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Not now.
Not ever.
“Sir?” the man on the other end of the line says.
It’s the driver I sent to the new house.
I make my way downstairs with quick steps. “What did you find?”
“We need to call an ambulance to the new house. Roch is here. He’s been shot, but he’s alive.”
ChapterTwenty-Seven
Angelo
“What?” I stop dead at the bottom of the staircase. “Roch?”
“Yes, sir. He’s in bad shape, but he has a pulse.”
I start walking again, my steps powered with urgency. “Where’s he been shot?”
“In the stomach. I don’t see any other wounds.”
“Forget an ambulance. I’ll send a chopper from Bastia. They’ll need to operate, and they don’t have a theater here.”
“Yes, sir. You’ll want to come and see this for yourself. There are bodies.”
“Ours or theirs?”
“Theirs.”
I gnash my teeth. “Who were they?”
“Marziale’s men. They have the cross and dagger tattoo on their wrists.”
“None of them has the tattoo on his hand?”
“No, sir. Marziale isn’t one of them.”
“Call in the cleanup team but tell them not to touch anything until I get there,” I say under my breath, making sure the front staff don’t hear me.
“Yes, sir.”
“What about our men?”
“We don’t know yet. There’s no sign of them. The others just left to search the forest.”
“I’ll be there in half an hour,” I say before hanging up.
The receptionist licks her lips in a nervous gesture as I stop at her desk.
“Give me the paperwork,” I say. “I’ll complete everything and drop it off later.”
“I’m afraid—”
“I don’t have time for this.”
She thrusts a file at me.
