Текст книги "Wrath"
Автор книги: Laurann Dohner
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Wrath
Laurann Dohner
Prologue
919 tensed, watching the other males in the room with a mixture of awe and trepidation. His future rested in two of those males’ hands. Justice North sat calmly behind his desk while Brass paced in front of it. Brass paused.
“They are new to freedom and I don’t trust them yet. It is too dangerous to have them leave the NSO.”
Justice’s mouth flattened into a grim line and his gaze fixed on the only human in the room. Tim Oberto sat in a chair near the corner. He seemed angry, the way his features were slightly reddened and his fists were clenched along the arms of the chair.
“I want to pick men for this joint venture, Justice.” He glanced at 919, the male next to him, and finally the third male standing before him. “My men haven’t trained with these men and they don’t even have names. Let me meet with some of your officers and choose from them.”
Anger stirred in 919 at the insult but he fought back a snarl. Who did the human think he was to doubt his word or his commitment? He stepped forward to stare at Justice and waited for the male to address him.
“What is it, 919?”
“This is important to us. There is no denying we are newly released. We haven’t made strong bonds yet that would prevent us from putting our lives at risk.” He glanced at the male at his side. “358 and I are close. We come from the same place and have the same experiences.” Nightmares. He didn’t say that word aloud, fearful it would make the other males worry about his motivation. He stared deeply into Justice’s eyes. “You already have the name that I would have chosen. I want justice for our people and I am willing to risk my life to track down the humans who have harmed our people. We realize that some humans are good while the ones who worked for Mercile are not. We’ve seen their faces and can identify them. I am calm. I can handle this assignment.”
358 stepped closer to him. “We will watch out for each other. We’ll do the NSO proud. We wish to work closely with the task force.”
Justice leaned forward in his chair, studied both of them intently, and focused on 919. “Why?”
919 hesitated. “I don’t understand your question.”
“Why is this so important to you? You should be enjoying your freedom. You could make friends, flirt with our females, yet you want to put your lives in danger. Why?”
He said nothing, unsure the truth would get him what he wanted, which was to be assigned to the task force.
“I asked you a question. Answer it.”
919 glanced at the human, Tim Oberto, and then back to Justice.
“He’s a trusted friend. Speak freely,” Justice urged. “There is nothing you could say that would shock him. He knows what has been done to us.”
“I spent too much time alone and I’m uncomfortable around large groups of people. I also have no desire to flirt with females.” Anger burned but he managed to suppress it. “After what was done to me, I worry about being intimate with one. The task force is all male. The three of us will live together and I want to track down the ones who hurt us. I don’t sleep well knowing they are out there and that more of our kind may be suffering what we endured.”
The New Species leader didn’t look horrified at his answer when he relaxed in his chair. “How are you doing on managing your anger? Would you tear apart the enemy if you came into contact with someone who hurt you?”
“No. I admit I would be happy to capture them but I want them alive and well to spend many years suffering behind locked doors. That is the best punishment.” He believed that. He hoped it showed in his eyes and the truth sounded in his voice.
Justice glanced at 358. “What about you? Speak the truth.”
“I’m damaged as well, my social skills aren’t great, but I manage my anger by taking it out on punching bags. I also want any humans we capture to suffer confinement but not death.” He paused. “I go where he goes. We’ve been together for a long time and he’s the one thing I care about. We are brothers.”
The human’s eyes widened. “They are biological brothers? They don’t look anything alike besides being mixed with canine. Is that the blood connection because it sure doesn’t appear to be from the human traits?”
“It’s emotional,” Brass stated. “They have bonded as brothers due to their long-term association. They have kept each other strong and they should remain together to help stabilize them.”
“What about you?” Justice addressed 922. “You are from a different facility than they came from.”
Tim frowned. “919 and 922 are from different testing facilities? Are you sure? They are just a few numbers apart.”
Fury leaned against a wall across the room. “That doesn’t matter. There was one genetic scientist who created us, according to what we’ve learned from the Mercile employees we interviewed. We were all born in the same location but sent to other testing facilities after birth. Our numbers have no relation to where we were sent.”
Justice addressed 922. “Why do you wish to be part of the team?”
The male hesitated too, probably trying to form his words carefully before he spoke. “Mercile gave me a mate but murdered her. I don’t sleep well nights. I’m not social either and I want to track down the humans who hurt our kind to make them pay. I feel useless here but this will give me a purpose.” He growled the last words. “I have no reason to exist any longer and I need one.”
