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But Max hasn’t even flinched. Hasn’t said a word. I pull myself together and keep doing the same. Van, next to me, is also silent. All of us just wait and watch.
Chuckles’ smirk falters at the lack of response. He pulls back a little and gives me a slow up and down. When he speaks again, the taunting edge is gone from his tone.
“But say I’m feeling generous, maybe I let one of you walk away. Who’s it gonna be?” His gaze ticks between us. “Time to show where your loyalties really lie. First one to flip gets to live.”
None of us say a damn word.
Chuckles laughs, a harsh grating sound that belies his nickname. “Loyal to the end, eh? Can’t say I’m surprised.” He pulls a pistol from inside his jacket and sighs theatrically. “Just means there’s no reason to keep you around anymore.”
And I feel my lips curve into a grin.
Chuckles pauses, brow knitting. “The hell you smiling about?”
The grin widens. “Oh, just appreciating the irony.”
The goons around the edges exchange confused glances. Chuckles’ eyes narrow. “You think this is funny?”
“No, it’s not funny.” I meet his glare evenly. “It’s pathetic. That you morons are so goddamn arrogant you never stopped to wonder if strolling into an ambush was part ofmyplan.”
Chuckles’ face reddens, but before he can spit back a retort, I press on.
“See, I figured there was a good chance your boys would be waiting here, but what I really wanted? Wasyou, Chuckles.”
From the corner of my eye, I see a PacSyn soldier drop.
Then another, over in the shadows, then another—
Any second now, eventheseunobservant fucks are going to realize they’re being picked off one by one. So before they do, I rear back and headbutt the fuck out of Charles Moran.
He falls back, a crimson spray bursting from his nose as he cries out.
For a split second, the PacSyn thugs stand frozen, long enough for Max, Van and me to hit the ground. Because then the real pandemonium erupts, as a lithe figure drops down from a nearby shipping container in a whirl of blades.
Moving with almost inhuman speed, he slices through the rest of Chuckles’ men in a lethal ballet, punctuated by stray, useless shots from their guns. Arterial blood fountains, coupled with gurgling cries. In seconds, the remaining five are motionless, bloodied heaps on the concrete.
With an elegant twirl, Julian Castellani flicks the last man’s blood from his knives and turns to face us with a happy smile. “Pedretti! It’s good to see you.”
Chuckles Moran, huddled on the ground with blood soaking down the front of his shirt, has gone gray. “You,” he gasps, staring at Julian.
Julian turns those strange pale eyes on Chuckles. “I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced. But I shall certainly be getting to know youverywell in the near future.”
Chuckles makes a strangled noise, staring in fear.
“Little help, Julian?” Max says, getting back to his feet awkwardly. I follow suit; it’s tough with my hands bound like they are, but Julian comes over and slashes through our bonds one by one. “Apologies for the delay in my arrival,” Julian says as he works. “I really did do my very best to be on time.”
I grimace as the blood returning to my fingers starts them stinging, and try to work some life back into my numb hands. “Your timing’s pretty great if you ask me,” I tell him. “Thanks for the assist.”
“Oh, my absolute pleasure. I miss this sort of fun. But I’m afraid Ididmake rather a mess for your cleaners.” Julian prods one of the PacSyn corpses with the toe of his shoe, wrinkling his nose at the leaking gore. “I trust the remainder of your operation proceeds smoothly?”
I frown at the implication. If he’s asking, that means... “Wait, Tank and Jazz aren’t with you?”
“They didn’t show up at the rendezvous. Hence my being a touch late. I waited as long as I could, but…” He shrugs.
I exchange an anxious look with Max. The others must have run into complications. Images of their bloodied and broken bodies flare through my mind.
No. I can’t think like that. They’re capable, they knew the plan. They were supposed to cut the lights and the alarms, then meet up with Julian. Something must have held them up, that’s all.
“I need to find my people,” I tell Julian. “Can I trust you to escort this asshole to the perimeter? You’ll find Marty G there with a few of his men, waiting with a car.”
