Lachlan aims at the door.‘Can’t be one without the other.’
He’s waiting for them to bottleneck, but they never do.
Instead, they throw in gas.
Lachlan should have expected it.
‘Fuck,’ he utters, scrambling for an oxygen tank and a mask, can’t fuckingsee, the gas is too thick, spreads too fast.He’s already feeling it.Fuck, fuck, fuck, this is bad, but they wouldn’t use gas if they didn’t want them alive.
‘Ro,’ he slurs, hands numb.‘S-stay… calm when… when… they…’
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Twelve is better.
Yes, twelve hours would definitely have been better.
Lachlan must tell Danya he was right when he sees him.
‘He’s fading again.Wake him.’
Blistering agony violently tears Lachlan from the peace of darkness.He chokes on his own breath, tastes blood, bodyseizing.
Electrocution is really fucking painful.
His hands are tied tightly behind his back.
They have him on a chair.
There’s rope around his middle.
They’re using tasers, he can tell from the harsh click-bite of the voltage.
His tongue is sore from where he’s bitten it too hard.
Lachlan tastesmetal.
The pain vanishes, but his nerves are torn to shreds, lungs still spasming.
‘That’s better,’ a voice says, accent familiar.‘Let’s try something different.’
There’s glass absolutelyeverywhere.What’s left of the mansion is a skeletal ruin.The sun is beating down hard and after the rain last night, it kicks up tremendous humidity.When Lachlan cranes around awkwardly, he sees that he’s right on the edge of the pool, and then his breath catches hard.
The swimming pool is full of bodies, the water ruby red.
The staff.Allthe staff, even Paola.Kessler is among them, face down.
‘Roman,’ he utters, terrified.
‘The boy’s not in there,’ the man tells Lachlan.‘Roman Olek Sorrenko is an HVT just like his dad, you know that.Too valuable to kill outright.’
Lachlan takes in his surroundings.
Uniformed units are dragging furniture outside and gathering supplies.Someone has already started organising medical gear across a dining table while others discuss watch rotations.The man before him is younger than Mason Fenwick but he has the look of him, no doubt.
‘You look just like your brother,’ Lachlan states dispassionately.
The man smiles coldly.‘Craig Fenwick.’
