If Rolland didn’t show, their mission was dead. They could call Sage for a ride back, but leaving now would feel like failure.
“I’m with Bryson,” Kaydon said. “Let’s wait a bit. Dri will give us hell anyway—might as well see this through.”
Kaydon glanced around. “Or maybe he went home.”
“Sage saw him here yesterday,” Bryson replied, biting a hangnail.
“Maybe he needs a push,” Kaydon said.
Bryson looked back at Kaydon.
“You mean some bait?”
Kaydon raised an eyebrow. “You have a better idea?”
Ten minutes later, Bryson was sitting at a table with Seth, ordering breakfast. Seth fidgeted across from him, shifting his eyes around the room.
“Stop doing that,” Bryson spoke casually, but his tone was firm.
Seth stilled instantly.
“Try and relax. Kaydon is watching. Remember, we actually want Rolland to approach us. And he isn’t going to do that with you looking suspicious as hell.”
Seth took in a breath and rearranged his face into something that moderately resembled relaxed.
“Good boy,” Bryson said, and Seth shot him a glare.
Their breakfast arrived. Bryson took a bite of his sandwich—and heard the unmistakable click of a gun being cocked behind him.
“I thought your father was crazy for sending me,” Rolland’s cold voice said. “I never expected that Federov bitch to end up here.”
Bryson kept his expression calm, taking a bite of his breakfast before responding, “Don’t get too excited, Rolland. Even a broken clock is right twice a day.”
Seth’s eyes were razor sharp across from him, and Bryson willed him to stay calm.
“Here is what is going to happen,” Rolland said. “You are going to have your attack dog across from you stay where he is, and you and I are going to take a little walk.”
“Where to?” Bryson said, feigning interest.
The pressure of the barrel moved from his head. “Or I could just shoot him right now.”
Seth’s gaze didn’t leave the figure behind Bryson.
“Seth will stay right where he is, and I’ll go with you. You’ll find you won’t be so lucky if you shoot him.”
There was an extended silence before the gun pressed back into Bryson’s head, and Rolland said, “Fine, let’s go.”
Bryson placed his palms against the table, moving to stand up.
“Stay where you are,” Kaydon said, and Bryson heard another click of a weapon being loaded.
Out of his periphery, he could see Kaydon, his hand outstretched. Bryson imagined what the scene must have looked like to the other patrons. Rolland holding a gun to Bryson, and Kaydon holding a gun to Rolland.
“You won’t shoot me,” Rolland said.
“Do you want to take that risk?” Kaydon asked. “Step back and we will be out of your hair. You can leave and tell Callen you never saw us.”
“And why would I do that?” Rolland asked.
