Page 57
“Wyvern venom?” he repeated. “That explains that, then.”
Keep him talking. Get him to open up.
He paused for a moment, before going on. “What it doesn’t explain is why Hargreaves is stooping so low as to pretend that a senior citizen is in need of medical assistance in order to catch its enemies. For a group of wealthy mercenaries with the world’s most cutting-edge technologies at their fingertips, that kind of approach seems a little… pathetic.”
The man laughed. “It worked, didn’t it? So what does that say about you?”
That I’m not a psychopath, Robb wanted to say. But instead he just snarled a little in apparent anger, playing the role that the man expected of him.
“Besides,” the man continued with a smirk, “I’m not sure that you’re in a place to talk. The Agency isn’t exactly lacking in the high-tech arena either, and yet you thought that, what, a pair of novelty glasses were adequate cover for pursuing a criminal?”
Robb’s stomach dropped.
Hargreaves knew about the New Year’s party where he and Tahnee had finally met in person, over twenty-five years ago. They knew about Tahnee’s existence.
The dingo bared its teeth, looking more fearsome than Robb had ever seen it.
James Eyre.
It had to’ve been him. James had been one of the few people in a position to know the details of that case, and he’d been spilling Agency secrets to Hargreaves for years.
Robb knew this, and yet it still caused a cold pit to open in his guts at the idea that James had been feeding literally everything to them. He could never have imagined that his betrayal could have gone back so far, to such seemingly insignificant cases.
The whole thing with Tahnee had been a pain for the Agency, of course, but in the grand scheme of things it was little more than a blip on their radar. Why had James seen fit to tell Hargreaves about it?
Aware of the old man’s knowing smile, Robb kept his expression neutral.
“It worked, didn’t it?” he parroted back with forced casualness.
“You’ve got me there,” the man laughed as he approached, leaning forward and getting his face up close enough that Robb could smell what he’d eaten for dinner. “You know, you’re more fun than people give you credit for. I think we’re going to have a good time together.”
“Not if you don’t brush your teeth, we won’t,” Robb said. “Or I’ve got some mints in my pocket, if that’s easier.”
Robb really hated doing the whole banter thing – it didn’t come naturally to him at all. But it seemed to keep this guy entertained, and that was his main goal at the moment.
True to his prediction, the man laughed again. “You’re a cheeky one, aren’t you? Well, we’ll see how many jokes you’re making once you’ve lost a few fingers. Or maybe something more.”
His tone and expression didn’t change at all, but Robb could tell he was serious.
Okay. Need to be a bit more careful here.
The bolts on the door chu-chunged open at the point, and Robb wasn’t sure if he was grateful or not. Definitely he didn’t think that being left alone in the room with this guy was a good idea, but at least he was a somewhat known quantity. Whoever was coming in could be bringing any number of people or weapons with them.
He turned his head to look at the door, his eyesight now having improved enough to be able to see the singular person entering the room.
He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved, or worried.
His new companion was an entirely nondescript middle-aged woman who simultaneously gave an air of competence and of being entirely unremarkable. She wouldn’t have been out of place doing the company accounts, or holding a clipboard, or organizing a workplace lunch. Her whole being gave out a vibe of normal and boring.
But Robb knew better than to judge on appearances. He was Hargreaves’s current VIP guest, apparently, and he knew that they wouldn’t be sending just anybody to interrogate him.
The way that his dingo had tensed the moment she entered the room was another factor to take into consideration. It was an excellent judge of character, and it was clearly judging her to be a major threat.
“Les, have you been threatening our guest?” she asked with an air of mild annoyance, not even looking at Robb. “We’ve talked about this.”
The man opened his mouth, apparently about to say something smart, but then he seemed to think better of it. After a pause, he said, “Yeah, sorry about that. Won’t happen again.”
“See that it doesn’t,” she said briskly.
