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As Blake moves back to the sofa, Sorina runs to me, hugging me hard. I kiss her hair, and silently, with unshed tears in her eyes, she goes back to sit between Blake and Agent Morris. Dresden walks to Shannon, leans down, and kisses her gently.
“Hurry back,” she says in a strained voice.
“I will, mein schatz.”
“Time to go, Python.”
He turns to me smiling. “Let’s go kill some shit.”
A helicopter bearing the name ‘Sand Snake II’ on the side hovers in the middle of the yard, a ladder thrown from the side. Dresden and I climb up and sit with two other Interpol agents. I pull the fax from my jacket before putting the cans over my ears.
“Where are we heading, Viper?” the pilot sounds in my ears.
“Here are the coordinates. Just outside Lovingston, Virginia. Small ring. Six buyers, fifteen slaves, twenty Taurus members. The main target is Mophat Garzzim.”
The helicopter soars through the air. Dresden stares out over the clouds. His jaw is tense, his fists clenching and unclenching in his lap.
“You okay?”
He turns toward me. “Are you?”
I shrug, reaching up to tighten my ponytail. “I’ll be better when these fuckers are dead and we’re on our way home.”
He laughs. “Well, thankfully, we’ve got this down to an art now.”
“Yep.”
We both pull our cans off and insert our earbuds. Thirty-two deaths to add to a very long list of justifiable murders.
This is what I’m good at.
6
~Lily~
“Here are the extra supplies you might need,” one of the agents says, sliding a small duffle bag to Dresden.
He unzips it, shuffles the contents around and nods to the agent. “Thanks.”
They drop two ropes out the side and hand us gloves. We slide them on, and I peek out the helicopter’s opening.
“You all don’t do harnesses, do ya?”
I shake my head, and lay prone, sliding backward, gripping the rope. Dresden follows. Once we’re both dangling, I wrap my leg around it and nod. Easily, we descend. It’s at least seventy, maybe eighty feet. I sigh in relief when my feet touch the ground again.
The ropes are pulled up and the helicopter heads south, flying low. They’ll wait in a nearby field until we give them a sign to be picked up. Moving to the main door, Dresden pulls a small blueprint from the duffle bag.
“This is the only door in or out. To the right is the door leading to the back where the girls and Taurus will be. Six doors on the left will each hold a buyer and their bodyguard. Sleep grenades on the buyers, we’ll handle them last.”
Quietly, he picks the lock on the front door and pulls it open. The glasses illuminate the pitch-black hallway as the door closes behind us. Dresden pulls a rope from the duffle before slinging it over his shoulder.
We move to the far-left end of the hallway. Silently opening the first door, I throw in a sleep gas grenade. Voices erupt inside for a moment, but fall, ending with two thuds. Dresden ties the rope to the handle. We move along and do this to each room until all six have been hit with a grenade and the handles tied together. At the last door, he runs the rope to the main door and secures it. No one can get in or out now without cutting the rope, and they’ll have to go through us to do it.
“And that, ladies and gents, is how you subdue and secure buyers until it’s their turn to die,” Dresden whispers, knowing the microphones are sensitive enough to pick up his voice.
I shake my head at his audacity. “Don’t narrate this for my daughter, Python.”
He chuckles and shrugs.
