She’s scared. I hate it, but can’t process now. I have to move.
“I’ll whistle once when it’s clear,” I tell her. “Until then, you don’t move. Anyone but me comes at you, your job is to pull the trigger.”
I leave her in the dark, one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But I can’t hunt effectively with her. So I focus.
Listening.
It takes no time to find him. I circle around silently, watching his shadow through the trees.
This guy’s not only a piece of shit, he’s got terrible situational awareness.
He takes his pack off, lays down his gun, humming to himself as he unzips his pants.
“Pssst,” I hiss as he takes a leak.
The stream cuts off. His head pivots, but when I don’t move, he mutters something and goes back to pissing.
He’s still got his dick in his hands when I put him in a headlock.
For a satisfying moment he’s too shocked to even register what’s happened.
“Who you looking for?” I snarl, tightening my hold.
“No one,” he whines. “Let me go. I promise?—”
His next sound is a gasp.
“You like playing in the dark, hunting innocent women?”
He’s pissing again. The splatter on his boots this time.
“No. I mean… yes. Is that what you want me to say? I’ll say anything.”
“Who organizes the hunt, the gambling?”
He gulps, the knob of his Adam’s apple bobbing against my arm. “Some guy in another country.”
I punch him in the kidney. “Be specific.”
“I… I don’t know.” He gasps, whining in pain. “It’s all handled in crypto. I’ll pay you. Just let me go and I’ll drop a million in Crypto right now. I’ve got my phone.”
When I lift him off his feet, I growl in his ear. “Give me a name.”
“No one knows his name. They call him Apocalypse. I paid some company.”
The intel adds up, worse by the minute.
“What is Vesuvius’s job?”
He claws at my arm. “Can’t breathe. Please…”
When I let up a fraction, he hisses in a breath. Taking several gulps before he can speak.
“Christ. You’re insane. Vesuvius is just one of the game show hosts.”
Game show.
“It’s just a fucking game to you?”
