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“Obviously!”
He pulled me away from the door. We huddled beneath the lower windows as the shooting tapered off then stopped. The silence was worse than the noise. It made the groans of pain audible.
Redmond moved forward as Palmira appeared in the doorway. She held her gun aimed in the air. Blood splattered her shirt and matted her hair.
“Got them,” she said.
“Anyone alive?”
“Two. One’s bleeding out though.”
“Bring me to him.” He went up the stoop and inside.
I hesitated, but followed.
I didn’t want to see the interior. I knew what I’d find. Blood splattered the walls and drenched the floor. Bodies were scattered all over, each of the attackers shot to death, shredded and mangled. Some of Redmond’s men were dead too—likely the men originally inside, left as bait.
The plan was simple. Keep an eye on the safe house from across the street, wait for Chika to attack, and crush them. It’d taken Chika longer to show up then we’d planned, but she came all the same.
I knew she would. Chika couldn’t help herself. Redmond had wanted to comb the city for her inch by inch, but I convinced him to wait. He needed the rest, and there was no way she’d be able to resist the temptation to launch a surprise attack on her former safe haven.
Palmira led me and Redmond into the kitchen. Two men were propped up on chairs. One was pale and bleeding profusely from a wound in his leg and was only partly conscious; the other was awake, alive, and very angry.
Redmond slapped the cheeks of the dying man. He barely responded. “This one’s gone,” he said, turning his attention to the remaining soldier. “If you don’t want to end up like your friend, you should talk.”
The man stared back. He looked to be about forty, with a grizzled face and a scarred lip like someone had tried to bite it off. He wore black with a Kevlar vest, and he had the look of a man that was used to fighting and killing.
“Don’t matter,” he grunted, his voice like a grizzly. “You’ll end me either way.”
“Is that what Cosima said about me?”
“Cosima don’t know shit about you.” The man sneered at Redmond.
Redmond laughed. “Thank you for confirming who sent you.”
The soldiers grimaced like he’d been kicked in the guts. “Fucking bastard.”
“Don’t worry. It’s obvious Cosima was behind this. My only question is, did Chika Abarra plan this mission?”
The solider glared, but he nodded. “She did. The lying bitch said nobody would expect it.”
“She was wrong,” I said, forcing myself not to stare at the dead man. “She always did underestimate me.” Even after all this, the sight of a bloody corpse still twisted my guts. I thought I’d be stronger, but I’d spent my life in comfort and luxury, and wasn’t used to seeing men torn to pieces on the battlefield.
Redmond knelt down in front of the soldier with some difficulty. In the distance, sirens wailed.
“We’re running out of time,” Palmira commented absently.
“Get the men out. Have a car waiting.”
Palmira barked orders and began to clear the house.
Redmond stared into the soldier’s eyes. He didn’t move, and the man gazed, fear splashed across his face. He was trying to hide it, but I could smell the terror wafting off him like the coppery stink of blood.
“I’m going to let you go,” Redmond said softly. “All I ask is that you deliver Cosima a message.”
The soldier’s eyes widened. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not. I could kill you, but that’s the point? You’re one man.”
He glanced at me and licked his lips. “What’s the message?”
“Tell her I’m coming. Tell her I want Chika.”
“Is that all?”
Redmond stood. “That’s all. Will you do it?”
The sirens were getting louder.
“I’ll do it. You’re a bunch of fucked-up monsters, you know that? Playing with our lives like it’s nothing. Bet you’re going to make peace now, and all this was for nothing.”
“Probably.” Redmond took a knife from the kitchen drawer and cut the plastic cuffs tightened around the soldier’s wrists. He held the blade to the man’s throat before he could pull away. “But understand something. I may be a monster, but I earned that reputation. Fail to deliver and I will find you and I will kill you.”
“Understood.”
Redmond moved the knife away. The man got to his feet, rubbed his wrists, glanced at his dead comrade, then hurried out the back door. He disappeared into the night.
The sirens wailed.
Redmond took my arm gently and kissed my cheek. “You shouldn’t have come inside.”
“I had to see. I set this up.”
“It was a brilliant plan.”
“Why’d you let him go? He’ll tell Cosima what happened.”
“Good. I want her to know.”
“Why?”
He tugged me through the house. “Because I need her to understand that she’s going to lose.”
Palmira sat behind the wheel of a Range Rover. Redmond hurried and helped me into the back. He got in beside me and shut the door. Palmira sped off as the sirens seemed to envelope the block, the cops getting stuck behind the unmoving black vans.