Justice frowned but stared at Tim. “I understand why you are concerned but most of my people don’t want to go into your world to live there. We’ve all agreed though that it’s an advantage to have some of our males join your team. They can identify some of the Mercile employees, they have enhanced senses, and it would benefit us all to have this joint venture succeed. It’s also highly dangerous to send them into the out world despite the precautions we’ve agreed upon, like having them live inside the basement of the task force headquarters. I toured the place and it is too similar to the cells we were kept in. Many Species would have an issue with that after living away from that environment for this long but these three are volunteering, knowing the living conditions.” He paused. “No others have.”
“We could order them to,” Fury admitted. “We just don’t wish to do that.”
Justice nodded in agreement. “We don’t want to do that. They were given their freedom and we refuse to ask them to sacrifice it. These three are new enough to avoid being traumatized by the tight living spaces. We understand your concern and I agree.” His gaze slid to Brass.
Brass took a deep breath. “I will come with them. I’m not mated.” He glanced at Fury and Justice before staring at Tim. “I have been free for quite a while. I’ve trained with some of your team and they trust me. I’ll take charge of these three and they will be my responsibility. I will have them picked up if I see any signs of them becoming unstable.”
Tim nodded. “Agreed. Okay.” He glanced at 919, 922, and 358. “They need to fit in with my teams though. The long hair has to go, they’ll need to wear sunglasses to hide their eyes and it might distract people from noticing their features as much. I insist on assigning at least one member of the team to be on duty upstairs every evening. Your men can’t drive and they don’t do anything without my permission.”
“That’s fine about assigning someone to be on duty to drive for them.” Justice picked up a pen on the desk.
“Wait,” Brass growled. “I’m willing to do a lot to help his mission succeed but I’m not cutting my hair.”
Justice glanced up at him and grinned. “I forgot. Sorry.” He stared at Tim and shrugged. “He’s got a thing about keeping his hair long. They used to shave all of it off while in captivity and he’s got scarring he wishes to never see again. He will braid it back.”
“He needs to fit in.” Tim shook his head. “That won’t work.”
“He can wear a cap. I’ve seen some of the males on your team do that.” Anger narrowed Justice’s eyes and his features hardened. “You take orders from me and that is how it will be.”
919 noticed the human backed down immediately but he didn’t appear happy about it.
“Fine. He can wear a cap but the other ones get haircuts.”
“I saw one of your males outside and he is shaved bald. I will agree to that,” 358 said as he reached up and fingered his hair. “I won’t miss it.”
“Short is good enough but whatever you decide is fine.” Tim Oberto frowned at Justice. “They need names.”
Justice glanced at 922. “Pick one.”
“Vengeance. I want it for my female.”
“Fuck,” Tim grumbled.
Justice glanced at Brass, then Fury, and back at 922. “Vengeance it is. Just keep a tight leash on your temper or you’ll be sent back here.”
“Understood.”
Justice glanced at 358. “Do you have a name in mind?”
He shrugged. “I like Elvis movies.”
Justice grinned. “I like them too but it’s too obvious. I doubt the humans will let that one pass without teasing you. Any second choice?”
“I like the name Shadow. I like to stand still and watch others.”
Brass nodded. “Good name.”
Justice turned his attention on the third male.
919 tensed, put on the spot, and had no idea what to name himself. “May I think about it?”
“I’ve got paperwork to do.” Tim stood from his chair. “I need a name.”
919 stared at 358, his friend who’d just chosen a name. Shadow met and held his gaze. They knew each other well after having spent years in cells close together and both had suffered the same damage.
Shadow finally spoke, never looking away from him. “He should take the name Wrath. He allowed his anger to simmer, relied on his intelligence, but he made them pay when the opportunity presented. The humans always knew he’d eventually get even after they abused us or at least the smart ones did.”
919 felt pride surge and he nodded. “It is a good name.” He glanced at Justice and Brass to see their reactions.
“Just make sure you keep hold of your temper.” Justice scribbled on a folder lying on his desk and passed it to Tim. “Here you go. Here’s information on all four of your new team members. Make sure they are protected but don’t baby them. You wanted them for their skills and strengths. Allow them to use them.” He stared at Brass for long seconds. “You’re in charge of our males. Tim takes orders from you. You can take control of any situation if you deem it necessary.”
