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“Turned or tortured?” I say, lifting my eyebrows at Santiago
“Semantics,” he says with that vicious smile. “He spilled his guts right before O’Sullivan walked into your party.”
“Thanks for the warning… Even if itwasthirty minutes too late.”
“When we got to you it was all bodies and cops. Your casino is a fucking mess, by the way… Who’s idea was it to drive a tank into it?”
“Mine,” drawls Viper. “I wasn't happy with the colour scheme.”
There’s a rare flare of amusement on Santiago’s face. “Can you get the place up and running again?”
“Depends,” I say. “Can you help me find my daughter?”
Without answering, he switches his attention to Ada. “You remind me of my wife, Mrs…”
“Soon-to-be Lastra,” she finishes, making me smirk.
“—And I mean that as the greatest of compliments.” He clicks his tongue slowly, as if weighing up his decision. “We might have an idea where she is.”
Ada’s composure slips to reveal the true panic underneath. “Is she okay?”
“Care to share?” he says, glaring at Mario.
Mario doesn’t. A spew of Italian insults comes flying out, which earns him a brutal punch in the jaw from Grayson.
“O’Sullivan panicked when he found out that Semenov was dead.” He shakes his hand out before delivering another. “He instructed Mario to contact theBrigaziand move the delivery forward by three days before they figured out his control over the city was fucked. He offered him a cut of Semenov’s percentage for his trouble. It’s happening tonight.”
“How did you get theBrigazito agree to it, Mario?”
“Fuck you, Lastra, and fuck your lame bitch whore!”
He shuts up quickly when I drive the heel of my boot into his face and break his nose.
“Mario told them O’Sullivan had a ‘Gold’,” says Grayson. “A gift for them to take back to Eastern Europe. In trafficking terms, it means an underage girl who’s untouched. We’ve heard about a new ring in Bucharest that caters for that kind of shit. We assumed he’d taken a girl off the streets here, but if he has your daughter…”
Grayson doesn’t need to spell out the rest.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Ada starts shaking, so I pull her in close again, murmuring assurances that I’ll get our daughter back, even if I need to kill half of London to do so.
“When and where?” There’s no trace of humour in Viper’s voice anymore.
“There’s a new location for the exchange. It’s a cargo warehouse in the Port of Dover. The trucks are scheduled to arrive at midnight, but we’ll be tracking them from Calais. We have men on the ferry, and we have Border Agents on both sides of the Channel.”
“Our deal still stands, Lastra,” says Santiago, as Grayson hands him a knife. “Even after I said, ‘no waves’ and you brought me a fucking tsunami. I see you fighting for your family the same way I fight for mine, and that’s a battle that spills loyalty into every part of your life.” He spins the knife through his fingers and offers me the handle. “I believe the Italian was part of our agreement. We have no further use for him. There will be no more contact with theBrigaziuntil after the girls arrive in the cargo warehouse, which is where we’ll be waiting.”
With a nod, I accept our kind of handshake, taking the knife and sealing the deal. After tonight, three new flags will be flying over London’s underground.
I turn to ask Viper to escort Ada to one of the vehicles to wait for me there, but one look at her face and I know she’s not going anywhere. She sits with me in all things now, including revenge however bloody and protracted, and I love her all the more for it.
“There’s only room for onecapoin London, Mario.” Taking my time, I walk a slow circle around him, assessing which part of his body to dismember first.
I settle on his hands.
