Page 29 of Drop His Mask

Except, 197 would be an obstacle.

195 laughed internally at the thought. Once upon a time, he believed that 197 held the sun and stars in his hands. But thentime passed, and more and more of the wool was pulled away. 195 no longer felt the same way.

197 didn’t deserve Raven. Their so-called fearless leader hadn’t even truly been a part of the Griffin gang, he had simply been pushed into it. He was pathetic,worthless.At one point, 195 would have doneanythingfor the man. Damn near worshipped him, but they hadn’t seen him inyearsbefore they were all thrown into thisgametogether.

“Did you see that?” 196 whispered to him.

While he didn’t like 197, it was nothing compared to how 195 felt about 196. He hated the man; he was a coward, a disgusting pig that deserved to be here, but 195 couldn’t show his hatred externally. Instead, he inclined his head.

Yes.

They would be winning this round now, with help from Raven. When she landed in the barrel, it counted her organs too.

This would be easy from here on out.

He cast a glance around the room at the remaining players left to go.

They were the largest team left to play.

A guard yanked him out of his chair and 195’s legs buckled for a moment before stabilizing under him. Years of taking poisons had left him smaller, weaker than most, but he made up for it in other ways.

He side-stepped the guards hold and quickly joined his team in the surgical room.

“Plan?” 194 grimaced, a tattooed hand coming up to brush his hair back. Always the impatient one.

“Kill the person on the table so they can’t fight back. Uncuff them and all of us get in the barrel,” 195 murmured. He moved swiftly to the weapons table, not waiting for a response. He found the key needed and a scalpel.

197 had already agreed to this plan while they waited.

“But what if we know them?” 196’s thundered trying to go to the person strapped to the table, but 197 held him back.

Too loud.

195 didn’t care. He didn’t stop or pause. He spun to the person on the operating table. Maneuvering under their hood, he ignored the warmth of their skin, their thrashing, their soft cries. He swiped across their neck and as the person, the woman, bled out, 195 undid her cuffs.

“Help him,” 197 commanded, not letting 196 go even as he struggled against his hold.

194 assisted in tugging the body off the table. Together, 194 and 195 luggedherto the barrel and then tugged her inside before settling into it themselves.

This is more a metal swimming pool than a barrel.

197 threw 196 to the floor, stepping in next.

“Take their hood off.” 196’s nostril flared, his hands forming large fists. “Show me who you killed.”

Too emotional.

“What difference will it make?” 197 asked coolly, brushing off his clothes and straightening. “They would be dead whether 195 had killed them or not.”

“Show. Me. Their. Face!” 196 was turning redder by the minute as he blared out the words, his chest heaving. “There is only one of us that has anyone alive in this country. And it is me! Show me their goddamn face!”

195 glanced at their time left. “And what if it was your mother that I just killed?”

196 took the bait, lunging forward into the barrel just as the time ran out.

197 sighed exasperatedly, grabbing him from behind and putting him into a chokehold.

It only took a few moments for 196 to pass out. 197 let him slump to the ground before turning to the dead prisoner.

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