“Damn it,” Tim spat. “Now wait a damn min—”
Justice snarled, flashed sharp teeth and shocked everyone in the room except Brass and Fury with his show of temper. Tim backed up enough to almost trip on the chair he’d just vacated and sealed his lips together.
“You work for us. Brass is a seasoned officer of the NSO, I know him well and he has my complete trust. He’s not newly free or unstable. He’s highly intelligent and it’s a joint operation.” He relaxed slightly. “That means your team and ours will work together but Brass is in total charge of my males. Understood?”
“Yeah.” Tim still looked angry. “I got it.”
“Good.” Justice met and held the gazes of the four men who were leaving the NSO. “Be safe and you take your orders from Brass as if I were speaking. Understood?”
“Yes,” they agreed in unison.
Wrath turned and left the office. His friend followed closely behind until they were outside. They both paused, waiting for further orders.
“Shadow is a good name.”
“So is Wrath.” His friend grinned. “I knew you’d pick something kinder but you have strength and a strong sense of justice. It is too bad that name was already taken.”
“Wrath suits my purpose. We’ll find the humans who hurt our people and bring them in to pay for their crimes.”
A scent drew their attention as a female Species neared the office. She smiled and her gaze wandered over Wrath from head to foot. She paused next to him, peered into his eyes and softly purred.
“Hello.”
He didn’t know what to say but Shadow came to his rescue. “We’re leaving with the human task force. We don’t have time to socialize.”
The female’s smile faded. “Good luck. You both are very brave.” She walked inside the building.
Wrath relaxed and met Shadow’s eyes. “I’m glad there won’t be females where we’re going.”
Shadow nodded. “They are drawn to your looks and strength.”
“I need more time to heal before I even consider sharing sex with one of them. I’ll be happy to be away from here for a while.”
His friend reached out and gripped his shoulder. “We share that in common.”
Both of them remembered being drugged while hooked to machines and the horror of their seed being forced from their bodies. Wrath shivered from the vile memories and the uncertainty of what had been done to the sperm taken from them. Some of it had been sold and shipped to other countries, where scientists planned to use human female surrogates to birth human/Species hybrids to be sold to the rich as exotic pets. The thought of them succeeding made rage burn inside his soul.
Shadow’s eyes narrowed as they stared at each other. “We’ll capture the ones who hurt our kind and bring them to justice. You are thinking about what I do so often but you heard what the NSO doctors said. They are doubtful any children were produced from our stolen seed. The drugs used on us damage the sperm and nature has a way of only making it viable when we are highly aroused. They are pretty certain it only seems to survive inside a living female when we put it there. They said they would have heard about any babies put up for sale on the black market, even if it is in Europe.”
Wrath relaxed, comforted by the words. “We’ll make all of them pay for what they’ve done to our kind.”
“Yes, we will.” Shadow released him.
Chapter One
“You aren’t really going to eat that, are you?” Lauren curled her lip, staring with horrified fascination at what sat on her friend’s plate. “It looks like someone slaughtered a salad with all that green and red.”
Her best friend, Amanda, laughed. “It’s the latest diet trend. It looks like hell but I’m supposed to lose twenty pounds a month if I eat this every day.”
Lauren pushed a stray lock of blonde hair behind one ear. “I’d lose that much too if I had to try to choke that crap down. I wouldn’t eat.” She sighed. “I know all about diets and I think I’ve tried them all. Trust me, that isn’t going to work. The only way I can lose a few pounds is by downing water and exercising until I can’t breathe.”
“You only need to drop thirty pounds.” Amanda pouted. “I need to lose twice that much. This spinach salad and hot sauce thing is supposed to work. I want to have a shape again.”
“You and I both have that already.” Lauren winked. “Round is a shape. Look, I am tired of being unhappy because my butt doesn’t fit into the same jeans I wore when I was fourteen and I’ve got love handles. I enjoy eating and detest starving. It sucks being hungry all the time. Those diets just made me miserable, hungry, and depressed.” She pointed at the burger on her plate and used her other hand to push it closer to her friend. “Take a bite. You know you really want to. Eat a fry. Live a little and save yourself from misery. You’ll enjoy my food way more than yours.”
