Page 57 of The Bait

Asher shook his head. “No. We were two out of half a dozen that lasted the longest. I was the youngest in the end. I went with Radovic to Kosovo. Daris went to Hungary. I saw him a few years later in Albania.” Asher managed a smile at that. “It was good to see him. Like seeing a brother. We had a week, like a summer holiday. We swapped stories and dared to think of the future. Until a new shipment of boys came in and I went to Italy after that. Then years later when I found myself back in Croatia, I tracked Daris down. I expected him to be dead. But no. He said he worked at a logistics place and he was finally living a normal life.”

Harry sighed. “I’m sorry he lied to you.”

“Me too. But you know, I don’t know if I blame him anymore.” Asher shrugged. “We were taught to do whatever it took to survive, and maybe that’s what he was doing.”

“Still,” Harry murmured, “betrayal stings.”

“There are very few people I care enough to feel betrayal over,” Asher admitted. “Just you, Yunho, and Lucas...”

God, he’d almost forgot about that.

Harry scowled. “Do you really think he’s MI6?”

“I don’t know,” Asher replied quietly. “I don’t know what to make of that. But I promise, if he’s the one whobetrayed Yunho, he will learn how much pain the human body can endure before death.”

“And I will help you.” Harry closed the laptop. “But it’s late and we’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”

“Ah, yes, driving to Belgrade.”

“And our plan to track down Istomin,” Harry hedged. “It’s high-risk, and we’ll re-evaluate the situation if we find out any new information.”

God, it was times like this that Asher missed Yunho the most. He would’ve given Asher any information he needed with a few clicks of his computer.

“And there was nothing about Istomin in Yunho’s magic data folders?”

“Nothing that I could see, but I’ll keep looking while you drive tomorrow.”

Harry nodded slowly. “To the Serbian Military Headquarters or the Russian embassy in Belgrade. Or both, perhaps.”

Asher sighed. “What could possibly go wrong?”

ELEVEN

They werein the Jeep before four am, heading out on the M18, Harry at the wheel, Asher supplying him coffee. He was quiet as he scrolled through the files and folders that Yunho had left him, and Harry was happy to concentrate on driving.

There were bank accounts. A lot of them, with more money in them than Harry thought was possible, and those numbers kept clicking over like miles on a speedometer. Every cent of it was theirs if they wanted it.

Yunho had given it to Asher with instructions on how to access it, via untraceable routing funnels that Harry couldn’t begin to understand.

There were files of information. Names and personal details on undercover government operatives, high-ranking government officials, from all over the world. Royalty, billionaires, tycoons in the oil, energy, finance, and media sectors. If they had an ounce of power, Yunho had every detail about them.

Information that people would kill for.

Kill because he had it. Kill to get their hands on it.

There were long lists of contacts: people who could get things like passports, tickets, weapons. In almost every country on the planet, and transaction ledgers of every single thing Yunho had.

There were files of photographs and videos of certain officials, politicians, meeting people they shouldnotknow, handing over files, transferring data and funds. Yunho had proof of certain governments funding wars, and weapon and drug trades. He had proof that would end careers, end wars and start them.

It scared the shit out of Harry if he was being honest.

In all his time under the Australian government, on the ground in foreign countries doing ungodly things in the name of security, he never wanted to know the details. He never wanted to know why someone was in his crosshairs.

It made things messy.

And now he knew things he wished he’d never seen. Things he wished Asher had never seen, because if they weren’t already on a most-wanted list, they certainly would be now.

All Harry wanted to do now was go back to his life a week ago, where their biggest concern was whose turn it was to cook breakfast after lazy mornings in bed.

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