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“I’ll call you right back,” I tell him before he says hello.
“Do you know who that was on the phone?” I ask Andre.
He shakes his head.
“Will Clarke. British guy. You ever hear of him?”
Andre nods.
“That was his daughter you were spying on for those monsters. My woman.”
“I didn’t—”
I grab him by the throat and carve an X into his chest. He pisses himself, but I don’t let go of his throat to move away from the puddle. “Save your excuses for Satan. Because when I’m finished, you’ll burn in hell.”
I pry my hand off his damp skin.
“Give this fucker another dunk or two,” I instruct the guards, “and then string him back up. Don’t be gentle.”
18
RAFAEL
Zé follows me out of the cave into a small office nearby. “I can take another whack at him, but I think you’ve gotten everything there is to get.”
“Which is nothing.” I slam the door shut, but it doesn’t give me any satisfaction.
“Not nothing. It appears that Paolo identified Andre as someone who wasn’t a total lowlife, but had fallen on hard times and needed money. He put him to work. This is probably what they do in every city they target.”
“It’s a clever way to operate,” I mutter. “There’s no way Paolo’s running that operation. He’s too young to have enough experience to pull off something of this magnitude.”
“Agreed. What about the cousin?”
“Who the fuck knows?” I grouse, returning Will’s call. Hopefully he called with something useful and not just to ram his boot up my ass.
“Clarke,” he answers.
“Do you have anything that connects my prisoner with your dead flight attendant?”
“No. The flight was a reconnaissance mission, period. It’s as we thought. They expedited their plan when I changed crews ahead of schedule. I was the target. Not Lexie, although that traitorous bastard would have taken her or Samantha out if it meant getting to me.”
“I assume his time on earth is quickly coming to an end?”
“There will be nothing quick or merciful about his end. I’ll prolong the suffering as long as possible.”
He won’t suffer long enough as far as I’m concerned.
“What do you have?”
“My prisoner claims he was working for Paolo, the Russo girl’s boyfriend. He lives in Quimper, and Paolo hired him to gather intel on clubs. Once he was done, Paolo helped him get a job at the North Star, a club popular with wealthy tourists. He was the bartenders’ lackey, fetching booze when they needed it, and feeding Paolo logistical info.”
“Why was he at the hotel?”
“He was contacted by someone claiming to be Paolo’s cousin to report Lexie’s comings and goings,” I sneer through gritted teeth.
“Son of a bitch. I hope you haven’t made his stay too pleasant.”
“He’s been receiving the Huntsman special welcome.”