“I haven’t had anyone ask me out in two months, Lauren. Two whole months. You’ve got big boobs, the long hair, and pretty blue eyes going for you. And you’re short. You are cute to men even with the excess weight.”
“Yeah. Men are just breaking down my door.” She snorted. “I just must not be home when they do it. No one is still there when I get off work. They have to be skilled carpenters too because they are amazing at fixing any damage they did to get in.”
“That one man asked you out last week and he was cute.”
“Cute? He reminded me of a puppet with his frizzy red hair and the unibrow.”
“At least you got asked out by someone.” Amanda sighed. “I’d love a puppet type myself. You could have so taken him home to keep. I bet he’s into cuddling.”
Lauren shook her head in disgust. “Imagine doing someone who reminded you of a childhood cartoon. Give me a break. I didn’t want to keep him or take him home. He was kind of weird besides. He has a real freaky thing going on with his mother. She called me five times to tell me her son was a nice man I should date. I was afraid they’d invite me to dinner and it would be located next to some remote house on a hill that stood beside a creepy motel.”
“Funny.” Amanda hesitated before she popped a French fry into her mouth. “He was cute though, in that movie. Too bad he was a knife-wielding murderer. I mean, come on. Stab the naked girl in the shower or try to do her?” She rolled her eyes. “What a waste.”
“I worry about you,” Lauren commented, smiling to soften her words.
Brown eyes twinkled with amusement. “I wouldn’t mind a psycho if he was into stabbing me in a sexy way with a big body part.”
“You’re sick.” Lauren laughed. “You—”
Her phone rang. She groaned and reached for her purse under her chair. One glance at her caller ID made her wince. “Lauren here. What’s up, Mel?”
Lauren listened to her boss and closed her eyes. “Tonight? Why can’t someone else—” She paused. “But I’m in the middle of dinner with my friend. I can’t possibly—” She shut up and gritted her teeth. “But can’t you go instead because—” She was getting angry. “Fine. Right. I’ll go. Fine. Bye.” She hung up. Lauren shoved her phone back inside her purse and stood, giving her friend a regretful look. “I have to go.”
“Seriously?” Amanda’s smile faded. “Now? What did your bitch boss want?”
Lauren slapped a ten-dollar bill on the table and grabbed her coat off the back of the chair. “It seems one of the agents had an emergency. I have to show a building in the Industrial Park area right away. Some big fish is out there wanting to see it tonight. She told me it’s so important that I’m fired if I don’t go. She can’t meet him because of her plans. I guess mine don’t mean squat. God, I hate that witch.”
“Damn. Well, go. Maybe you’ll sell it and we can take a trip somewhere nice, on you. I’ve always wanted to go to Jamaica.”
“Yeah. With my luck he’s just some guy who was bored, with nothing to do on a Friday night, and decided to spin my wheels. I’ll call you tomorrow. Are we still on for seeing a movie?”
“Yeah. Good luck. Break a real estate sign.” Amanda ate another fry.
“Cute.” Lauren waved and headed toward her car.
* * * * *
Lauren glanced at her GPS navigator for the fifth time ten minutes later and cursed as she looked around at the empty streets. She had a bad feeling about showing a property after hours. The Industrial Park was virtually abandoned since most businesses had closed for the night or were just warehouses. She was a single woman going to meet a strange man in an unfamiliar area at night. She took a turn when the computerized voice ordered her to.
An expensive red sports car was parked in the otherwise empty parking lot when Lauren stopped her car next to it. She hesitated before climbing out. Every bit of common sense told her to flee. It screamed “bad idea” but she’d lose her job if she didn’t get her ass inside there and show the thing. Her fingers gripped her keys and her thumb hit the door-lock button.
The building was a huge one-story, similar to dozens of others on the block and the old business sign declared it had been some shipping company she wasn’t familiar with. Her high heels clicked loudly on the pavement as she approached the double doors. The key box sat on the ground, open. She bit her lip.
Only realtors had the combination to open them to get the keys but someone had obviously given it to Mr. Herbert. It made her dislike her coworker even more. The jerk who was supposed to show the property had obviously betrayed the seller’s trust. It was a huge no-no. They used the same combination on all the properties they represented, including homes that people still lived in. If Mr. Herbert was a pervert or a thief, he now had access to a lot of properties. She silently swore to have a talk with their boss about it.
