Page 50 of The Bait

He howled, hissing through the pain, and even frothed at the mouth a little. So Harry stripped Rozga’s shirt over his head and used it as a gag to muffle the sound.

“Now he can’t talk,” Asher said, looking at Harry like he was an amateur.

“Let’s just fucking kill him already,” Harry grumbled. “He’s not gonna tell you anything.”

Asher gritted his teeth and snarled at him, mumbling something not in English as he ripped off Rozga’s other boot. “Take the gag out, for fuck’s sake,” he said, now pointing the boot at Harry. “How can he talk like that?”

Harry snatched the gag out, making Rozga choke a little. “Happy now?”

“Happy? That you almost died several times today? No, I’m not fucking happy, Harry. Do I look happy?”

Rozga made a pathetic groaning noise, still sputtering. Asher picked up his other foot and looked at Harry. “How many tendons do feet have? Toes have to have tendons, right?”

“I guess so,” Harry said. “And I didn’t almost die several times today.”

Asher glared at him, holding Rozga’s foot. “One round missed you by half an inch!” Then he sliced under Rozga’s big toe.

He howled again, doing that hiss-breathing thing.

Harry sighed. “You didn’t even ask him another question.”

Asher looked at the guy, who was now torn between which foot to hold. “Oops.”

Harry took the knife off Asher and kneeled down in front of Rozga. “Istomin took Yunho and Lucas. Yes or no.”

Rozga nodded. “Yes.”

“He sent in a team of mercenaries to extract them. Where did he take them?”

Rozga hesitated, so Harry, holding the knife vertically, pressed the tip of the knife into his bare shoulder, the tip pooling blood.

“Where?”

Rozga hissed but shook his head, so Harry pushed the knife in, blood pooling around the blade. “There’s a point between the shoulder humerus and the scapula, where if you slice through the three tendons, the ball joint just pops and renders the arm useless.”

Rozga was foaming at the mouth again, trying to breathe through the pain. Harry pushed it through the final resistance. Rozga wailed and his left arm drooped. “There it is,” Harry said. “Kinda like deboning a chicken. Just gotta get the right spot.”

He gave Rozga a few seconds to compose himself. “Have you had enough yet?” Harry asked. “Because I found your parents’ address online. I mean, I usually don’t like to fuck with the elderly, but I will. They make it quick anyway. And honestly, the fact I could find out everything about you using fucking Google makes you the stupidest fucking idiot I’ve ever met. And I don’t want to threaten your elderly mother, but if you don’t tell me what you know, I will.”

Rozga’s whole face changed.

“Now, I’ll ask you again,” Harry said. “Where are they?”

“B-bel-b,” he began, but seemed to be having a bit of trouble speaking.

“Belgrade?” Harry prompted.

Rozga nodded.

“And you do work for him? Guns and drugs, that kind of thing.”

He nodded again.

That didn’t make much sense to Harry. “What does a low-life piece-of-shit drug and gun peddler want with the likes of Yunho?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. Never ask why.”

“When he asked you to send three men to Australia, he gave you the names and addresses?”

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