Chapter 9
The estate was secured an hour later. Medical teams tended to Jamal’s shoulder while cleanup crews began the grim task of removing bodies.
Down in the soundproof basement of the estate, Marcus sat on a folding chair. The few loose strands of hair on his forehead were now damp with sweat, but his demeanor was as perfectly composed as a statue.
Strapped to a metal pole in the center of the room was the only mercenary they had captured alive. The man was beaten, bleeding, and terrified.
Marcus slowly unbuttoned his cuffs, rolling up his sleeves. The refined, sharp designs of his tattoos seemed to dance under the harsh overhead fluorescent light. He picked up a silver pair of pliers from a metal tray.
"I am only going to ask you one time," Marcus said, his voice a low, terrifying hum. The measured pauses between his words made the silence agonizing. "Where. Is. My. Sister."
"I don't know man, I swear!" the mercenary cried, pulling against the zip-ties. "We just got a wire transfer! We never saw her face!"
Marcus didn't blink. He didn't raise his voice. He simply stepped forward, clamped the pliers onto the mercenary's left index finger, and snapped it backward.
The man howled in agony, his body convulsing against the pole.
"You are lying," Marcus stated calmly, stepping back. "Your squad leader had a burner phone. The last ping was to a private dockyard in the Narrows. Is she there?"
The mercenary sobbed, spit flying from his lips. "Yes! Yes, she's there! She's waiting for the Romanovs to arrive with a boat! She's leaving the country tonight! Please, stop!"
Marcus stared at the man with his cold, sharp eyes. The extreme, neatly trimmed stubble on his jawline gave him the look of a beautiful, merciless demon.
"Silas," Marcus said, not taking his eyes off the bleeding man.
Silas stepped out from the shadows of the basement. "Yes, Boss."
"Get the assault teams ready," Marcus ordered, dropping the bloody pliers onto the metal tray with a loud clatter. "We are going to the Narrows."
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"And him?" Silas asked, gesturing to the mercenary.
Marcus turned his back and walked toward the stairs. "He saw my daughter cry. Cut his throat."