The doors were unlocked when she tested them and one side easily opened. It wasn’t a mystery anymore where the prospective client had gone. He hadn’t waited until she arrived to go on a tour but had already entered the warehouse. She stepped inside, glanced around the barren reception area, and cleared her throat.
“Hello?” she called loudly. She peered at a dim corridor. “Mr. Herbert?”
She stepped into the darkness and turned her head to search for the light switch. The outside lights in the parking area didn’t extend far into this section of the building. Relief was instant when she found it and she could see the room. Mr. Herbert wasn’t there but the double doors to the hallway leading to what appeared to be offices were wide open.
“Mr. Herbert?” She yelled the man’s name louder.
No response.
“Damn. I don’t like this,” she whispered.
It went against the grain to meet a stranger in an empty building. She wasn’t stupid. Mr. Herbert could be a rapist or a killer. It was her job to meet clients and lead them through empty properties. The commission on this baby though…
That prospect propelled her closer to the dark hallway to hunt for another panel of switches. The lights in the hallway flickered and stayed on when she found it. Her gaze traveled the long length of open office doors on both sides and it seemed to end at the warehouse part of the building, judging by the massive double doors. Where the hell is this guy?
“Mr. Herbert?”
She stepped into the hallway with dread pitting her stomach. One by one she paused in open doorways and searched the empty dark offices with a sweeping glance. The feeling of something being wrong only intensified. She’d have turned tail and fled if she wasn’t desperate to make the sale.
Lauren reached the end of the hallway without finding the guy. She wanted to go home, didn’t want to be there, and that inner voice urged her to return to her car. The lights hadn’t been on which made her wonder why the buyer would willingly wander around in the dark. Who would do that? Isn’t it basic instinct to turn on lights? There was no way she wanted to walk around the eerie building blind.
She stared at the massive metal double doors and her heart raced. Her rent was due, she had a car payment, and less than two grand to her name. She’d be in deep shit if she didn’t make money in the next few weeks. Homeless hadn’t been her goal when she’d put herself through school. The buyer was somewhere—he’d unlocked the door and the sports car had to be his.
What if he had tripped? He could be hurt and the lights might have a timer on them. She glanced up at the lighted beams and knew she’d freak out big-time if she were suddenly left in the dark if they turned off.
“Too many horror movies. This is what you get for watching them.” She reached for one of the door handles, paused, and noticed her hand trembled. “You’ll totally feel like shit if this man had a heart attack and he’s lying in there dying while you’re being a chickenshit.”
The pep talk helped.
Lauren straightened her shoulders and gripped the cold metal handle. It twisted easily and she shoved hard. The door opened to reveal pitch blackness and cooler air. A shiver ran down her spine as she paused there.
“Mr. Herbert?” She lowered her voice to mutter, “Answer me. You better have had a heart attack or something to explain why you’re scaring the shit out of me by not answering. God knows I’m about to have one.”
Her gaze paused on the light switch inside the warehouse section and she moved fast for it. She’d do a quick walk-through to see if the client was there but afterward she’d split.
She had almost reached it when total darkness closed in around her and the door slammed loudly at her back. She gasped and froze. Her eyes widened but she couldn’t see a thing. Goose bumps pricked her skin and she hoped she wouldn’t seriously have a heart attack.
Calm down! She forced herself to take a breath. The doors are probably weighted to close. Turn on the lights! Damn Amanda and her talk of serial killers.
She found the wall with her franticly seeking hands, brushed her fingertips along the smooth surface, and finally touched the switches. She flipped them on and prayed they’d work. A slight hum startled her but the room brightened as the lights flickered a few times rapidly but stayed on. Oh, thank God!
She turned her head to stare at the vast warehouse. It had to be fifty feet in height from the concrete floor to the metal ceiling beams. The previous owner had left big metal containers inside that blocked her view of large sections but she could see parts of the back wall to judge that it had to be a good six hundred feet long and probably five hundred feet wide. Lauren frowned as she looked at the four rusted hunks of junk—shipping containers similar to the ones she’d seen leaving the harbor on cargo ships.
Why didn’t the owner remove them? It looks bad for a sale. She really wasn’t familiar with the property. It was Brent Thort’s listing. She briefly wondered what Brent’s big emergency had been that made him duck out on Mr. Herbert. If the potential buyer asked about those containers she wouldn’t have an answer.
