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“Mhmm.” Ice nodded.
“Is it?” Wrath turned on Dave, but Stone gave the assassin a death glare and Wrath sat back. Ice got it, nobody wanted to fuck with Stone. Unless they had a death wish.
“In answer to your question, Wrath, yes, this is the same man who caged Echo, Fisher, and Rogue,” Dave said.
“Who was it?” Wrath practically spat the words out and clenched his fists on the table.
Dave didn’t look away from Wrath. “I want you to remember what I said. If we kill him without knowing where those facilities are, those children will die.”
“I remember,” Wrath snarled.
“It’s Solomon.”
Wrath slammed up from the table and forks and plates rattled. Ice lunged to his feet. When Wrath stalked out of the room, Ice hurried in his direction.
“Give me five minutes,” Ice called back to Dave, and the SecDef nodded.
“Fifteen-minute break. Finish eating, use the restroom, stretch your legs if you need it, and then come back ready to make a plan,” Dave ordered.
Ice didn’t wait to hear anything more. When he caught up to Wrath, the assassin was sitting at the bottom of the large grand staircase, head bent, elbows on his knees, staring at his hands.
Ice took a seat on the step next to him.
“You’re not going to go off and kill him, are you?” Ice asked.
“I want to.” Wrath closed his eyes and then popped them open. “When I charged from that table, he was a dead man. But I can’t do that to little kids, you know?”
“I do,” Ice said, gripping Wrath’s shoulder firmly.
“He had Rogue,” Wrath croaked. “As a little boy, he had Rogue. I’ve seen a bit of the scars on his wrists and forearms, but I don’t know how many there are nor what was done.”
Ice stayed quiet. His heart told him, Rogue had been given the same fucked up treatment as Echo.
“Do you know how much he tortured them?” Wrath’s voice turned raw, the question ragged.
When Ice didn’t answer, Wrath held his eyes for a long moment and then tipped his head back and gazed up at the ceiling.
All Ice could do was make the only promise he could.
“We’re going to kill that son of a bitch the minute we find all the facilities.”
The next night, and probably a couple of hours prior to daylight, a pinging sound came from the front of Echo’s cage.
He feigned sleep.
The person tapping a small rock against the metal was someone new. Someone he’d never seen before and he waited, watching through his lashes when the kid, who couldn’t have been more than twenty, if that, stood indecisive.
“Hey,” the kid whispered.
“He’s sleeping, Cash,” the bossy twin said.
“I don’t care. I heard he’s one of the originals.”
“Yeah?” The twin’s tone changed to hopeful.
Echo stayed still. He’d heard from Solomon that he, Rogue, and Fisher were the original three, but he didn’t know it was a thing.
“Yeah, they’re legends.”
