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“No. We have a couple more coming. One of them wanted to wait until all the others arrived. He’s a bit of a recluse and dislikes crowds immensely. He’s not happy with being required to be present to bid.” Omar rolled his eyes. “Some clients can be such prima donnas.”
Psychopaths had a tendency to want things their own way. He didn’t bother to remind Omar that his last client had been very much in that category, too.
A low chime sounded, indicating that the attendees should take their seats. As several people began to do just that, Omar said, “I must take my leave now. I likely won’t get to talk with you in private for a while.” He held out his hand for another handshake.
With a grim smile, Humphrey complied. “A pleasure doing business with you, Omar.”
“And you as well, my friend. Please don’t be a stranger.”
Ash watched as Omar made his way toward the stage. The room had grown steadily quieter. The sound of a door opening and closing, followed by a small twittering of whispered voices, caught Ash’s attention. Barely allowing himself to breathe, Ash turned. Making his way toward an empty seat in the back was the man he wanted to see.
Carl Lang was an impressive-looking individual. Well over six feet tall, he had a silvery mane of thick hair, lightly tanned skin, and the physique of a professional athlete. Any one of the movie executives at the gala would likely be thrilled to cast him in a variety of movie roles. He had the kind of face and presence to play anything from a distinguished scholar to a Mafia kingpin. But Lang didn’t desire the adoration of millions of fans. He liked to kill. Period.
Ash had first learned of Lang several years ago when an entire village in West Africa became ill with a mysterious disease. By the time the virus had been identified, half the villagers had died. Carl Lang had not taken credit, but Ash’s sources in the intelligence community had no doubt that he was solely responsible. It had been Lang’s first major kill. Some speculated that the entire act had been an experiment to determine whether he’d enjoy watching people suffer. Unfortunately, he had.
Lang was suspected of a half-dozen more mass murders since then. All had been the result of bioweapons, but no law enforcement agency had any direct evidence to link Lang to the massacres. This would be the first time Lang would be caught red-handed purchasing a biological weapon.
“Thank you all for attending tonight’s special auction.” Omar’s slightly rushed words made Ash think he might be a bit nervous. Since he was standing in front of more than two dozen people who would kill without an ounce of compunction, Ash thought the nervousness understandable.
It was a crazy world, but at least, despite the heavy burden his heart carried, he was doing something to make it a little safer. That had to be good enough for now.
Chapter Thirty-Six
The instant they pulled up to the cabin, Jules knew she was in even more trouble than she’d feared. Only a few things triggered flashbacks for her. She had worked through the most obvious ones, but this was one she’d never been able to overcome. The additional facts that her hands were bound and she was at the mercy of a man she didn’t really know was causing all sorts of panic to race through her bloodstream.
“Listen”—she spoke fast because she didn’t know how long she had—“I’ll tell you what you need to know right here. Just, do not take me into that cabin. I won’t be able to handle it.”
“You handling anything is not my concern, Stone. Or would that be Jessie Diamond?”
Jules closed her eyes, concentrating on her breathing. They knew a lot more than she’d thought. Stupid not to realize that they’d gone through her room at headquarters. It would take an OZ tech person little time to crack her password and read her texts—specifically, the last one she’d received, which had given her the go-ahead to kill Ash.
Her response to the order would definitely not help her case.
“My name is Jules Stone. Jessie Diamond is an alias I used to manipulate Turner into giving me the job of infiltrating OZ to hurt Ash. But I would never hurt him.”
“Well, thanks for explaining everything so clearly, Jules. Now, let’s get inside and hear more of your lies.”
“I told you, I cannot…will not go into that cabin.”
“And I told you, I don’t care what you want.”
“Gideon.” Jazz’s worried voice caught her attention. “Maybe we can question her out here.”
Jules grasped the suggestion like a lifeline. “Yes. I’ll answer whatever you ask me right here.”
A man she didn’t recognize opened the door of the vehicle. “You need help?”
Jules’s heart rate sped up even more. They were going to let strangers question her? Take her inside a cabin, tie her up so that she was helpless, and…and…
Panic surged like an out-of-control wildfire. A scream erupted before she could suppress it. Pulling and tugging at the ties on her wrists, Jules screamed and cursed at the top of her lungs.
Hands grabbed her, pulled her out of the SUV. She broke the ties at her wrists and whirled around, kicking whomever was in her way. She felt an impact, knew she’d got
ten someone. She didn’t care who or why. She only knew there was no way in hell anyone was getting her into that cabin.
Hands reached for her again. Jules kicked, punched, slapped, and bit, doing everything she could to protect herself. This couldn’t happen again. It couldn’t. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Survival was her only focus.
People shouted, cursed. And then, as if she’d gone completely deaf, everything went silent. Out of that dark emptiness came laughter…that evil, evil laughter that penetrated her nightmares and taunted her. He’d said he’d never let her go, and he was right.
