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“Not quite, but that’s okay.”
“Can I help?” Brent asked as he approached.
“Pick her up and put her in the front seat. She’ll have more leg room.”
“Sure thing,” Brent replied, bending down and effortlessly scooping her up.
Rising to his feet and following them to the Cadillac sedan, Marco saw the coming hours like a Grandmaster studying a chess board. In spite of Steph’s idea to dissuade Oleg, the conversation in the meeting room ensured the Zeppelin brothers would attack.
But Marco was confident the evil brothers would be trapped in checkmate and led away in handcuffs—or loaded into an ambulance for delivery to the coroner.
Chapter 33
Jumping out the moment the sedan stopped at the front door, Marco lifted Steph from the front seat and hurried her inside to the warm, private lounge. He was gently removing her boots when Brent entered carrying a bucket of ice. Leaving him to tend to her injuries, Marco moved swiftly to the wine cellar, walking in to find Joe holding a pair of garden pruners and leaning menacingly over Stu. The traitor was bound to a chair and sweating profusely.
“He won’t tell me a fucking thing,” Joe snarled, “so he’s going to lose a finger. Then maybe he’ll talk.”
“Don’t bother,” Marco declared. “I already know what’s going on.”
“Seems like it’s your lucky day,” Joe sneered, looming over Stu, “but then again, it’s not over yet.”
Panting and wide-eyed, Stu darted his eyes to Marco.
“I don’t know what he’s talking about, Mr. Moretti. I swear I don’t know anything about the Zeppelin brothers.”
“Now you’re treating me like a fool,” Marco growled. “That’s not a good idea. You were going to disable the generators, then text Oleg when you were ready to cut the compound’s power at the main board.”
“How…?” Stu gasped, his shocked face betraying his guilt.
“How do I know? That’s none of your fucking business,” Marco barked. “Will Oleg’s soldiers climb the wall at the back of the grounds, or are they planning a frontal assault? Answer me and you’ll keep your cock. That’s called the third letter first, though you probably don’t know what that means.”
“Uh… n-no.”
“Three seconds, or Joe starts cutting your family jewels,” Marco warned, his voice low and deep as Joe unzipped Stu’s fly. “One—two—”
“Stop!” Stu shouted. “There are two rope ladders draped over the wall behind the topiaries.”
“How many men?”
“I don’t know, I swear! Oleg just said his men. He didn’t say a number.”
“Where’s the phone you’ve been using?”
Stu hesitated.
“You have one second left. Joe, are you ready with those pruners?”
“Behind that crate in the corner,” Stu screamed. “The one with the champagne. Fuck.”
Joe strode across the room to retrieve the phone.
“I found it, boss,” Joe declared, bending over the wooden box and picking it up.
“Stu, bearing in mind you just used your last second,” Marco said threateningly as Joe hurried back and handed him the phone, “what’s the code?”
“Oleg123,” Stu replied hastily.
Pressing the numbers, the phone unlocked and Marco did a quick scan of the texts.