Is the owner going to have them removed under the contract or is the building selling as is with those massive babies? Damn. Lauren gripped her purse, ready to call her boss to ask, if she ever found the elusive buyer.
“Mr. Herbert!” She yelled for all she was worth.
Movement made her gasp. The man who stepped out from behind the container wore all black. Lauren’s heart hammered and she stiffened. Fear didn’t inch up her spine. It jolted lightning-quick from her heels to her brain.
He was dressed wrong to drive the fancy sports car outside. He definitely didn’t look like a Mr. Herbert. He was a big man and reminded her of a mix between a ninja, with the all-black clothing, and a soldier, with the bulky bulletproof vest. Black material encased everything on the man except his tan throat and head. Spiked black hair also gave her the impression that he was military but the dark sunglasses didn’t fit with the look. She couldn’t see his eyes at all.
He slowly stalked toward her, closing the distance while she stood there frozen. It gave her time to take in more details of the stranger. He had wide shoulders and his shirt stretched tightly over thick, bulky biceps. Her fear notched higher. That screamed “ex-convict” to her. She had a neighbor with arms nearly that size and he’d told her lifting weights had been the only thing to alleviate boredom while he’d served nine years for armed robbery.
Lauren swallowed hard. Her neighbor scared the crap out of her but this guy was ten times worse. Her gaze lowered to his black boots and she openly stared at them since her legs still refused to work. Definitely military. Her cousin was in the Marines and she’d seen him polish his boots a few months before while visiting an aunt. The kickass chunky boots were almost exactly the same as the ones she’d seen.
Whoever he was, she bet he wasn’t Mr. Herbert. She knew that but was hopeful to be wrong. She finally backed up and nearly tripped. She fought down a scream of terror. Her gaze had located the two guns holstered to his thighs, a sight she had missed until her brain began to function better.
A soft whimper escaped her parted lips. The man wore black cargo pants that had pockets running up both legs. He not only had guns but a long knife was strapped over one thigh as well. Her terrified gaze landed on his gloved hands. They were open at his sides and it reminded her of something out of an old western as they twitched, almost as if they were about to draw down on someone, gunslinger fashion.
“Are you Mr. Herbert?” She hated the crack she heard in her voice.
The man paused and cocked his head slightly. His mouth twisted into a tight line, giving the appearance of either anger or confusion. She wished he wasn’t wearing the glasses so she could see his eyes. His bone structure was pronounced—strong cheekbones, full lips and a masculine, square chin. She retreated another step while the silence stretched between them.
Something moved at the corner of her vision and she jerked her head in that direction. Another man stepped out from behind a second container. He was blond, tall, huge, and dressed just like the first guy. The rest of his looks didn’t register to Lauren. All she saw beyond the basics was the big weapon he gripped with both hands. It looked like a wicked mean shotgun.
Oh dear God. Lauren freaked out, totally lost her cool, and spun. She ran right into the doors and bounced back enough to nearly fall on her butt. Her fingers frantically grabbed at the bar that would open the door and gave it a mighty shove. The thing still didn’t open. She threw her shoulder against the door while pushing frantically on the bar again but it wouldn’t budge.
“No!” She kicked at the locked door and hurt her toes in the process but wasn’t willing to give up. Two terrifying men were behind her. “Open up. Damn you, open up!” she yelled but it wouldn’t let her through.
Her heart raced and she panted after she gave up. The doors weren’t going to let her pass and she was trapped. Her fingers released the bar and she slowly turned to face the two men who were probably sickos targeting real estate agents.
The men remained in the same positions and she glanced between the black-clad figures. The blond wore dark glasses too. He lowered the big gun to aim it more at the floor than at her. It was the only upside she could find.
Lauren remembered her purse dangling from her arm. Her gaze darted between the two men in absolute terror before she frantically searched for another door. She didn’t see one. Her hand slid down to her purse, brushed her car keys clipped there, and her brain began to work.
Panic button. I have one! Her thumb brushed the square pad and she pushed the button. In the distance, although muffled, her car alarm began to scream in rapid bursts. She swallowed hard. Maybe it will draw the attention of…no one. The area around the building is deserted. Damn it. Her hand inched toward the flap of her purse and her cell phone.
“Turn it off,” one of the men ordered in an unnaturally deep voice. “Now.”
