The Surrogate He Discarded

Kristoff remains hidden behind the pillar, studying the kidnapper’s routine.

One kidnapper was restless, constantly checking his phone. The other stood closest to the door, occasionally peeking inside.

He waited. Patience has always been his greatest weapon.

Finally, the younger kidnapper headed downstairs, while the other one went inside. And soon, the masked man went out of the room, along with the one who went inside.

The instant they disappeared around the landing, Kristoff slipped inside the room before they could return.

...

The room was almost bare.

A single naked bulb swayed gently from the ceiling, casting a weak yellow glow that left the corners shrouded in shadow. A rickety wooden table stood against one wall, beside a battered chair with one uneven leg. The stale air carried the scent of damp concrete, rust, and old dust.

Curled on the cold floor in the far corner, Isobel looked small, her eyes closed.

A dull ache throbbed through her head.

The masked man bound her wrists tightly behind her back before leaving. The coarse rope rubbed her skin raw from her desperate attempts to free herself. Dried blood matted the hair near her temple where she’d been struck.

The soft click of the doorknob turning drew her attention.

She looked up.

She blinked several times, struggling to focus on the man who slipped quietly into the room.

At first, all she saw was the dark jacket and cap.

Then he lifted his face just enough for the dim light to reveal familiar deep brown eyes.

Her heart skipped.

”Kris—”

Kristoff immediately pressed a finger to his lips.

”Quiet.”

The warning was barely more than a whisper.

Isobel swallowed the rest of his name, though relief flooded her eyes.

Kristoff crossed the room in quick, silent strides and crouched beside her. His fingers had just reached for the knife concealed inside his sleeve when instinct made him pause.

Something wasn’t right.

He rose and eased the door open a fraction, peering through the narrow gap.

He heard footsteps. A few pairs.

They were coming this way.

His eyes sharpened.

Without a second’s hesitation, he slipped behind a thick concrete pillar near the entrance, disappearing into the shadows just as the footsteps stopped outside.

The doorknob turned.

The door creaked open.

The masked man strode inside, his boots echoing across the empty room.

Isobel’s pulse quickened, but she forced herself to remain calm.

If she looked toward Kristoff, she’d give away his hiding place.

Instead, she fixed her gaze on the masked man who held up his hand to show her cell phone and watch.

”Looking for this?”

Isobel’s heart sank.

”What do you want?,” she said, her voice hoarse but steady. She told her kidnappers that she can pay a lot more.

The man let out a low, humorless chuckle.

He ignored the bait and continued toward her.

Before Isobel could think of another question, more footsteps echoed from the hallway.

The masked man hadn’t come alone.

One by one, three more armed men entered the room, crowding the small space.

Hidden behind the pillar, Kristoff’s jaw tightened.

His chance to spirit Isobel away had vanished.

Now he would have to wait for another opportunity.

If one ever came.

...

Suddenly, the sharp crack of gunfire echoed from the ground floor.

The masked man snapped toward the door.

”Go check it out.”

The kidnappers exchanged quick glances before rushing out of the room. Their boots thundered down the staircase, leaving only the masked man behind.

Hidden in the shadows, Kristoff waited.

The door clicked shut.

Now they were alone.

The masked man had barely taken another step when Kristoff lunged from behind the pillar. His forearm locked around the man’s neck, cutting off his air, while his other hand pinned the man’s arm against his body.

The masked man struggled violently, throwing his weight backward in an attempt to break free. His elbow slammed into Kristoff’s ribs, forcing him to loosen his grip for the briefest moment.

It was enough.

The masked man twisted free, yanked a pistol from beneath his jacket, and aimed it at Kristoff.

”Kristoff, watch out!” Isobel cried.

Kristoff reacted instantly.

He drove a hard punch into the man’s jaw.

The pistol flew from his hand and skidded across the concrete floor.

The masked man dove after it.

Kristoff was faster.

He snatched up the wooden chair beside the table and swung it with all his strength.

The chair exploded against the man’s shoulder.

With a cry of pain, the masked man’s finger tightened on the trigger.

Bang!

The shot thundered through the room.

The bullet buried itself in the ceiling, showering the floor with dust and fragments of concrete.

Before the masked man could recover, Kristoff tackled him to the ground. The two men grappled violently, trading blows until Kristoff finally drove his fist into the man’s temple.

The masked man went limp followed by a heavy silence, broken by Kristoff’s panting.

Downstairs, however, the gunshot changed everything.

The warehouse erupted into chaos.

”What was that?” someone shouted.

”It came from upstairs!”

Another voice barked a command.

”Secure the hostage! Search every room!”

Kristoff’s expression hardened.

Stealth was no longer an option.

He hurried to Isobel’s side and sliced through the ropes binding her wrists and ankles.

As circulation returned to her hands, she winced and rubbed the angry red marks left by the coarse rope.

Kristoff retrieved the fallen pistol, checked the magazine, and handed it to her.

Isobel stared at the weapon with wide eyes.

”I... I don’t know how to use a gun.”

”You don’t have to.”

He pointed toward the door.

”If anyone comes through that door before I tell you to run, aim it at them. You don’t have to shoot unless you have no other choice.”

Isobel swallowed hard but nodded, gripping the pistol with trembling hands.

Meanwhile, Kristoff scanned the room for another way out.

Going back through the staircase was no longer an option.

His gaze settled on a narrow window at the far end of the room.

Beyond the cracked glass, an old iron fire escape clung to the side of the warehouse.

A risky escape.

But it was their only chance.