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Dominic’s eyes cut back to him.
Their father would make Oliver pay for this when Dominic reported back, but he didn’t drop his gaze.
“We did,” he replied. “It may sometimes be useful to extract knowledge from those previously affected by the compound, and so we had to confirm that subjects would still be capable of relaying such valuable information.”
Minister Hashi clapped both palms onto the surface of the table. “That’s all I needed to hear.”
It was done.
“Mr. Turner, I think you may have just given us the means to finally reclaim our land from these lawless men who have been thorns in the side of the Klah’Eel empire for decades.” Hashi stood and returned to the podium with his hands outstretched.
Dominic took it and shook it firmly. “I sincerely hope so, sir.”
“You’ll be able to produce enough for our use here on such short notice?”
“Absolutely. We have an excellent production line.”
They did. Oliver had overseen the acquisition of an excellent chemical production facility himself, two systems away. If they used high-speed freight, the product could be here in days, ready to be loaded into canisters and unleashed onto unsuspecting civilians.
Not that Mal’ik would ever allow that.
Dominic turned back to the small audience.
“Are there any other questions?”
The female klah’eel with the braids raised her hand and asked something, but Oliver wasn’t paying attention anymore. He needed to get to Mal’ik. He needed to get the man out of this situation. Maybe Oliver could hire him as personal security or heavily suggest him to the president of a well-established mercenary corporation that Oliver was friendly with because they were rivals of Wate.
Mal’ik was a loyal Klah’Eel soldier, and Oliver didn’t doubt his honor, but surely it was exactly that honor that would torture Mal’ik if he was forced to be the blunt tool the Klah’Eel empire used to crush a simple uprising.
Oliver pulled his tablet out, not caring how it looked anymore, and checked the message from Garin. He paused and read it again.
Mal’ik wasn’t at the meeting with his captains.
He had sent a high-ranking captain in his stead so that he could attend a confidential security briefing with the war minister.
This confidential meeting.
At which Patrick was representing him.
Oliver lifted his eyes slowly to look at the human. Patrick must have felt his eyes on him because he glanced Oliver’s way after a moment. He had a death glare to rival Dominic’s, and it made Oliver’s blood run cold and his skin clammy.
Something was wrong. Something was wrong with Mal’ik, and Patrick knew what it was.
He let his eyes trail over Harrison and Serihk. Harrison looked like he was just barely keeping his anger locked behind his strong jaw. Serihk looked as unflustered as ever, not a swirl of color over his skin. Did they know what it was? Perhaps.
Oliver met Patrick’s glare with a cool stare of his own. Patrick would be the easier one to break.
Oliver tried to focus on the rest of the meeting. Important information was being exchanged. Information he might need in the future. But all he could think about was the way Mal’ik had looked at him when they parted.
Distant. Apart. Dismissive. Sad?
Oliver should have done something then. He shouldn’t have let them part like that. Like they would never see each other again and like Oliver was okay with that. And now something had happened and it—
Oliver shoved the feelings away again and again. He would fix this.
As soon as the meeting ended and Dominic finished up his last words—pretending he wasn’t loving every second of this—Oliver stood and left the room. He saw Dominic open his mouth to call him back, but Oliver let the door close behind him before he could do so. Dominic would be stuck chatting with their clients. Oliver had someone else to catch.
Once out into the hall, he spun around and leaned against the stone wall. He crossed his arms and watched the door. The braided klah’eel woman came out, shot him a look, and then continued on her way.
