She kept her knife at his ear, but she flicked the other blade and sliced off his opposite ear. He hollered, but she pressed her forearm against the back of his neck, throttling the noise to a gurgle.
She needed him cowed, more fearful of her than even pain could achieve. She kept her voice cold. “You think your boss Mikhailov is a cruelnadsmotrshchik. Trust me, comrade, I am the one who gives thatkúrvanightmares.”
She had no need to pretend, to fake this threat.
I was a monster.
“You’re going to tell me where she is,” Seichan promised him.
He tried to deny her.
She shifted her knee to his neck and showed him she was not lying. Her vision narrowed as she let loose that monster. The Guild had taught her well, where pain and terror resided in a body. She used her knives until the man mewled under her. His blood spread wide across the tiles.
“Stoy...” he pleaded with her, his voice a croak of agony.
“Tell me.”
“Fifteenth floor... 1509...”
She retrieved his Grach and pointed the pistol at the back of his head. He did not even try to move. She breathed heavily, a slight tremble in her arm, as she fought the monster inside her.
Finally, she scowled, reversed the weapon, and struck him hard behind his remaining ear. Bone cracked, and he slumped limp into the pool of blood. She stripped him of his radio, then grabbed the RPG launcher and slung it over her shoulder.
She stared at the Grach in her hand.
Her breathing remained hard.
I won’t be that monster.
Still, she leaned down and sliced his other Achilles tendon, hobbling him, making sure he was no longer a threat.
But I won’t be a fool either.
15
May 11, 10:25P.M. MSK
Moscow, Russian Federation
How did Mikhailov find us?
The question burned brightly in Gray’s mind, but the priority was to get everyone to safety. With the first rocket blast, Gray had burst to his feet—or tried to. Pain shot up his left leg from his ankle. He caught himself on the table’s edge.
On the far side, Monk and Jason gathered Bailey and the two members of the Russian Church. A pained glance to Gray’s left showed Tucker rushing out of the conference room, guarding over Dr. Stutt, flanked by his two dogs. The former Army Ranger had reacted with lightning reflexes, protecting the charge given to him, likely feeling responsible for hauling Elle here, for putting her in danger again.
Tucker’s instincts—while well-intentioned—were going to get them both killed.
Monk spotted this, too. “I’ll fetch them.”
“No.” Gray pointed to the others. “Get everyone to safety.”
He headed toward the door, pulling free his SIG Sauer. He cursed himself for not warning Tucker of the team’s contingency plan. Beyond the embassy’s grounds being considered sacrosanct territory of the Holy See, the building’s history had its own secrets—known only by a handful of the staff.
And certain members of the Vaticanintelligenza.
Father Bailey strode quickly to the room’s back wall. He pushed on apanel, and it popped open, revealing it to be a secret door, similar to the one that hid the embassy’s communication hub. But this panel didn’t open into a room. Behind it was a steel vault-like door.
Bailey reached for its electronic lock, which glowed an angry red, and swiped a black titanium card across it, a gift from the ambassador. The lock flashed green, and the large bolts that sealed the door slid away.
