“Remind me to give you a raise.”
“I certainly will,” she says happily.
Thanks to the images, when the locks open with a loud thud, I know Zheng’s on the far side of the room, and that men arehiding against the wall on either side of the steel door. Gesturing to Keith, I turn left to shoot the guard as we step through the door, and he shoots right.
Zhang is seated in front of the control panel. The monitors are blank, so Lucy and Terrence must have jammed his feed.
“Ni zhège bùzhi liánchi de húndàn.You honorless bastard,” he croaks. “Even if you kill me, you can never stop my legacy.”
“The one that includes your uncle? Because that evil fuck is dead, there’s no coming back this time. He was burned alive in the warehouse he used for storing women and children.” I drew in a deep breath. “Children. We will destroy any traces of the Zhang and Chun Triads. Your name will be nothing more than a cautionary tale.”
His hand is sliding behind him and I shoot that arm. The force of the bullet knocks him off the chair and I see the guns strapped under the control panel. Sighing irritably, I shoot his other arm, ignoring his scream.
“I’ve never quite understood how men like you can command such loyalty from soldiers far more skilled and worthy than you are,” I say. “Getting to you was hard, they fought well for you. But I know that you’re both arrogant, and a coward. You would never leave your fortress, ordering your men into danger while you stay behind.”
The stream of blood on Zhang’s left arm is turning into a river. Hmm. Must have hit an artery.
“Safe rooms are never safe. Not when you’re counting on technology to keep you secure. Any command has an override.”
I shoot him in the left knee. His face is nearly purple with rage and pain.
“That was for all the women and children we rescued tonight.” His agony stirs nothing in me, not even a satisfied sense of revenge. Perhaps I am a sociopath.
“I have money,” Zhang chokes out. “More than you could imagine.”
Shooting him in the other knee, I watch him scream again, rolling around and clutching his leg.
“That’s for being a whiny bastard,” I say, “and while you deserve to be tortured for days before I let you die, I’m…” I check my watch, “I’m on a bit of a schedule.” Raising my Glock, I put my boot on his chest and the gun pressed against his forehead. “And this? This is for Sorcha. She’s suffered enough from your fucking family.”
Blood and brain matter spray across the floor, and I reach for my phone. I need to hear Sorcha’s voice to finally end this night. Her phone rings, eventually inviting me to leave a message. Frowning, I dial again. I’d expected her to pick up on the first ring, she was so upset when I’d left the penthouse with her brothers. When she doesn’t pick up, my third call is to Eileen.
“Where is Sorcha?” I demand the instant she picks up.
“Well, she’s with Mr. Davies,” she says, surprised, “he said you’d asked him to take her to you. He was still in his…” she hesitated, “in his work clothes.”
A chill runs up my spine like a cold steel blade. Alec would never willingly be around Sorcha unless…
Unless he’s using her as bait.
Chapter Thirty-Six
In which there are so many revelations. None of them good.
Sorcha…
“You should stop struggling, you’re not going anywhere.” Alec looks up from his monitors irritably. “You’re cutting up your wrists, I didn’t put those cuffs on you that tightly. I’m trying to keep you in good condition, Alastair will want you back.”
“How do you expect Alastair to just go back to business as usual after you kill my father?” I snap, “You dinna think my brothers will come after you?”
“They understand the concept of an eye for an eye, I’m sure,” he says indifferently. “Your father owes a blood debt. I told him that if I spot any of your brothers outside the house, I’ll kill you. But I’m fine with slaughtering you all.”
“What blood debt? Will you fecking tell me what the hell this is about? Why do you hate my family so much?” I force myself to hold still. He’s right, all this struggling just managed to tighten these cuffs down.
Drumming his fingers on the desk, he ignores me for a moment, watching the security monitors again. His eyes are alight with fury when he snaps back to me. Green eyes, almost a jade color.
“Your father killed mine. A bloody stupid fucking stunt. My father caught him in the middle of a burglary. I was seven yearsold. MacTavish Senior is a pathetic bastard, and I intend to spend some time working an apology out of him before I put a bullet in his brain.”
“I- I dinna believe you,” I say, shaking my head. “My father wouldnever-”
