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"You might be surprised," Finn pressed on, resisting the urge to clench his fists. "I think Helen and Dolores stumbled upon something they shouldn't have, or maybe they came to warn Joseline about what was happening in this castle. What her uncle was really up to after inheriting the castle years ago. How did Edward's father die again? A freak hunting accident? Seems about right."
"Bravo, Finn," Bryant sneered. "You've got it all figured out. But it doesn't matter. You're not leaving this room alive to tell anyone."
Finn's mind raced as the threat loomed over him. He had to stay focused and find a way to turn the tables on these criminals. His eyes drifted to the ceremonial daggers displayed next to a suit of plate armor, and a plan began to form.
"Tell me, Drake," Finn said, trying to stall for time. "Why go to all this trouble? Why not just run your twisted business quietly?"
"Ah, Mr. Wright," Drake chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "It seems you underestimate the grandiosity of men like us. It's all part of the thrill, you see. We get to enjoy the spoils as much as our clients." He looked at the three women lustfully.
"Joseline must have come to you to let you know Helen and Dolores were onto you, being a loyal Keatings and all. Then, you ordered Bryant here to silence them both," Finn said, his voice steely as he stared down the elderly man in the chair.
"Am I close, Bryant?" he asked, shifting his gaze to the fixer. Bryant's eyes flashed with anger, but he nodded curtly, confirming Finn's suspicions. "Yeah, you're right. But it doesn't matter, because you'll be joining those dead girls soon enough."
Finn couldn't let fear show on his face, so he masked it with a smirk. "I wouldn't be so sure about that. Backup is on the way."
Drake and Bryant exchanged amused glances before bursting into laughter. The sound was chilling, echoing throughout the opulent room. Finn felt sick. He realized they must have done something to Constable Mulberry, whom he had sent to get help earlier.
"Where is Mulberry? What did you do to him!?" Finn demanded, trying to keep the concern out of his voice.
"Ask Mulberry yourself," Bryant replied dismissively, his grin darkening.
Finn's mind raced as he processed the implications of Bryant's words.
The door creaked open, casting an ominous shadow across the plush room. Finn's heart sank as Constable Mulberry stumbled in, his eyes wide with fear. He trembled, unable to meet Finn's questioning gaze. With a sinking feeling, Finn realized that Mulberry had been compromised.
"Mulberry," he whispered, barely audible. "What did they do to you?"
"Th-they threatened my family, Finn," Mulberry stammered, tears welling in his eyes. "I had no choice."
"Damn it, Mulberry," Finn said, shaking his head in disbelief. The corruption ran deeper than he ever imagined.
Drake smirked at Finn's distress. "You see, Mr. Wright, even your allies can't be trusted. You're all alone here. I am the boss here. Bryant, I want you to go and take care of Amelia Winters and that other girl in the tunnel. They haven't escaped yet. Make sure they never leave those tunnels alive."
"Of course, boss," Bryant replied, his voice cold and emotionless. He turned to leave, but not before shooting Finn a sinister grin. He then exited through another door with two of the guards.
Finn's mind raced, his thoughts a whirlwind of strategy and desperation. He couldn't let anything happen to Amelia or the other girl. But how could he save them when he was surrounded on all sides by enemies?
"Mulberry, listen to me," Finn urged, trying to make eye contact. "You know this isn't right. You can still help us stop this madness."
Mulberry hesitated, his eyes darting between Finn and the dangerous men around him. His face contorted in anguish, torn between loyalty to his duty and the safety of his family.
"Can't you see, Mulberry?" Finn continued, his voice soft but urgent. "These people will never stop threatening your family, even if you do their bidding. We need to take them down together."
"Time's up, Finn," Drake taunted, his voice dripping with malice. "You've played your cards, and it seems they are all jokers."
"Game's not over yet," Finn muttered under his breath, his resolve hardening. If there was one thing he knew, it was that he wouldn't go down without a fight.
Finn's eyes moved around the room. He stared momentarily again at the collection of ceremonial daggers hanging on the wall beside a suit of armor. They gleamed dangerously in the dim light, and he knew they would have to suffice.
"Drake," Finn called out, drawing the old man's attention as he eyed the daggers. "You know, I've always found it funny how rich criminals like yourself love to grandstand. It's like you're not satisfied with just being evil; you have to put on a show too."
"Is that so?" Drake replied, unfazed by Finn's comment. "Well, if you're so eager for this to be over, why don't we get on with the killing?"
He waved his hand, and the two remaining guards began to raise their guns.
"Lets go!"
As soon as the words left his lips, Finn sprang into action. He leaped toward the suit of armor and grabbed two of the daggers from the wall, concealing himself behind the metal figure. The remaining guards realized what was happening and sprayed bullets in Finn's direction.
