Page 99 of Shadow Blind

He frowned at the lone metal object resting in the case. There were no labels or lettering, but this thing sure looked like a containment device that might hold nanobots. Even the grenade design was relevant. The nanoweapon hit the brain like a bomb, bringing insanity and murderous aggression.

Of course, it could be something else entirely. Maybe a prototype for a new type of explosive.

He touched nothing in the case. What if it was the nanoweapon? What if the pin had slipped and some of those brain eating microscopic bugs had escaped their prison? Wolf shuddered and carefully closed the lid, re-clasping the hasps.

He carried the metal case out of the closet and over to the bed. Kuznetsov glanced over as Wolf set it down on the mattress next to him. The Russian’s face went ashen, and he lunged to the side, away from the silver box. He would have fallen off the bed if Samuel hadn’t grabbed him. An urgent stream of Russian exploded from him. Their captive’s recoil was another sign that they had found what they were seeking. This time, Muffin didn’t react from where she’d relaxed into her mistress’s arms.

Samuel translated the spate of Russian. “No. Take away. No open. Is dangerous.”

More confirmation. Wolf grunted, his skin crawling at what the case likely contained. “Ask how many canisters he used at the well in Karaveht.”

If he’d used four of the canisters in Karaveht, then the one left was the weapon posted for sale on the dark web. If he’d used less than four, Wolf grimaced, then they faced more trouble.

After a few seconds of back and forth in Russian, where Samuel’s face grew progressively grimmer, his second finally turned to face Wolf. From the tension radiating across Samuel’s face, Wolf already knew what his Caetanee was about to say.

“They were given five vials. Three were used during the testing in Karaveht. One was sold privately. This is the one currently up for sale on the web.”

Wolf absorbed the information with silence and stillness. But frustration and rage warred beneath that calm. One of the doomsday devices was still out there.

Samuel was talking again. “He says the purchaser was anonymous. An exchange was made in Tajikistan. Money for the vial.

Is he being truthful? Wolf asked, studying their hostage.

Kuznetsov’s face was slack. His eyes were vague, his words slurred. He didn’t look like he could keep this secret to himself. Still, it was possible the Russian had instinctively recognized the dangers associated with Samuel’s questions and was resisting answering. While the truth serum made it difficult for a subject to prevaricate, it didn’t make it impossible.

Samuel shrugged. Unknown. I will keep questioning.

Frowning, Wolf turned to the woman. Perhaps she could answer his remaining questions. Her knees drawn up to her pillowy chest, she rocked back and forth on the floor with her eyes down. Her short pixie hair was a tousled mess, her face wet with tears.

Crossing to her, he squared his feet and crossed his arms. “What do you know of Kuznetsov’s business dealings?”

Her forehead wrinkled as she peeked up at him. She clutched Muffin closer, and confusion touched her wet eyes. “Business? What business?”

“His weapons.” A scowl touched Wolf’s face. “Specifically, this new weapon.” Wolf nodded toward the silver case. “Is he hiding more vials elsewhere?”

The confusion deepened on her face. She reached up with trembling fingers to scratch Muffin behind her floppy ears. The dog sighed and relaxed into her chest even more. “Weapons? The only weapons I have seen are the ones he kept under our pillows and the ones his guards carry.”

“Not those weapons.” Wolf tempered his tone when she flinched. “I speak of the silver one inside this case.” He nodded toward the bed and the metal container sitting on it.

Another round of sobs broke from her. “I don’t know anything about that.” The sobbing sped up. “He said…he said…he was an international banker. I know…of…of…no weapons.”

Muffy suddenly jackknifed up, her head swiveling toward the door. A high-pitched warning bark broke from her. Wolf turned as the Australian woman went to work, shushing and jiggling the dog again. He frowned at the sight of O’Neill in the middle of the doorframe. What was the jie'van doing up here? If there was a problem downstairs, Mackenzie would have let him know.

“Is there a reason you are here?” Wolf kept his voice flat. No doubt whatever reason the jie'van gave was secondary to his real reason—to act the fly, buzzing around and annoying everyone around him. He should have stuck him with Aggress Two. At least he’d be outside the house and out of Wolf’s hair.

O’Neill’s gaze shifted from Wolf to the bed and locked on the silver case. His green eyes narrowed. “Is that what we came for?”

Wolf shrugged. “So it would seem.”

O’Neill shifted his focus to the Russian, and then to the syringe sitting on the bedside table. There was an infinitesimal relaxation to his facial muscles. “He talked then? Told you everything we need to know.”

Was that relief Wolf heard in his voice? Impossible.

“He did.” Wolf crossed his arms and quirked an eyebrow. He wouldn’t say their mark had told them everything. The interrogation was still ongoing. But O’Neill had no part in the questioning and no reason for his interest. “Why are you here?”

A flash of something almost like guilt crossed O’Neill’s face, but it was gone so quickly Wolf dismissed it. “Just wanted to make sure we got what we came for,” he drawled, mockery lighting his eyes and vibrating in his voice. “Wouldn’t want this whole shebang to be for nothing.”

Before Wolf responded, his pilot’s grim voice came through the Neealaho.

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