Chapter 19 #4
I turn toward friend number two, the one who continues refusing to give me answers.
“Tell me everything you know about your employer.”
He stays silent. This time, he no longer plays brave, nor does he throw obscene words at me.
Drops of sweat run down his reddened face from the pain that, I assume, is echoing through his entire hand, beginning from the nail that is still bleeding heavily.
Just like his friend’s arm, which I allow to breathe for a moment, even though he seems to be the main source of information today.
Since the “fake Albanian” continues to stay silent, I settle for turning him into the sacrificial element that will help me truly terrify the other one.
I return to the table and pick up a small torch, which I ignite in front of him. His eyes widen with horror, and his body begins to tremble. The first Englishman reacts the same way.
“Suka!” I hear from behind me, and I turn toward the three of them only to see Sasha with his fingers shoved into his mouth.
I frown. A little more and he will fit his whole fist in there.
“A popcorn shell got stuck between my fucking molars,” he yells, angry, when he sees my questioning look.
I let out a slow breath, holding on to my cold composure. “Worth remembering that popcorn can also be considered a torture method.”
But I return to the man in front of me.
“I’m not going to burn your eyes, because I want you to see everything I’m about to do next,” I say casually. “But I’m sure you won’t be needing your cock any time soon. Or... ever.”
I move the flame toward the piece of flesh, and the real screams begin.
Art.
Beside us, his colleague begins to cry from terror.
“Tell me everything you know.”
He screams and screams while the skin melts, and the heavy smell of burned flesh spreads around us.
He passes out from the pain, but I signal Dima, who immediately throws a bucket of water and ice over his entire body, jolting him awake.
He screams again, tears reddening his eyes, saliva running between his lips twisted with pain.
He needs a few moments to recover, otherwise I risk him passing out completely, and then he will be useless to me. So, I move to the other one, raising the torch flame in front of him.
“Tell me everything you know about the one who hired you,” I repeat the question to him too.
“I don’t know who he was,” he says quickly, his voice trembling with terror.
“Anonymous. Lots of money. I only followed orders. There were several Brits, but also five Albanians, two Irishmen, and four Americans. I heard someone say we were this diverse to mislead you. I swear on my mother’s grave, I really don’t know anything else.”
“He actually gave you a speech about racism?”
“He said that what you people are doing to Ukraine, you’ll do to all of Europe. The Americans already considered you communists, and everyone else had a problem with you because of the power you hold in this city.”
Nothing new. We meet enemies like this every day.
So I continue my interrogation, delighted by his desire to share, but intrigued by the mystery.
“When were you contacted?”
“Three days ago.”
“And what exactly are you?”
“Mercenaries. Some of us had been working together for a long time. But whoever contacted us mobilized a lot of forces for the coming period.”
In short, I should expect more surprises like this.
“Besides this mission, did he give you any details about what else he needed from you?”
“No.”
“Contract period?”
“Ten more days, with the possibility of extension.”
And all the pieces settle into place like a puzzle, forming an almost clear picture, one unpleasantly surprising all the same.
A warm piano melody begins to echo in my head, but rage takes complete possession of me.
I lose control in a single second.
Everything moves fast, but to me, it seems to happen in slow motion.
I abandon the torch and take a clean new knife with a narrower blade.
The next second, I am in front of the nearly unconscious brit and drive the blade into his ribs.
Blood begins to gush from his mouth with a grunt of pain mixed with shock, but I love the sound flesh makes when it crackles, pierced open.
Pulling the blade out, I drive it in again, a few inches lower.
Then again.
The same pleasing sound, every time.
After doing that about three times, I cut his throat in one motion, admiring the way blood explodes from his severed trachea, staining my hand and even my suit, all the way down to the tips of my shoes.
Silence returns to my mind. And to the room.
I turn my back on him, walking calmly toward my brothers while shifting the knife into my other hand. This time, I shove my blood-smeared hand into Yar’s bag, then stuff popcorn into my mouth and chew slowly.
But my thoughts point in only one direction.
Everything is beginning to take shape, revealing a senseless scenario formed by all the clues gathered from the two of them. From their mission to the period for which they were hired.
The wedding is in ten days.
I wonder what I’ll do to the one who orchestrated all this chaos. Chaos designed for one purpose alone.
“Someone is trying to keep me away from Ekaterina.”