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I’m still not sure if this is good or bad. It seems good. “What do you mean?”
“According to Dada’s informant, the Brothers Grim, or I guess we can call him the Grim Brother now, believes that yourfriend,Sandesh, has a deeper connection to our mission than he actually does. In fact, he believes Sandesh to be the mastermind of his brother’s death.”
“Why the hell would he think that?”
“Apparently, he and Salma intercepted a shipment of women bound for Walid and the Americas the night before he helped you escape.”
Looks like Sandesh held back a little side mission. Not that it surprises me. Well, now that I think about it, I’m not surprised. Salmadidcall him away the night before my mission. And all the blood in Salma’s tent… That sad little infant body… I’d never asked.
“What’s the plan?” I can already guess. “Use Sandesh to flush out the traitor, dangle him in front of Walid as bait, and then, after he’s served his purpose, M-erase him?”
Momma sits up straighter. Offended? Good, because I’m not beating around the bush.
Leland puts a gentle hand on Momma’s raised shoulder.
She relaxes. “Justice. I am allowing Sandesh his memories so that he is aware of the threat and can defend himself and his charity.”
“How totally selfless of you.”
The clap as Momma brings angry hands together makes me jump. “Would you have me throw away the opportunity to flush out whoever betrayed you? Betrayed us? That person might now grow angry and careless, but will fear revealing more information to Walid, knowing that, doing so, will bring them more easily under our scrutiny. At the same time, I am giving Sandesh a chance to prove himself. Perhaps we can continue this business relationship.” Momma’s silk-surrounded gaze bores directly into me. “Can you say you have dealt as fairly with him?”
That hits home. Of course, she’s right. My mission—scratch that, mydirect actions—jeopardized his charity. And even knowing this, I’d left him alone to pick up the pieces while I came here to take on Walid and Momma.
Heartsick. That’s the only way to describe the feeling in my chest. Like my heart has a fever and chills, and is curled under the blanket of my chest, moaning in pain.Oh, Sandy, I’m so very sorry.
I school my features. “And you’re going to trust him? You’re going to allow him to know our secrets?”
Leland shrugs. “This wasn’t our choice.” His eyes accuse me.
There’s a sudden rush of blood to my cheeks as a wave of cold dread settles into my stomach.
Leland’s intense stare seems to weigh me—and not just me, but my thoughts and emotions. He smirks. “Besides, trust won’t be an issue. First, because he has more to lose than us. Second, because you are going to stick to him like glue. And third, because he’s being brought here to be tagged.”
No way. “He’s agreed to have a GPS implanted under his skin?”
Leland waves a hand dismissively. “We expect you’ll handle that minor detail.”
28
SANDESH
The petite redhead with the stiff and fiery grin, a stiff and fiery bun, and a glare so stiff and fiery it could smelt iron, leans over the desk separating us. “I’m not messing around here, big guy.”
As if she needs to tell me that. Under her black business jacket, she has a Beretta Tomcat. A tiny little thing that easily hides its real potential for danger. Telling.
We’ve been in this windowless, colorless, almost airless ten-by-ten room for hours. Annoying as hell, considering Victor pulled some major strings to get me a seat on a VIP jet from Israel to D.C. and I’d planned on beating Justice back here. Almost made it until Red appeared at the private airport and had ordered me to get into a limo.
Knowing her to be Gracie, Justice’s sister, I did. I’d thought she’d take me to Justice or Mukta. I didn’t think she’d bring me here and interrogate me.
My neck hurts. My ass hurts. And I’m finally more pissed off at this situation then worried about Justice. Is this the way the Parish family treats business partners? They sit them at an Amish-crafted wood table on a schoolmarm-straight wooden chair, while accusing fluorescent lights glare down at them?
“As I told you, I’m not answering any more of your questions until you tell me where Justice is.” I’d also like to know whereIam. Though I have a reasonable guess. After I’d agreed to being blindfolded and going with her—agreeing seemed a big deal to her—it’d taken us four hours to get here. The Mantua Academy is around three and a half hours from D.C.
Where else would they take me?
The only issue with this conclusion is that the limo had driven downhill at the end of our drive, like into an underground garage. After that, we’d ridden in an elevator that had felt more like a ride at an amusement park.
So, I’m deep underground, which is confirmed by the muffled feeling of being surrounded by earth. Could there be an area on campus way below ground? I have no clue, and I’m tired of going over this detail in my own mind. I sit back and stretch because Gracie and I are at an impasse.
