surprised to see him. In fact, she made a note of some kind on her clipboard, and said, “Frankly, I thought you’d break out sooner.”
    “Sorry to disappoint you,” he replied sarcastically, before his anger kicked in. “This was a fucking test?”
    “We know you, Mr. Archer. We knew you’d never believe we aren’t nefarious, so we thought it might be instructional to see how long it would take you to escape.”
    Flynn ran a hand through his hair, so furious he was nearly paralyzed by it. “Just tell me the fucking truth! Who the hell are you people, what do you expect of me?”
    She sighed wearily, and lowered her clipboard, holding it loosely at her side. “I have told you the truth. There are some things I can’t tell you because they’re on a need to know basis, and your security clearance is at the entry level right now.”
    Flynn glowered at her. “Oh, bra-vo. That doesn’t sound sinister at all.”
    She fixed him with a look that was slightly less chilly than he expected. “Work with us, Mr. Archer, and I promise you it will be worth your while.”
    “Ah, great, this is where you wave money in my face like I’m a hooker, right? Better be good, ‘cause I’m an expensive whore.”
    “For a couple of days, work with us. Humor us. And you will be reunited with Mr. Parker.”
    Aiden’s name made Flynn tense. He was aware the big goons were now close, but he was already making plans to get past them. Pierce was nothing. Even if she could bust out some Maggie Q martial arts moves, she was a middle-aged woman who, quite frankly, looked like she’d never wrestled anything more truculent than a shopping cart with a bad wheel. She was nothing in a battle equation except perhaps something he could use. He could shove her into the goon on the left hand side, and his move to catch her would mean he’d only have to get past the goon on the right. Difficult, but doable, as long as he was faster than that golem. He was willing to bet his life he was. “Is he here? If you’ve hurt him …”
    “Oh please, Mr. Archer, we’re not thugs. He isn’t here, but we know where he is, and we’d be happy to reunite the pair of you. But if you want to keep him safe from the mobsters currently hunting you down, it would be in both of your best interests to work with us.”
    Goddamn it! Was there a dirtier trick in the world than to throw down the Aiden card? And if she was telling the truth – big if; subway car sized