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Errol's eyes flick to the side as he glances at his bag of explosives.
"Uh-uh-uh," Frisk says, wagging his finger at Errol. "You won't blow up my treasure. Do you have any idea how much the hoard will be worth on the black market? It's beyond calculation." He flaps a hand toward one of his lackeys. "Confiscate their bags, please. And be careful with the big one. Getting blown to smithereens will annoy me."
I bet he went to an Ivy League university. He probably came from a wealthy family too. Christian Frisk has the attitude of a spoiled rich boy who never had to work for anything and expects to get whatever he wants whenever he wants it. Not all rich people are like that, but Frisk could be the poster boy for the stuck-up elites.
"Harvard or Yale?" I ask.
Frisk stares at me, his brows cinching up. "What?"
"Did you go to Harvard or Yale? I'm guessing Harvard. You seem like the kind of guy who loves the colors crimson and black. Those are the Harvard colors, right?"
"Yes, but—Stop talking. The only one whose voice I want to hear is Errol." Frisk turns to his men. "Tie up Ashley and Munro."
Errol starts to move toward me.
But Frisk holds up a hand. "I wouldn't do that. These two are of little interest to me, which means I won't be upset if my men accidentally kill them. Do you want to see Ashley's guts sprayed across the floor?"
Errol grits his teeth, making a muscle pulse in his jaw. "When did you become such an evilbod ceann?"
"Call me whatever you want. I'm in control now. Step back, or I'll order my men to… What would be the worst thing I could force you to see?" Frisk grins with feral glee. "Oh, yes. I've got it. How would you like to watch my men having fun with your girl? We've been working so hard lately that they haven't gotten the chance to fuck a woman, and I can't promise they'll control their passions."
I glance at Errol exactly when he glances at me. Though he still wears an angry expression, something in his eyes tells me that he's forming a plan. Whatever happens next, I know Errol will do whatever it takes to stop these men from ravaging me. I'll fight them with everything I have, but a gang of big, strong cretins could easily overpower me.
"What do you want me to do?" Errol asks, his lips peeling back from his teeth with every syllable.
"Show me the hoard. I'll explain the rest once I'm satisfied you haven't taken anything from these caverns or tried to hide something inside these walls."
"And you won't hurt Ashley or Munro if I do what you want."
"No harm will come to them while you take me on a tour, unless your girl or your cousin try something. My men will defend themselves with deadly force."
Errol turns his gaze to me. I know, though I can't explain how, that he has some kind of plan, or at least is on the cusp of forming one. I've learned enough about Errol Murdoch to realize the man never goes into any situation without understanding what might lie ahead. I want to demand that Frisk let me go with him and Errol, but I can't risk angering the man.
Instead, I gaze into his eyes and pray he understands what I want him to know.Don't die on me, Errol, please. I need you.
He faces the doorway that leads into the cavern complex. "Follow me, Christian. And grab a lantern. It's dark in there."
Frisk grabs a lantern and hands it to Errol. Frisk keeps hold of his gun, with his finger poised over the trigger guard. The bastard will shoot Errol if he doesn't get what he wants. I know this with a conviction borne of intuition. Maybe I never used to believe in that, but I do now. And I pray we all come out of this alive.
Errol and Frisk climb over the fallen slab and enter the passageway.
Frisk calls out over his shoulder, "Tanner, come with me. Rendon, stand guard in this passageway."
Soon, the light of their lantern fades into darkness.
I curl my fingers into loose fists, but then force myself to relax them.
Frisk's men herd me and Munro into the corner of the cavern, directly in front of the doorway Errol had created with C-4, and order us to sit down. Maybe we could make a run for it, but I will never leave this place without Errol. I can't discuss our situation with Munro, which means I need to work out a plan on my own. I'm sure Errol is doing the same thing. Waiting for him to return seems like a bad idea, though. We need a backup plan in case these thugs decide to try something while we're waiting for their leader to come back.
All the research I'd done can't help me now.
One of the men rubs his belly and groans. "Damn, I'm hungry. Did we bring any food?"
"Left it on the beach, in the raft," one of his buddies tells the guy. "Be a man. Your sensitive little tummy can wait until the boss comes back."
"I have granola bars in my backpack," I say. "Feel free to eat them."
Giving up my food seems better than letting a brute go hungry. He might decide to gnaw on me to satisfy himself. Besides, I don't feel like eating. I'm too anxious.
