Chapter 52
MMy team is talking, but their voices are background sounds to me.
There is a ringing in my ears as I clasp my hands together and hold them underneath my chin.
My leg is bouncing as I can’t seem to calm the fuck down.
In my wicked life as an assassin, I have learned that stealth and staying calm are the elixir to a long life.
All my hits were calculated and well-thought-out, but now?
At this moment, the ground is breaking underneath me, and it’s swallowing me whole.
“M,” I hear someone say. “You have to talk to us.” I ignore the person standing behind me. This is complete bullsh—
Slap.
The sharp sting of the back of a hand snaps me out of my state, and I’m grateful for whoever did this. I look up and see Sara standing there, arms crossed, fucking angry.
“You stupid fucking asshole. Snap out of it! Lana is missing, and you are here sulking like a baby. Every minute that she is gone, we are losing precious time!” Sara’s voice is usually low and tight; now it’s booming off the walls.
Every syllable is bitten off because she doesn’t have any patience for softness right now.
I want to look down, and with that slight movement, I hear a gun clicking. Sara is pointing a gun at me.
“Intelligence is a rare commodity these days, and you don’t collect any antiques, apparently.” Adrenaline is tightening her throat, giving her voice that gravelly, “don’t test me” quality. And I have learned that women are not to be fucked with.
But she is right. I need to snap out of it.
I stand up and look at my team, who are all standing up too.
“We need to get to the bottom of this.” I guide them toward my kitchen table, and we sit down. Josh is listening intently, Oliver is twisting a knife in his hand, Sara still has her gun in her hands, and Adam has that dangerous glint in his eye.
Carnage.
“Lana was last seen at Emin’s house. Where is he, and where is our guy?” I ask them. Josh clears his throat.
“I sent him back home. He is safe. But he did provide some valuable information.”
“Proceed.”
“Lana was at the house for two hours, and our guy confirms that. He had a watchful eye on the garden where the henhouse is, and he confirms that she was there the entire time.” Josh purses his lips together because he knows I’m getting even angrier.
Incompetence isn’t something I tolerate.
“After two hours, Emin’s landline started ringing, and she went in. ”
“So, what? She didn’t come back out?” I inquire.
“That’s the thing, he doesn’t know. While he was watching her, an officer approached him. He asked him if he was looking for something, and then they chatted for a bit. He only took his eyes off Lana for three minutes.”
Three. Whole. Fucking. Minutes.
Three minutes in our world can be the difference between life and death.
“An officer? In that part of town?” I ask him as I stop bouncing my leg. I’m locked in for this information.
“Yeah,” Adam interjects. “That doesn’t sound right. That part of town is shitty, yes, but it has almost no crime.”
“I believe the officer wasn’t a real man of the law. It was someone—”
“On Leon’s payroll. Fuck!” I stand up and take a fucking vase I didn’t even know I had, and smash it against the floor.
Heat rises fast—anger, frustration, humiliation, all tangled together because I should have been a step ahead.
Just when I think that I am going to nail this asshole, he does it fucking again.
“M, stop!” Josh screams at me. I stare at the broken pieces on the floor, and it mirrors how I feel—broken. My pulse spikes with that predatory, restless energy, the kind that makes my hands curl into fists because Leon is playing me like I’m predictable.
I’m supposed to be the monster they warn you about, not the other way around.
I sit back down and look at Sara—the most level-headed one.
“How the fuck does he keep doing this? It’s like he knows our every move.”
“I don’t know. But let’s focus on finding Lana. M—” I nod at her, “—do you have Emin’s phone number?” I grab my phone and dial Lana’s friend. After the third ring, he picks up.
“M, I don’t know where she is. Please find her!” I don’t have time to listen to his pleas, I need motherfucking facts.
“Emin, did she say if she was going to go somewhere after she built that fucking thing for your chickens?” I ask him.
“No, she said that she was going to come straight to you.”
“Emin, think fucking hard. Was there anything out of the ordinary? Did you notice anything?” I’m holding the phone like my life depends on it. Lana does, and that makes all the difference in the world.
“Well, there was something weird. Not with her, but at my house.”
“What?” I ask through gritted teeth. The whole table has gone silent.
“I got mail while she was gone, but the postman doesn’t come around at that hour.”
“Grab your fucking mail right now and tell me what it says on there.” I want to ask him why he didn’t open it sooner, but that would be precious time wasted. After a minute, Emin returns to the phone.
“It’s an invitation to a party.”
“Emin! What does the invitation say?” My frustration is about to explode, and I might murder Emin over the fucking phone.
“That I’m invited to the Hummingbird Ball at Inganno, tonight. What the fuck does that even mean?”
“I've got to go. I’m getting her back.” I hang up before he can respond. My ears were ringing earlier; now it’s quiet.
“I know where she is.”
“Where?” Oliver asks, and I see everyone reaching for their keys—ready to go.
“Inganno. It’s an upscale Italian restaurant just outside of Sarajevo.”
“Didn’t we have a job there?” Oliver asks me.
“We did, almost a year ago. Nole, the owner, asked us to kill his business partner. I never got to meet him, though.”
“M, what’s the name of the owner?” Sara asks, looking at me with a puzzled expression.
“Nole Cavicorm. Apparently, a tough motherfucker to get to.”
“M, listen to me carefully.” All eyes are on Sara now. “Rearrange the letters, it’s a fucking anagram!” I process the information, and my brain finally decides to start working. When I look at the rest of the team, they know what Sara was thinking about.
Leon Osmanovic.
“I did a fucking job for Lana’s father a fucking year ago?
That fucker has been watching me for God knows how long!
” I get my fucking coat and put on shoes, indicating to the others that they must do the same and follow my orders.
We are walking toward my second apartment.
At that apartment, I have weapons stored so I can be prepared every-fucking-where at any-fucking-time.
We all grab an earpiece and our choice of weapon.
Josh chooses a gun with a silencer.
Sara grabs two knives and a shotgun.
Oliver helps himself to a gun and one hand grenade.
Adam goes for a sniper rifle.
And me? I grab an assault rifle, along with a machete.
We are all ready to inflict some severe pain.
“Listen, what we are doing is on pure instinct. Nothing is planned, and maybe one of us will get hurt. Leon has proven that he is not to be trifled with.” I put intent on every word because I want my team to understand that this is out of the ordinary.
“Then he hasn’t met us. Let’s fucking go and get our girl back,” Oliver says in a determined tone. I love how my entire team has grown to like Lana.
“He is right.” I point to Adam and Sara. “You two are coming with me. Oliver, Josh, follow us.” Like a well-coordinated machine, they do as they are told. Oliver is right, Leon hasn’t met us. But he is about to.
He is going to see what loyalty really looks like.