You should have stayed buried, Thomas.
Attached was a photograph.
Sarah.
Sitting in a chair.
Looking directly into the camera.
And beneath it, another message.
Come alone, or your wife dies twice.
END OF CHAPTER 4
Chapter 5 - THE OLD MAN AT THE GYMBy morning, my house was a blackened shell.
Firefighters had saved the neighboring homes, but almost nothing remained of mine.
The roof had collapsed.
The living room was gone.
The photographs.
Sarah's paintings.
Emily's childhood drawings.
All of it.
I stood across the street wearing borrowed clothes while investigators searched the ruins.
Grace arrived just after eight.
She didn't ask whether I was all right.
She knew better.
Instead, she handed me coffee.
"Emily's safe."
I closed my eyes.
"Thank God."
"She knows about the fire."
"How is she?"
"Angry."
I looked at Grace.
"Good."
She studied me.
"Thomas, I know what you're thinking."
"No, you don't."
"You're thinking about going after Derek."
I said nothing.
"You're thinking that if you can get him alone, he'll tell you where Sarah is."
I looked away.
Grace sighed.
"And maybe you're right. But if you attack him, Victor wins."
I hated how reasonable she sounded.
Because part of me wanted to walk into Derek's gym and break every bone in his body.
Not because I enjoyed violence.
Because I'd seen what he'd done to Emily.
Because he'd taken Sarah.
Because men like Derek had spent their entire lives mistaking cruelty for power.
But Grace was right.
I couldn't afford to become the story Derek wanted the world to believe.
So I made a different decision.
I would walk into his gym.
In daylight.
With witnesses.
And ask him one question.
Where was my wife?
Derek trained at Iron Crown MMA, a massive facility on the industrial side of town.
His face covered the front windows.
Championship belts hung behind the reception desk.
Young fighters moved across the mats beneath bright overhead lights.
When I entered, conversations stopped.
A receptionist looked up.
"Can I help you?"
"I'm here to see Derek Voss."
"Do you have an appointment?"
"No."
She glanced at my gray hair and worn jacket.
"He's training."
"I'll wait."
A muscular man approached from the far side of the room.
He wore a black shirt with IRON CROWN printed across the chest.
"You lost, Grandpa?"
I looked at him.
"No."
"This is a private facility."
"Then tell Derek Thomas Mercer is here."
The man laughed.
"You're the old guy from the video."
Several fighters turned toward us.
Someone raised a phone.
I didn't react.
"Tell him I'm here."
The man stepped closer.
"Maybe you should leave before somebody gets hurt."
I met his eyes.
"That's exactly what I'm trying to prevent."
He didn't like that answer.
His hand closed around my arm.
I looked down at it.
"Let go."
He tightened his grip.
"Or what?"
I sighed.
Young men.
Always the same question.
I shifted my weight and turned just enough to free my arm without striking him.
He stumbled forward.
A few fighters laughed.
His face reddened.
Then a voice thundered from the cage.
"BACK OFF!"
Derek Voss stood beneath the overhead lights.
Sweat glistened across his shoulders.
His right hand was still wrapped.
He stared at me with open hatred.
"Well," he said. "Look who decided to visit."
I walked toward the cage.
The fighters stepped aside.
Derek leaned against the fence.
"Come to apologize?"
"Where's Sarah?"
His smile faded.
For one second.
Then it returned.
"Who's Sarah?"
"My wife."
He laughed.
"Old man, your wife's dead."
"Then why did you remove her from a medical facility in Oregon?"
The room went quiet.
Derek's eyes narrowed.
"Careful."
"Where is she?"
He climbed out of the cage.
Up close, he was even larger than I remembered.
Six feet three.
Two hundred and forty pounds.
Muscle built through years of training.
He looked down at me.
"You walk into my gym, accuse me of something, and expect answers?"
"I expect you to tell the truth."
He smiled.
"Then maybe we should settle this like men."
A fighter behind him laughed.
"Put the old guy in the cage!"
Others joined in.
