"Well, first, my name is Brys. Second, thank you. I'd be dead if not for you."
He merely smiles. "Of course. You fought him most bravely."
And that's how I find myself in adifferentcar with adifferent,strange man. Now, though, we’re not running for our lives.
We're embarking on a rescue mission.
Stay alive, Jakob. I'm coming.
No, not like that.
Yet.
13
BAIT IN THE TRAP
JAKOB
I am a fool.
Pugli is a wily old fox. You don't stay ahead of international law enforcement for as long and as completely as he has by being easy to find. If it were possible for one untrained civilian to find and capture him, it would have happened by now.
Yet that's what I thought was going to happen. La-la-la, I'm Jakob Kasparek, I'm so cool, I can find Pugli's safe house, bypass his security detail, and make him pay for his crimes all by my-untrained-self.
That is most assuredlynotwhat happened.
I got into the house, cleared the living room and kitchen, and made it as far as the stairs to the upper story. Which is when I tripped a silent alarm via a hidden laser tripwire. I was immediately attacked by gunfire from the top of the stairs, which clarified for me that I’d walked right into a trap. Also, I'd forgotten the basement; guess who hadmoreguards hiding down there, ready and waiting for me to do exactly what I did? Thus, I found myself pinned down by gunfire from two directions with only one magazine for my rifle.
Maybe an operator like Lash could've fought his way out, if not accomplished the mission. Alas, I am not an operator. I tooka round high on my left side; it went straight through, which I think is a good thing as it means I don’t have a bullet lodged inside me somewhere, and it also didn’t bounce around a lot. Now, whether it hit any organs or not, I don't know. I know I’m losing blood, but they did pack the wound and cinch a bandage around me—none too gently, I might add.
I'm not feigning anything—I'm in a lot of pain, and I'm weak from blood loss. I'm just playing it up a bit, acting more severely wounded, weakened, and out of it than I am. It's the only play I have, at the moment. My worry is for Brys. She's impulsive and braver than she has any right to be, so I can see her trying to come in after me once she realizes something is amiss. I wish I'd called in Lash and the guys sooner, now that I'm shot and captive in the back of an SUV. Hubris prevented me.
We round a long, tight curve—a freeway onramp. I'm rolled against the side and onto my wound, which rips a long, low groan from my chest, not at all faked or exaggerated.
Getting shot fucking sucks, it turns out.
I know, I know, I'm Jakob Kasparek, I should be above such vulgarity. I usually am. I trained Isabel to speak with fluency, eloquence, and elegance, without swearing, because profanity is the mark of a small mind, and all that.
I’m starting to think I may have been full of shit.
We hit a massive pothole, which sends another jolt of agony through me.
"FUCK!" I snarl. And wouldn't you know it, a good curse does seem to help me manage the pain.
In the row ahead of me, Pugli chuckles. "Hurts, eh? Relish the suffering, Mr. Indigo. I have plans for you. Plans which shall make your current pain feel like the sweetest pleasure."
I ignore him; I believe him, but I'm just banking on the situation resolving…otherwise. In my favor, of course.
Pugli really does do an excellent job of filling the 'maniacal supervillain' role, though. Because he can't just leave it there. He has to monologue at me.
"You're not my primary target, of course." He twists in the seat, putting his back to the car door so he can direct his dead, zero-Kelvin gaze onto me; I've detected more humanity and warmth in the eyes of a reptile at the zoo. "You are merely bait."
This gets my attention, against my will. I let the momentum of a lane change roll me over so I can look him directly in the eye. “I’mbait?"
He smirks, an insidious and maleficent glitter in his eyes. "At this point, Mr. Indigo, you are merely a loose end. You possess evidence of my crimes. I do not debate this. But the evidence you possess is minor in comparison to the evidence your elusive compatriot Lash has in his possession."
Ah. Now I see. It's about Nicolae—it always has been. My Arrows have spent weeks hunting this asshole, dodging his thugs, getting in firefights…my club was destroyed, my home assaulted and compromised.
