More rage flooded my system—hot and blinding.
Unfortunately, I couldn't do anything about it publicly. Not according to the rules of our world. If one listened in on conversations, the person got what was dealt with.
This wasn't something I could officially declare to anyone, not even the Lion.
But personally?
If there was ever a moment where I could get the Butcher back and make him pay in the future, I would do it.
I tightened my grip on my guns.
Protect you and yours, Jean-Pierre. I'll get you one day. Don't you worry about that.
We started running.
Hiroko led us through the maze of tunnels, and I could hear our boots pounding against the stone floor.
Then I heard it further behind us.
Gunfire.
Fuck. They’re searching for us.
Sharp cracks echoed through the tunnels.
Hiro got in front of me. “A cleanup crew to mow down anybody who survived."
My brother would know. He’d killed for my father long enough to have probably been a part of one.
Hiro's jaw tightened. "He expected us to rush to that door without thinking."
"Exactly," I said. "We need to get out of here. We don't know how many people are in that crew."
"Could be a small amount that we can handle or it could be a small army."
Reo jumped in, "Based on how elaborate those mines were, I'm betting on the army."
The gunfire was getting louder.
"This way." Hiroko led us down another hallway.
Reo pressed into his mic as we hurried. "Kill box. Status."
Static for a second.
Then the Scale's voice came through, slightly breathless. "Executed. All targets down."
"Casualties?"
"None on our side."
I pictured the crowned commander—the one with two women on their knees in front of him. I wondered if he died with his head still thrown back. If his mouth was still open. If the last thing he ever felt was pleasure before the knife found his throat.
Reo pressed the mic. "Get out of there."
"Yes, sir."
One win in the middle of a disaster. I'd take it.
