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“I’m glad we could be of assistance…” I say, allowing my voice to trail off as I study him.
Vasko looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to continue, but I remain silent. We’re not here for small talk. We have one goal and that is to find out where Soren’s keeping Cyn, and according to Vasko he knows a man who might have some information. It’s the sole reason we travelled here, given it’s the only lead we’ve had. Keeping my gaze pinned on Vasko, I wait.
“I was under the impression there’d be more of you," he eventually says.
It's a seemingly innocuous comment but one which raises my hackles nonetheless. “And why would that be?” I fire back quickly, noticing the way Vasko keeps looking nervously over my shoulder.
“Something interesting out there, mate?” Beast asks, catching on.
I know he's thinking the same thing too. Vasko’s on edge. There’s a tenseness around his shoulders and a look of uncertainty in his eyes. Granted, it’s not everyday you’re faced with four of the most well known criminals in Europe, but this isn’t a healthy fear he’s showing, this is a jittery kind of fear. The kind that tells me he’s up to something we’re not going to like.
Which is just as well that Jakub, Konrad and Leon took a different route to Vasko's villa, parking in a dirt track that leads to the fifteen acres of land backing onto his villa. Vasko might be a small-time criminal trading mainly in fake handbags, but it pays to be cautious.
“You are in search of the Skull Brotherhood,” he continues, looking between us. “I assumed by our very brief conversation they had something of value to you.”
“That assumption would be correct,” I confirm.
“I also know Soren has quite an army,” he adds evenly, though I don’t like the hint of a smirk playing about his lips.
“And your point?” Beast asks, as Carrick and Lorcan exchange looks, picking up on the sudden rising tension.
“There are only four of you and many of them,” Vasko points out, picking up a croquette and taking a bite, his gaze smouldering with arrogance. I don’t like it.
“Our allies are following up another lead in France,” Lorcan lies, grabbing a piece of bread and dipping it into olive oil, then popping it into his mouth and chewing slowly. “There was no need for us all to come and visit you.”
“Ah yes, that seems a sensible option,” Vasko muses, patting his mouth with a napkin. “Better to widen the net, hmm?”
“Your contact,” Carrick prompts, shifting the conversation back in the right direction. “You said he might have some information about the Skull Brotherhood’s whereabouts.”
“He does," Vasko replies, passing around the tray of tapas.
I shake my head. I can’t stomach food right now. Every day, every hour, every fucking minute that goes by is just more time for Soren to hurt Cyn, just the thought makes me want to puke.
“So where is he?” Beast asks, selecting a green olive stuffed with minced chorizo, and taking a bite. “Because as nice as it is to sit here and eat tapas, we’ve got to be getting on.”
Vasko rests his glass of wine on the table, his fingers gripping the stem. “Señor Medina is nervous to share what he knows. The Skull Brotherhood is feared by many, and as you know their leader, Soren, is vicious.”
“I don't care how nervous he is. If he wants to live, then hewilltell us everything,” I reply evenly, forcing myself to remain as calm, and in control as possible. Which is no easy feat when the life of the woman you love is on the line.
“It may take some coaxing to get the information you want from him,” he continues, oblivious to my inner turmoil.
“Need I remind you that we travelled all this way because you said you had a lead,” I snap, unable to stop the rush of anger rising up my chest. “If coming here turns out to be a wild goose chase then I'll have no issue slitting your throat and feeding your body to those nice, fat pigs on that farm three miles down the road. Understand?"
Vasko flinches at the threat, colour draining from his face. “Excuse me, I meant no disrespect. I just meant that it will be a difficult conversation, he might be hesitant at first.”
Beast snorts. “Do you know what I do best?”
Vasko looks between us. “You’re a cage fighter, yes?”
“I was. Those days are behind me now,” he replies, leaning forward in his seat and taking another long swig of his beer before resting it on the table and cracking his knuckles.
“You’re retired?”
“From fighting in the cage? Yes. But don't worry, I'll get the fucker squealing. It’s kind of my forte,” he says, winking at Vasko before popping a slice of pepperoni in his mouth. “Hmm, fuck that's good.”
"He's an old man..." Vasko says, a little horrified. "That kind of persuasion won't be necessary."
“Then he’s got nothing to worry about, has he?” Beast adds with a grin that is less than reassuring.
