Page 91 of The Team

“No longer required. We have all we need.”

“Understood.” Rhett gave a nod to Sid. “You and Coyote take Wong downstairs. Zip-tie him. His government can have him.” Then he gave a nod to Jay. “You and Chen take the girl out of here.”

Jay nodded, seeming to understand what he meant.

Rhett looked at Yin. “Tan is no longer required.”

Yin smiled, then pulled out his EF88 and put the nozzle to Tan’s forehead, ignoring his disfigured hanging jaw. “My face will be the last thing you see,” he whispered, then pulled the trigger.

He stood up, and with a sigh of satisfaction, he gave Rhett a nod.

“Go get Jun-mei,” Rhett said, and Yin darted out the door.

Echo was at Wong’s laptop, clicking the keyboard, but he gave Rhett a shake of his head. “I can’t read any of it.”

“Leave it,” Rhett ordered. “And Frankston’s tablet. Leave it all. We don’t need it.”

Echo walked around the desk, stepped over the blood pooling from Tan, and he grimaced at the mess that Frankston was making on the floor. “What are we doing with him?”

Rhett pointed his rifle at Frankston’s head, at his pitiful eyes, broken nose, at the blood and drool, and Rhett pulled the trigger. “That.”

Jay followedthe woman down the stairs through the hall to a study. While he wanted to believe she was innocent in her brother’s business dealings, Jay kept his finger on the trigger guard and his eye on her every move.

“I saw them bring someone here,” she said. “When I asked Bo-chen, he told me it was a friend of Mr Frankston and they wouldn’t be staying. But I never saw her leave. And,” she said as she stopped by the door. “I see guards bring food.”

She went to the far corner in the study, between a bookcase and light sconce, where she pushed the edge of the wooden panelling. It clicked and popped forward, revealing a... wine cellar?

A freaking temperature-controlled cellar the size of Jay and Rhett’s London apartment, stocked floor to ceiling with racks of bottles.

Jay cast her a look.

She gestured inside. “This way,” she said quietly.

Jay pointed his rifle. “You first.”

“Where is she?” Yin demanded.

That made her move faster. She shuffled inside to one rack in particular, pressed something, and stood back. The rack slid to one side to reveal a metal door.

No handle, no keypad. Just a small black LED screen.

“How do we open it?” Jay asked her.

She put her middle finger on the screen and the door swung inward.

Yin was first through, pushing past Jay and rushing in.

The room was small, maybe three metres by three metres. No windows, just one overhead light, and a single metal bed. On the bed was a small person with the blankets pulled up, startled, afraid. Her hair was short, jagged, spikey. As soon as she saw Yin, she burst into tears, mumbling something over and over that Jay couldn’t understand.

Yin rushed to her, sat on the bed, and pulled her close, cradling her, kissing her head. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’m here. I’ve got you. You’re safe now, but we need to go.”

She shook her head and cried. “You can’t be here, they’ll hurt you. They want you. You must go.”

Yin shook his head. “I’m not leaving without you.”

Chen went to them and put his big hand on her. “Can you walk? I will carry you.”

She cried again when she saw it was Chen, her hand trembling. Then, like she remembered something, she looked at Yin and touched her chopped hair. “They cut my hair. All my hair is gone.”