“No,” Cas and Jonah said at the same time.
Cas continued petting Jonah’s sweaty forehead, hoping his nerves weren’t making Jonah feel worse.
From his spot at Red’s desk, Madi started opening drawers and files.
“What are you doing? Leave Red’s shit alone,” Cas scolded.
Madi flipped open his pocketknife and twirled it around. “Why? It's not like he’s using any of it anymore. Besides, he’s probably got shit on all of us in here.” He resumed his rummaging.
“You’re lucky to get off pretty light, all things considered,” Osfield said as he cut the thread on the last stitch to Jonah’s side. “You need to keep it clean. Stitches can come out in seven to ten days. I’m leaving you with a course of antibiotics, but you need to stay off the leg as much as possible. Crutches are best, so find a set. Also, I’m not coming back if you tear those stitches.”
“What about where he was tased?” Cas asked as Jonah dragged himself into a sitting position.
“What about it?” Osfield sounded unconcerned. “You want me to kiss it better? He’ll live.”
The doctor gathered his things and stalked over to Madi, who handed him a stack of cash without looking up from rifling through Red’s desk. The man took his money without another word and left.
Cas lifted Jonah’s shirt, wincing at the twin burns on his back that looked like a snake bite, and dragged a kiss over each wound. Turning, Jonah gave Cas a long look and, suddenly, everything that had happened rushed to the surface.
“I thought I’d lost you for good.” Cas pressed his forehead to Jonah’s.
“I can’t believe you did something so stupid,” Jonah admonished.
Madi scoffed, still engrossed in his reading material. “You can’t? Funny, it seems totally on brand for him.”
Cas flipped him off, but Madi didn’t see, so Cas finally asked the question that had been eating at him. “What are we going to do about all the information I have, though? Pritka was right about one thing. Releasing this list is useless. It’ll either get buried or countries will collapse under the scandal. It’s not right, but it's true. But we can’t let these people get away with it. We can’t let Diamantis get away with this.”
“Sadie said she’s got him under control. Whatever that means. But you’re correct. As long as you have that information, you’re always going to be a target,” Jonah agreed.
Cas made a noise of frustration. “I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about these people never being brought to justice.”
“What’s your definition of justice?” Madigan glanced up with a steely expression. “Sending these men to prison? They’re worth millions. They’ll simply run their enterprise through other means. You don’t need the law. You need street justice.”
“You mean murder?” Cas frowned. “I thought of that, but there are fifty high-level targets on that list. It would take Jonah years to get through it, and by then, so many more people would be hurt.” Cas tapped his finger on his chin. “Unless…” He trailed off, the plan still forming in his mind.
“Unless?” Jonah prompted.
“Unless we make our own list. A list of the real targets and release it on the darknet. Like a deadpool.” A deadpool was perfect. Place a high dollar value on each target and let assassins all over the world fight for the kills. Why hadn’t he thought of it before?
Madigan and Jonah exchanged a glance, then Jonah shook his head. “Some of those targets are probably worth millions a piece.”
Oh yeah, money. But maybe Cas could handle that, too. “Sure, but now that I know who they are, I can break into their accounts. We could drain the swamp. Each time a target dies, we drain their accounts to pay for their bounty. No funds, no way to keep the operation going. We just keep taking them out and nuking their finances until they’re running scared and they go underground. It could work.”
Jonah shook his head again. “The Turks know you have the list. They’ll keep coming after you.”
“Cas needs to die.”
A sliver of fear crept down his spine at Madi’s confident statement. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Maybe I would have at first, sure, but you’re growing on me,” Madi said with a tight smile. “Your idea has merit, but there are too many variables. If you can’t crack just one bank account, the deadpool could fall apart, especially with numerous assassins all gunning for the same targets. It’ll be too risky for them to not see proof of income before taking their shot. For an operation of this magnitude, you’ll need a certain amount of cash up front.”
“What about a Kickstarter campaign?” Cas flashed a wry smile. “A signed AK-47 from Madigan for top-tier contributors?”
Madigan threw a pen at Cas. Jonah groaned.
“AK-47,” Madigan muttered. “That’s insulting.”
“Fine, a custom piece.”
