Page 58 of Break For Me
"Rocco is in the main warehouse. Building C. The thermal signature is consistent with a single individual in a confined space—a shipping container or a storage room."
A shipping container. They have Rocco in a box.
The image hits me with a specificity that bypasses the clinical wall. The dark. The cold. The compressed space. A man who fills doorways and dwarfs cots locked in a steel cage. My hands close into fists at my sides.
Alessandro studies the screen. His expression is unchanged—the flat, analytical gaze that runs in the family.
"Options," he says.
"Frontal assault is suicide," Rory says immediately. "Twelve to fifteen operators, fortified positions, open ground between the fence and the buildings. We’d lose half our team before we reached the warehouse." He pulls up a second image—an architectural schematic. "Covert insertion through the drainage system is possible but slow. Forty-five minutes minimum through the outflow tunnels. That’s forty-five minutes where they have time to execute Rocco and relocate before we reach his position."
"They won't execute him," I say.
Both heads turn toward me. I am standing at the edge of the desk, uninvited, unranked. A civilian in a room full of military thinking. My hands are still fisted at my sides.
"Rocco is leverage," I say. "They took him because they want me. Dmitri Volkov made that clear—my value to Kazimir is in my skills, not my compliance. As long as they believe I can be recovered, Rocco stays alive. The moment they believe recovery is impossible, they kill him and cut their losses."
Alessandro’s eyes narrow. "What are you proposing?"
"I’m proposing that you stop trying to break through the front door and let me walk through it."
The silence in the study is absolute. Rory’s leg stops bouncing. Alessandro’s hands press harder against the desk.
"I’m the asset they want," I continue. "I go to the gate. I surrender. They take me inside because my willing return is thescenario Kazimir has been engineering since the night Rocco pulled me out of my apartment. Once I’m inside, I locate Rocco. I confirm his position. And your team breaches while every guard on the perimeter is focused on processing me."
"You’d be inside with no weapon and no extraction plan," Alessandro says.
"I’d be inside with the one thing they won't take from me—my hands. They need me functional. They won't damage me. They’ll put me in a room, and the room will be close to Rocco because the entire point of this exercise is to demonstrate that they’ve recaptured their property and punished the people who stole it."
Alessandro leans back. His chair creaks. His fingers interlace on the desk—a gesture I recognize because Rocco described it. The Don’s posture when he’s weighing a decision that costs other people their lives.
"The risk to you is unacceptable."
"The risk to Rocco if we do nothing is certain."
"You’re a surgeon, Dr. Sterling. Not an operative."
"I’ve been an operative for the last two weeks," I say. My voice rises. "I’ve performed surgery on a door. I’ve survived an explosion. I’ve dragged your husband two miles through the snow. I’ve shot at men who were trying to kill me. My curriculum vitae has expanded."
Rory makes a sound. It might be a laugh. He covers it with his hand. Alessandro doesn't look at him.
"It’s the only way to get close without triggering an execution order," Rory says. The levity is gone. His green eyes are steady, the manic energy compressed into focus. "If we breach hard, they kill Rocco before we clear the fence. If Adrian walks in, they open the door. We follow the door."
Alessandro is quiet for a long time. His gaze moves from Rory to me to the satellite image on the screen. The thermalsignature in Building C—the single orange glow in a cold blue field. His brother.
"You understand what you’re walking into," he says.
"I’ve been walking into it since the night your brother broke my door down."
He nods. One motion. Decisive. Final.
"Rory. Wire him. I want audio and GPS, live feed to the command vehicle. Dr. Sterling goes in at the main gate. The breach team goes through the drainage system—start the clock when Adrian crosses the perimeter. You have forty-five minutes to reach Building C."
Rory stands. The energy is back—focused now, channeled. He moves to a case on the floor and opens it. Electronics. Transmitters. A GPS beacon the size of a shirt button.
"Come with me, Doctor." Rory’s mouth quirks. "Let’s get you dressed."
The suit is Alessandro’s.
