“What is this?” Mina asked.
Azrael narrowed his eyes. “It’s a deadpool.”
“Obviously,” she said with a roll of her eyes and turned to Jonah expectantly.
Jonah shrugged. “I got the same message Sadie did, with the request to extend the invitation to anyone I thought would appreciate a head start before it’s released forty-eight hours from now. That’s it. That’s what I know.”
“And we’re supposed to believe this is from Red? Red’s dead,” Mina stated.
“Well, if anybody could put something like this together beyond the grave, it would be Red,” Madigan muttered.
Mina pressed her lips together, seeming unconvinced. That was all right. Jonah trusted it’d get around eventually that both the list and the promised bounties were legit.
Before anybody could speak again, the voice filled the room once more, the childlike Queen clutching her hands primly. “Understand, these targets will not go unpunished. You have been chosen because you are the top in your field, which is why the Red Queen has given you forty-eight hours to seek out and destroy as many targets as you can. When your time is up, the list will be released onto the darknet and any civilian may pick up the mantle and fight for the Red Queen. Do not waste your advantage. The dead cannot cry out for justice; it is our duty to seek it for them. Your time begins…now.”
Once again, a clock began to tick down on the screen while a shrill voice screamed, “Off with their heads” on a loop. Jonah vaguely realized it was from the oldAlice in Wonderlandmovie. He shook his head.
“That’s not much of a head start,” Damon groused.
“It is if you’re any good.” Madigan pushed out of the chair, swiped a drink from the table, and headed for the door.
“Leaving so soon?” Azrael asked with a soft chuckle. “A deadpool too plebeian for your tastes?”
Madigan held the door open with his foot and flashed Azrael a sharp grin. “Au contraire,” he said in perfectly accented French. “I’ve got a plane to catch.” He ticked his chin toward the screen. “I think Robert Cortez is going to have a very unlucky night.” With a mock salute to Jonah, he vanished.
An hour later, Jonah walked out of Wired onto the darkened streets.
Two hours after that, he was in an Uber on the way to the airport to catch a red-eye.
* * *
The plane toucheddown in Belize City at ten a.m. From the private car, Jonah watched the lush scenery roll by and listened to the chatter of the radio, trying to pick out bits of conversation. For the last three weeks, he’d spent every spare second with an earbud in his ear, working through an online Spanish course. It was slow going.
Fortunately, he had plenty of time now.
Jonah tapped the back of the driver’s seat twice when he stopped in front of a simple whitewashed wood gate and started to lean toward the intercom. “Drop me here.” He didn’t like anyone coming inside.
Jonah stood on the dirt drive with his duffle bag and waited until the car disappeared before buzzing the intercom and standing in front of the camera. The gate began a rickety slide along its track a few moments later.
Once the gate closed behind him, Jonah started down the sandy drive, sucking in lungfuls of jasmine-scented air. A quarter mile ahead, in-between the trees, the Pacific glowed in a sapphire mimicry of the sky above.
The driveway led to a simple house sitting aloft stilts, with whitewashed wood siding that matched the front gate. The house hadn’t been the draw, though. It’d been the porch that stretched out over the water that had caught Jonah’s eye and the endless blue panorama it offered.
He stood outside a moment, listening to the water lap at the piers, while he stared out at the ocean. Then he climbed the stairs and unlocked the door.
The house itself was quiet, but every sliding door that stretched across the back was open, sea air rushing inside in salty drafts.
Jonah left his bag at the door and stopped at the kitchen for a drink of water before peering into the bedroom and finding the bed in complete disarray. Figured. He smiled. Across the living room was another door. He opened it and leaned against the frame, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. Light flickered from several screens, and he listened to the rapid clack of keys as he studied Cas’s silhouette. “I thought you were going to take a break?” Jonah closed the door behind him.
The clacking stopped, and the chair swiveled around. Cas had a wireless keyboard balanced on his legs, chest bare. Was he naked? Jonah cocked his head, squinting, and forgot what he’d been saying. Oh, right. Admonishing Cas.
“Thisisa break,” Cas insisted with a grin. “I’m working on a game.”
“Yeah? What kind of game?” Jonah dragged his gaze upward, wandering closer as Cas spoke animatedly, detailing puzzles of logic, a series of escalating adventures, and whirling around to click through the screens and show Jonah some rudimentary graphics. Jonah folded his arms on the back of Cas’s chair and leaned over, resting his chin on them.
“It’s kind of a throwback to the Atari era. I don’t know if I’ll ever finish it.” Cas sighed and tilted his head back. “You know how that goes for me sometimes.”
Jonah stroked his fingers over Cas’s forehead, down the side of his cheek. “You should try, though. It sounds fun.”
