The Yakuza trained them well, that’s for sure.
I stop the van two miles from the drop and turn to face them all. “Were you all briefed on what happens next?”
“You knock us out for the handoff,” the male says.
“Exactly.”
“Well, then, get it over with, bossman,” the first girl from earlier says.
I chuckle and shake my head. Reaching over, I open the glove box and pull out the handful of syringes and the vial of sleeping agent. I move to the back of the van and, one by one, inject them.
“You probably should have worn gloves,” one of them murmurs before they pass out.
As soon as I know for a fact they are out, I move back to the driver’s seat and head to the drop-off point. When I pull up, Szymon steps out of the shadows.
“You’re late,” he snaps as I get out of the van.
This fucking dickhead. What I wouldn’t do to put a bullet through his skull, right fucking now. If anyone deserves it, it’s him. I should have taken him out just for looking at Olena.
I take a deep breath and hope my mask stays in place. “I’m early, actually. I said I would be here by three, and it’s two forty-five.”
He grunts and crosses his arms. “How many?”
“Six. Five women, one man.”
“You grabbed a man?” he sneers.
“I was given strict instructions to grab a variety,” I remind him.
“You were also told only five bodies,” he points out.
“Consider the man a sign of good faith that I’m willing to go the extra mile.”
He moves to the back of the van, so I follow. I watch him as he opens the door and studies the product.
“No young ones?” he asks, sounding disappointed.
Disgust rolls through me. I was wrong. A bullet would be too nice of a death for this motherfucker.
To think he has unlimited access to Daryna.
I don’t believe in God, but I can’t help but send up a little prayer.
Please, God, protect that innocent child from the likes of him and his friends.
“Hey, you with me?” he snaps in my face.
I grit my teeth as I fight the urge to break his finger.
“Anything else?” I ask.
“No, you’re free to go,” he says, shooting me a dirty look.
I cross my arms. “You don’t like me much, do you?”
He sneers at me. “No, what gave it away? Of course I don’t fucking like you.”
“All right then, let’s air it out. Tell me what I did.” I know what I did, but I want him to admit it.