Page 38 of Operation Wolf: Eli
We were in an open area that looked like it had once served as a break room, with a rusted-out refrigerator and sink pressed into one corner and a rickety table and chairs in another. The railing continued past the room and led to what I imagined must be a series of offices.
The man seated at the table looked up from the papers he had been reviewing, and from the contingent of men standing near him, I knew he was the boss Caesar had referred to. But I barely spared a glance at him. All of my attention immediately focused in on a man who was tied to a chair in the center of the room.
“Dad!” I lurched forward, but two of Caesar’s men instantly grabbed me, dragging me back. I fought them bitterly, tears streaming down my face as I tried to reach my dad.
He was dressed in ratty clothing and had a burlap sack shoved over his head, but I knew it was Dad. I’d recognize him anywhere.
“Let me go, you sick bastards!”
“Let the lady go to her father,” the man at the table drawled. The soldiers released me. “She came all this way for him, so we might as well let her have him,” he said.
I rushed over to Dad, tugging at the bindings on his wrists. “Dad,” I cried, freeing his hands.
I expected him to rise out of his chair, to put his arms around me, to do anything, but he immediately slumped sideways. I struggled to catch him before he hit the floor. The burlap sack slid off his head before I could right him again, revealing a pallid face with staring wide eyes and a throat slashed from ear to ear. Screaming, I dropped him in shock.
“You killed him!” I sobbed, turning and flinging myself at the man behind the desk.
This time, when his soldiers moved to restrain me, he made no move to stop me.
“Why? Why did you kill my father, you fucking bastard?”
“He wasn’t worth shit anymore,” the man said, his cold gray eyes devoid of emotion. “But now, I have you, sweetheart, and things are looking up.”
Someone pressed a sickly sweet-smelling cloth to my face, and the room went dark.
