A Deadly Game by R.J. Patterson

Author:R.J. Patterson [Patterson, R.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-11-28T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FIVE

UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

J.D. Blunt shifted on the cot, the springs squeaking with each slight movement. In the corner of his ten-foot-by-ten-foot cell, a steady drip from the ceiling spattered onto the concrete floor, resulting in a dank and musty aroma. The fluorescent lights in the corridor flickered occasionally, which Blunt found only slightly more annoying than the constant hum they produced. He buried his head in his hands, exhausted from his inability to sleep and the lack of human contact. A few hours earlier, he’d shouted down the hallway, hoping to hear sign of life from fellow prisoners. But there weren’t any.

When Blunt had been taken into custody, he expected to receive his one phone call, which he’d planned to use to summon his lawyer. But instead of a call, he received a prick in the back of his neck that knocked him out. Upon regaining consciousness, he found himself in a cell, effectively in solitary confinement. So solitary was his detainment, that his food appeared in a small box on the back wall of his cell at 8:00 AM, noon, and 5:00 PM daily. And with a toilet in the corner of the room, there was no need for human contact. At one point, Blunt began to wonder if the food was even being prepared and delivered by a human. Everything about his imprisonment seemed automated, if not at least impersonal.

Then there was the elephant in the room, the one disguised as a chair with a fresh set of clothes and a long belt situated at the foot of the bed. All the tools were present. Then Blunt had looked up and noticed the hook securely fastened to the ceiling, everything seeming to dare him to hang himself, to end the misery, to escape another way.

Blunt couldn’t deny that he’d entertained the thought once or twice. After all, who would believe his innocence? He’d been set up—and now he’d been forgotten, left to rot in one of the bureau’s deserted cells. If he went through with it, a team of agents either doing penance or looking for a way to climb up the bureau’s ranks would recreate a similar scene at Blunt’s house, exonerating them. No one would be the wiser, except maybe Black and Shields. And then their unrelenting quest to discover what really happened to him would result in them meeting an early demise themselves should they get close to the truth.

But it wasn’t worth it. Blunt figured he’d just have to keep the faith, as difficult as that seemed to be in the moment. He’d have to stay strong mentally and physically. He could play games with his brain while also working out to remain sharp physically. His knee had given him trouble for years, but he’d discovered that adrenaline surges provided the best numbing agent available on the market.

No, Blunt wasn’t about to give up. He was going to fight like hell. If anyone could be a pain in the ass to the FBI while holed up in a forgotten jail cell, Blunt could.

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