Me:Where and when?
Unknown number:I’ll be in touch.
Of course, he would. There were seven renowned fixers in the UK. It wouldn’t take long to find out which one he was.
There were two who would go to any lengths to collect their fee. One of them was an ex-MI5 agent.
I glanced back at the flashing pinpoint marking Lielit’s location. If she were subjected to a body scan, I could lose her.
Extraction first. Then carnage.
Fenrir went from ice to fire as heat spread across my chest. My hand lingered over my heart for a brief moment before I rushed out of my office.
They took my heart.
They took my flesh and blood from me.
No one would get out of this alive.
???
The fixer, Anthony Hanson, was spectacularly sold out for a mere £750k. However, when you tug on a strand of thread, the unravelling can get messy. His enjoyment of what he deemed my downfall would extend his life—but not in the way he hoped would benefit him.
No matter what he says or does, you do not kill him under any circumstances, I reminded Fenrir as I dumped two sets of spare clothing by the side of the building. I’d parked my car four blocks away from the abandoned warehouse. It should have been a den for junkies. The building was condemned and awaiting redevelopment.
We walked around the building, listening and cataloguing the faint speech patterns. There were four people on the ground floor. I glanced at the pipe before scaling it until I reached the roof. There was a fifth man upstairs, but he didn’t stay long after I heard a toilet flush.
A condemned building shouldn’t have a water supply—but I could investigate the building’s owner later.
I strained to listen for Lielit or Bouda, but there was nothing. Then I heard it.
Metal against metal.
Three taps at a time.
Chapter 50
Lielit
Being left alone to wait and think was the hardest part. Not because I doubted Fenrir and Blaidd would come for us, but because of the dark thoughts of what could be happening to women and children. The man had planted an image of my babies in my mind that I couldn’t drive away.
It was fear that plagued my thoughts, forcing me to visualise my twin babies being harmed. No matter how hard I tried to distract myself, my mind kept circling back to them.
Hours could have passed. There was no window—no way to tell where the sun was. All I needed was a sign that Blaidd was here, and I’d shift out of the cuffs.
I heard shoes clicking on the concrete.
It was him.
There were at least four people in the building. They could be armed, and I couldn’t risk losing the twins by trying to escape on my own.
The door wasn’t locked. That didn’t surprise me. The whole place looked as though it was about to collapse. Rusted iron beams ran along the ceiling, graffiti covered the walls, and the far corner—where he’d stood earlier—was littered with discarded needles.
“Dinner is served,” he mocked as he walked toward me.
He held out a tub of fruit, a packaged sandwich, and a bottle of water.
I didn’t move.
