Page 103 of Bastard

I wonder where Hayden is, and if he’s resumed the role of Lorenzo and is any closer to finishing the job.

Aside from my safety, what worries me most is that my sudden appearance will ruin things for him.

I’ll die before revealing the truth, he’d said. What about me? Would I be killed? Sacrificed as needed in order to keep TORC secrets? Is this what he meant by my being his weakness?

I can’t escape, not at the reckless speed that we’re traveling. So, I wreak a little havoc in other ways.

“Vere is my goddamn cell phone?” the Russian seated directly in front of me screeches, searching his pockets, the seat and the floor for it. A pointless task, his cell phone is about thirty miles back, lying where I tossed it on the side of the dirt road.

I pretend to doze, assuming a less threatening role and hoping it’ll convince them I’m no menace.

“Hand me your phone, damn it,” Alexei addresses the man next to me. I hide my smile in the crook of my elbow. Alexei’s phone was the first one I snatched. I thought Hayden’s men would appreciate the gift left behind in the dust just outside of Nmimpi.Ifthey are following us, though I’m beginning to worry that no one is.

The man beside me curses. “Fuck zees goddamn excuse of road.”

“Vladimir syed to confirm our arrival.”

“Cell phone in compartment,” the driver says, pointing to the glovebox.

Seconds pass before everyone begins shouting. “It’s fucking dead. I thought I told everyone to keep phones charged. Fucking forget it. Ve’ll be zere in a half hour.”

“Vladamir vill not bekheppi.”

“Maybe pretty voman vill change that?”

I don’t dare move.

“Leave her alone. Her husband has connections. Besides, he’s fucking dangerous. Lorenzo vill kill anyone who touches her.”

I exhale a sigh of relief. Dios, these men have some common sense after all.

The half hour passes in what feels like minutes. The truck turns left and onto a smooth, dirt road then begins a sharp ascent before reaching the top of a plateau. Within seconds, we’re beneath some sort of canopy that seems to go on for miles.

It’s late afternoon, yet the driver’s forced to turn on the headlights. I wonder if the canopy is how Barrington has managed to keep this mine a secret. Didn’t Hayden say he only recently discovered its existence, that the mine never showed up on the satellites?

Up ahead, there’s light filtering out of what appears to be a warehouse.

The truck comes to a stop.

“Vake up.” I’m nudged in the side.

I sit up, pretending to blink away sleep.

Alexei grabs me by both my arms and hauls me out of the truck. Then he escorts me the short distance to a large garage doorway.

“Vhere is everyone?” a Russian says.

I bite my lip. Something isn’t right. No guards are present—though Barrington’s home was heavily guarded. The mine is eerily quiet when it should be alive with activity. Alexei’s fingers squeeze my arm, a sign he’s suspicious as well. “Find Vladimir,” he snaps. I’m pushed toward the other man. “Lock her avay somevhere.”

I allow the Russian to lead me inside the doorway and toward the back of the massive space. Tall stacks of steel shelving line the wall to our right. An assortment of heavy-looking mining equipment fills most of the space. High above, there’s a pitched roof lined with crisscrossed steel beams. Beneath our feet is a dirty, ink-colored concrete floor. But there’s not a person in sight.

We’re deep inside the warehouse when we stumble across the first body.

“Vladimir.” The Russian falls to his side and turns him over. I wince at the bullet hole in his forehead.

My heart begins to pound. Who did this? Barrington? Or someone else?

The Russian grabs my hand, and we run deeper into the warehouse, passing body after body. From the Russian’s curses, I determine many are Vladimir’s investors.