Gas?
Two of the men went to the other Range Rover behind the van and retrieved canisters. Then they started to douse all the prisoners on the stone, drenching them in gasoline so strong I could actually smell it through the open door.
Constantine pulled out a book of matches from his back pocket. He ripped one out and struck it across the edge, making it light up.
All the guys on the ground started to plead, whimpering when they knew what was coming.
He went to the first one and stood over him, holding the lit match before him. “You’ve violated the laws of the Roman Republic, and as Emperor Constantine of the Roman Empire, I hereby sentence you to death.” He flicked the match on the body, and flames immediately ensued.
The screams ... I would never forget them.
The guy desperately rolled as he tried to put them out, and he rolled into his comrade, who also caught fire. Another wave of screams erupted as they were both burned alive, screaming for a reprieve that hadn’t come yet, not until the flames made it past all the layers of skin.
The screams abated, but they continued to burn.
Constantine went to the third man and did the same. Lit the match and read out his sentence before he tossed the fire onto the pile of gasoline. Another ball of flames exploded and illuminated the alleyway between the closed businesses.
That left Pierre.
I knew there was something wrong with Timothée. He knew this entire time. He didn’t stare at me because he was attracted to me. He stared at me because he thought I was a perfect target. No family. No boyfriend. And I lived alone. He assumed no one would notice I was gone until it was far too late.
“Tell me who you work for, and I’ll be merciful.” Constantine pulled out the handgun from the back of his jeans and cocked it. “Or don’t—and you’ll burn.”
The answer was clear to me.
“I’ll tell you everything you want to know,” Pierre said as he trembled from the ground. “If you let me go.”
Constantine smiled down at him, but it was fucking eerie. Then he raised his gun and shot him in the leg. The gunshot reverberated off both the walls, amplifying it to reach across the entire city.
Pierre screamed like he’d been set on fire.
“I’ve laid out your options—now choose.”
Pierre continued to writhe, blood pooling out of his broken leg, his body already a crumpled pile of messed-up bones. The flames beside him made him perspire. He already looked like he was on the precipice of death. “His name is Clement ...”
“Where can I find him?”
“I’ve never met him.”
“How do you get your orders?”
“He calls.”
“Where were you supposed to take her?”
“To a warehouse. The address is ...” He struggled to hold on to consciousness. “Via di Casal Boccone ... 283.”
Constantine raised the gun and shot him in the head. “Thank you for your cooperation, asshole.” He turned to Rocco. “We take the warehouse now. Might already be tipped off.”
Rocco nodded in agreement. “What about Aurelia?”
“I’ll have the doctor look after her until we’re done.”
Rocco headed to the other car. “I’ll send a cleanup crew and meet you there.”
Constantine headed toward my Range Rover, and my heart gave a lurch when he neared. His enormous body came through the open doorway, and then he was there, his neck bent down to look at me. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
