Page 42 of The Bait

Daris shifted in his seat, paler now, his mouth working, but no words came out. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to get involved... I didn’t?—”

“Imagine my surprise when our friend Ivan Cosic spilled all your secrets,” Asher said, still using that sweet voice that was kinda terrifying.

Daris shook his head. “I didn’t want to get involved, Asher. You have to believe me. I tried to make you ask questions about why, not who. You don’t want to be involved with these people, you have to understand.”

“Understand what? That you’re in bed with the ZBK? A group of terrorists. Makes sense now when you said some folks around here don’t care about borders. A group of fucking terrorists who believe in the old days?—”

Indignation flashed in Daris’s eyes. “They’re not terrorists?—”

“Oh, so you’re a sympathiser,” Asher said, pulling his gun out. He kept it on his thigh but Daris’s eyes went wide. “Explain, Daris. You have three seconds.”

“For what this country did to me,” he said. “What theydid to you. How can you not hate them? How can you not want them to pay?”

“I don’t blame a whole country,” Asher said. “I blame people. I blame individuals, Daris. And right now I’m looking at you. When I asked if you could get me weapons, you lied to me.”

“I didn’t . . . I can’t . . . Asher, please.”

“Start talking faster,” Asher hissed.

“I didn’t want you to know about them,” he whispered. “And I don’t want them to know about you.” He shook his head. “If they knew I knew you, if I did a deal with you...”

“They’d what? Kill you?” Asher asked. “Did you think your deals with them would end any other way? Christ, how are you so stupid? You set up a legit business only to cater to factions that run guns and drugs. Do you transport everything for them? Tell me, do you transport people too?”

“It’s not like that,” he whispered.

“Bullshit,” Asher snapped. “When I asked you if you’d heard anything about my friend who was kidnapped, you said no,” Asher said. His voice was calm but the grip on his pistol told Harry otherwise. “But Ivan told me everything. Leaked like a sieve, Daris. Now I’m gonna ask you again. Where is Yunho? If I find out you had anything to do with transporting him, you’re gonna need a new definition for pain. What those assholes did to us in Turkey will be a fucking walk in the park.”

“I don’t know,” he replied, shaking his head. “I don’t know.”

Asher put the pistol to Daris’s forehead. “Wrong answer.”

“I don’t know, Asher,” he said again. He was teary nowand sweating. He shrank back, a pitiful excuse. “I promise.”

Harry kicked Daris’s leg. “Sit up straight. If you’re gonna get shot in the head, have some respect for yourself and look him in the fucking eye when he does it.” Daris sat up and Harry towered over him again. “I should rip your tongue out for lying to him the first time. I don’t need a second time. I will do it right here, and you will bleed to death on your kitchen floor. Now answer his fucking question anddo notlie to him.”

“I don’t knowwherehe is,” Daris said, almost crying. “But I know who took him. Vadik Istomin. He’s from Moscow. He’s some political army head, but he’s based in Belgrade. He has some kid working for him who’s some genius computer hacker. He’s the one who found Yunho. Once they got a location, Istomin sent in a team of guys to extract Yunho. They’re Russian mercenaries, ex-black-ops. They’re the real deal.”

“And how do you know this, Daris?” Asher asked. “How involved are you?”

He shook his head. “I know because...” his face fell. “Because Radovic works for him.”

Asher went stock still, even a little pale. “Radovic? How the fuck is he not dead yet?”

Daris nodded, shook his head, and shrugged, all at the same time. “He joined the army, found his calling there. He was a sick fuck. Still is. Asher, I’m so sorry.”

Harry had no idea who Radovic was, but it changed something in Asher.

“And the three men who came for us?” Asher asked quietly.

“ZBK.” Daris shrugged. “They weren’t... they weren’t pros.”

“They were pathetic,” Asher said. “And stupid. And now they’re very dead. And I showed you that photo and you recognised them, or the tattoo, and you lied to me.”

“I didn’t want you to get involved,” he said, shaking his head. “You have to believe me. I didn’t want you to see any of this. But then you came here, asking about them, and I knew you’d find out I was involved. You have to believe me. It never started out with them or what they stood for. It was?—”

“About the money,” Asher said. “It’s always about the money. Blah blah blah, I don’t give a fuck. Tell me how I find Istomin.”

“You don’t. No one does.”

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