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abruptly gone.
    But this was how things were now, she reminded herself. And she had Zeke.
    He caught her eye from across the room and cocked an eyebrow. She could tell that he was worried, too.
    “So, what? We just stand here and stare at him?” Turk spat. “This is bullshit.”
    Before Noa could answer, Zeke spoke up. “We’ve got the Tasers, right? We could use those.”
    Noa shifted uncomfortably. It was the middle of the night, and she still hadn’t slept. The fatigue was starting to become overwhelming, to the point where she felt like she might keel over midsentence. But she’d decided that it would be better to deal with their captive sooner rather than later. They needed to get as much out of him as possible; keeping him any longer than necessary was too dangerous.
    “What are we waiting for?” Crystal said impatiently. “Make him talk!”
    The rest of the group murmured in assent.
    Noa was tempted to call the whole thing off, but nine kids were staring at her expectantly. If she backed down now, she’d lose their respect. And the minute that happened, they’d turn on her.
    She felt a hand on her elbow. In a low voice, Zeke said, “Whatever you want to do, I’ll back you.”
    Noa nodded briskly, feeling a wave of gratitude. Zeke was the one person she could always count on. Knowing that gave her the strength to say, “Take off the duct tape.”
    The charge in the room kicked up another notch as Turk ripped away the tape covering the guy’s mouth.
    The commando glared at Noa. “Stupid little bitch,” he growled. “You’ve made a big mistake.”
    “Says the guy tied to the chair,” Zeke muttered.
    Noa bent over to look him in the eye. “Where were you taking Teo?”
    “To the ballpark,” the guy said with a snort. “Looked like the kid could use a hot dog.”
    “We left your buddy Jimmy for the others to find,” Zeke chimed in. “Bet he’s not laughing right now.”
    “He’s not my buddy,” the guy muttered, but his eyes shifted to the floor.
    “They probably killed him, right, Noa?” Zeke added. “That’s what happened to the last one.”
    There hadn’t been a last one, actually; but maybe the guy wouldn’t know that. She had no idea whether or not P&D’s mercenaries communicated with one another. That was just one of the things it would be helpful to find out. “We could always take you back there,” she said, watching him closely. “See if they might want to have some fun with you, too.”
    The guy didn’t appear concerned, or maybe he was just good at hiding it. “You’re going to kill me anyway,” he snorted. “You have to.”
    “No,” Noa said. “I don’t. I can leave you at the ballpark, if you want. All you have to do is answer a few questions.”
    The guy tilted his head back and laughed. “You don’t get it, do you? If you don’t kill me, they will. They’ll know I told you something. Hell, they’ll kill me anyway, just for screwing up.”
    “So you’re already dead,” Noa pointed out. “Then why not talk?”
    “Why should I?” The guy tried to shrug, but his arms were bound too tightly to the chair.
    “They’re killing kids,” Noa said, fighting back a sudden swell of rage—she could practically feel the cold metal table beneath her again. “That doesn’t bother you?”
    “I never killed anyone,” the guy protested. “My job was just to grab ’em. They were mostly trash, anyway.”
    At that, a few of the kids shifted. Noa could sense their anger growing, and she didn’t blame them. They’d all probably been called trash at one point or another. And whether or not they acknowledged it, it always hurt.
    “You’re a dead man,” Turk said, shoving his way into the circle.
    “Turk, step off,” Noa ordered.
    “Screw that.” He punched the guy in the chest hard, and the chair tipped back and slammed into the ground. Turk planted a Timberland boot squarely on the guy’s throat.
    Noa snapped, “Off him, Turk!”
    Turk glowered at her.