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I drop him on the ground and kick him in the side until his body stops moving.
Then I turn to Kate.
“Are you okay?” I ask, holding a hand over the bullet wound.
She stares at Anton’s body, then turns to me.
“I’m okay. Thank you. Are you… you’re shot! We have to get you help!”
I test moving my arm; it hurts, but I can still lift it okay.
“I think it just hit muscle. I’ll be fine.” Taking out my phone, I ask Eyal, “What’s going on?”
“What the hell took so long? The authorities have surrounded the island. They want us to come out, unarmed.”
I sigh. I suppose our strike on the island didn’t go unnoticed.
“Why haven’t they stormed us?”
“I told them we have hostages,” said Eyal.
Technically, that’s kinda true — a few dozen guards and courtesans. But if anyone came here to save Merwin, Evo or Franco…
“Good work,” I tell Eyal. “Let’s hold them off until we figure this out.”
“Figure what out?” asks Kate. “Let’s tell them what happened! This can all be over.”
“They’ll throw us in jail for years while they sort all this out. I’m not going to let them take you from me.”
“You need a doctor!” she shouts. “Ingram, I can’t promise that this won’t be messy. I don’t know what will happen — but we’re not fighting our way out of this. Even if it were possible, we wouldn’t be fighting hired mercenaries — these are agents trying to put a stop to a terrorist group. If we hurt them, then we’d deserve to be in jail.”
It’s true — we can’t just write these people off. They’re doing what they think is right — not because they were hired.
Anton’s dead. We did what we came here to do. Kate will be okay. Isn’t that what matters? It’s the only thing.
“Eyal, tell them we surrender,” I say.
“Then what?”
“Then we surrender. Fighting won’t end well.”
“Surrender won’t end well either,” Eyal argues.
“It’s unavoidable. I’m sorry. You’re my friend and I’ll do what I can for you, I promise. I’ll take full responsibility for everything.”
Eyal laughs.
“I don’t think that’ll work. Ingram, it’s been an honor.”
“The honor has been mine. You running or fighting?” I ask.
“Running.”
“Then give Stanislaw and Henrik my best,” I say. “I owe all of you my life. I’ll try to make good on my debt, somehow.”
“It’s appreciated.”
The line goes quiet a moment. I wish I had more to offer him.
