Page 11 of The Last Strike

“It’s sarin,” the commander said. “Antidotes are being administered, but we’re going to run out. Even if we could get it from neighboring kingdoms, the victims will likely die before it can be administered.”

Luang’s blood boiled as his eyes went back to the television. The restaurant district was on television, filled with lifeless bodies on its streets.

He almost fell to his knees.

King Khalil

Khalil’s jaw ground and his blood boiled.

He would not lose to Asher—not to that young prick who showed him so little respect.

“Take me to the cells,” Khalil demanded and his security team swept in, escorting him.

He scoped the hallways as he walked, resenting that he felt unsafe in his own home.

Asher would pay for that.

He would pay, and then Santina would pay, just like Valencia would pay any minute now. Luang’s support for Santina at the border had been very evident, and now Khalil was going to teach Luang what happens to kingdoms that stand against Adani. Khalil had ordered a sarin attack on Valencia and the planes would be crossing the border now. It was all in place and there was not a thing Luang could do to stop it. But he would be able to stop future attacks.

Determination fueled Khalil’s legs and he increased the pace. “Come on, I don’t have all day,” he growled.

His security guards straightened, speeding their steps.

It was their fault Asher’s man had gotten inside the palace, and when he found those responsible, he would make a public demonstration of what happened when one was lazy and incompetent.

Khalil stormed through the hallways, his robe floating behind him. King Khalil still wore the royal garb every day. It made him feel powerful, and it reminded him—and others—that he was their king.

He stopped at the cell and, for a moment, thought to chastise the guards for not having men in front of it, because he didn’t trust anyone from Thomas Security not to escape. But when he peered through the bars, it became clear why guards were not needed.

A smile spread across his lips.

“You don’t look so good,” King Khalil said. “In fact, you look terrible.”

Reed stared at the ceiling, his face gray. A pool of vomit lay on the bed beside him. His body twitched, his skin covered with sweat.

Khalil chuckled as he walked toward the man. “This is what happens when you betray Adani. Now you have two options: One, I can kill you now and finish what the gas started. Or, two, you can work with me ... I could use a man like you.”

Reed looked to him, his eyes unfocused. His lips were open and parched.

“Save yourself, because Asher can’t save you now,” Khalil said with a hint of a smile.

Reed twitched again and the king thought he was going to convulse. “Get him some water so he can think well enough to make the right decision,” Khalil commanded and he heard feet scurrying behind him.

The king leaned against the wall opposite Reed, crossing his arms. He watched Reed carefully, noting his rapid breathing.His heart must be racing,Khalil thought with glee. A shot of atropine had been administered, but he would need another dose to further alleviate the symptoms.

“I should kill you,” Khalil said. “I should slit your throat in front of all of Adani to show them what happens to traitors. And that’s what I might do ... But you could also be of use to me, which is why you’re still alive. If you cooperate, you’ll be rewarded.”

Reed’s eyes remained on the ceiling and the king recognized it as an act of defiance.

A guard returned with a glass of water and a straw. He approached Reed tentatively, like he thought the man might spring out of the bed and choke him.

But one look at Reed should’ve told him that wasn’t going to happen.

The guard, seeing there was nowhere to put the water, held it out for Reed to take.

Reed turned his head ever so slowly and his eyes dropped to the water. His hand struck out weakly, smacking the glass from the guard’s hand. It shattered on the floor.

Khalil’s eyes narrowed. “That’s the last glass of water you’ll be offered. I’ll be back tomorrow. I hope you’ve come to your senses by then, or ...” He ran a finger across his neck.

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