Derek raised his hands.
"Come on, Thomas. One round. No cameras. No lawyers. Just you and me."
I looked around.
At the phones already recording.
At the young men waiting to see an old man humiliated.
At Derek's smug expression.
"No."
The laughter grew louder.
Derek spread his arms.
"That's what I thought."
I turned to leave.
Then he said something that stopped me.
"Emily screamed your name, you know."
My body went still.
Derek smiled.
"That night. She kept saying, 'My dad will help me.'"
I turned slowly.
His smile widened.
"I told her you were too old to help anybody."
The room fell silent.
Even his own fighters looked uncomfortable.
Derek stepped closer.
"Maybe she finally understands."
I stared at him.
Then I spoke quietly.
"Do you know why you're still standing?"
He laughed.
"Because you're scared."
"No."
I looked directly into his eyes.
"Because my daughter needs a father more than you need a lesson."
For the first time, he didn't have an answer.
I walked out.
But before I reached the door, a young fighter followed me.
"Mr. Mercer?"
I turned.
He was about twenty-three, with dark hair and a nervous expression.
"My name's Caleb."
I nodded.
"Can we talk?"
He glanced toward the cage.
"Not here."
We stepped outside.
Caleb looked over his shoulder.
"I know who you are."
I frowned.
"From the news?"
"No."
He swallowed.
"My grandfather knew you."
"Who's your grandfather?"
"Michael Turner."
My breath caught.
The missing investigator.
Caleb reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope.
"He told me if Thomas Mercer ever came looking for answers, I should give you this."
I stared at him.
"Your grandfather's alive?"
Caleb nodded.
"He's been hiding for years."
"Where?"
"I can't tell you yet."
"Why?"
"Because he says somebody inside the government is still working for Caldwell."
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a photograph of Sarah standing beside Victor Caldwell.
On the back was an address.
And one sentence.
The woman was never the prisoner. She was the witness.
I looked at Caleb.
"What does that mean?"
He shook his head.
"I don't know."
Then he reached into his pocket and handed me a small brass key.
"Grandpa said this opens the thing that started everything."
I turned the key over.
Stamped into the metal were three letters.
S.M.C.
Sarah Mercer Caldwell?
No.
That made no sense.
Unless Sarah had been hiding something from me long before she disappeared.
Caleb stepped closer.
"There's something else."
"What?"
"Derek's holding a private event tomorrow night."
"Where?"
"At the gym."
"What kind of event?"
Caleb looked frightened.
"Victor Caldwell is coming."
I stared at him.
"And?"
Caleb swallowed.
"They're bringing a woman."
My heart began pounding.
"Sarah?"
He nodded.
"That's what I heard."
Then he said something that made the entire world seem to stop.
"Mr. Mercer, Derek told everyone he's going to make you fight him in front of a crowd."
I looked back through the gym windows.
Derek was laughing with his trainers.
Caleb continued.
"He says if you refuse, he'll hurt your wife."
I closed my fist around the brass key.
For twenty-six years, I'd avoided the life I once knew.
I'd buried my skills.
My anger.
My past.
But now the past had come looking for me.
And this time, it had brought my family.
END OF CHAPTER 5
Chapter 6 - THE FIGHT NOBODY EXPECTEDThe next evening, I walked into Iron Crown MMA wearing a plain black T-shirt and an old pair of training pants.
No entourage.
No expensive equipment.
No dramatic entrance.
Just a sixty-eight-year-old man with gray hair, aching knees, and a heart full of things he couldn't afford to lose.
The gym had been transformed.
Bright lights surrounded the cage.
Cameras stood along the walls.
Nearly two hundred invited spectators filled the seats.
Derek Voss had turned my family's suffering into entertainment.
A private event for wealthy sponsors, fighters, and people who enjoyed watching powerful men humiliate weaker ones.
At least, that was what they thought they were going to see.
Grace had begged me not to come.
Rebecca Shaw had warned me that Victor might be using the event to provoke an assault or murder.