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“Why are you in such high-spirits, Irishman?” I ask, checking my guns one last time, just to make sure they’re locked and loaded.
It’s like he was waiting for someone to ask, because he hardly even hesitates to answer. “Because I think I’ve found the mole I’ve been looking for.”
“In the Italian mob?”
“That’s right.”
“Well, good for you,” I whisper, spotting a shadow up ahead. “You did your job. Now, it’s time to keep doing your job. So, shut up and keep an eye out for any funny business.”
“Aye, aye, captain.”
“Maksim, I give you permission to shoot him if you see it fit.”
“Hey!”
“Thank you, boss.”
“Enough playing around,” I say, taking one last deep breath before I step out into the open. “I’ve got a trap to blow up.”
“Good luck.”
“Break a leg.”
The second I step out of the cover of the shipping containers, a flashlight shines in my direction.
“Who is it?” a voice asks in a thick Greek accent.
Your worst nightmare.
“I’m here for the girl,” I respond. “Now, put that fucking flashlight down.”
“Are you armed?”
“… Do you want to find out?”
“The text said to come unarmed.”
“So, search me.”
“We have a gun to your little princess’s head. If any of my men spot a weapon on you, they will not hesitate to pull the trigger.”
That’s not exactly what I was expecting to hear—the Greeks should want her alive.
The threat only makes this all the more serious.
“You’ll die before her body hits the ground,” I growl.
“It’s my duty to die. What is your duty, Leonid Barinov?”
Finally, I get close enough to see past the shadow’s blinding flashlight. In the darkness, I can only make out the man’s basic features, but he doesn’t look familiar.
Just another Greek soldier, taking orders from some bastard or another.
“My duty is to rule. My duty is to kill.”
“… What about to protect?”
“Are we here to wax poetic, or are we here to talk?”
