Page 41 of The Last Strike

Khalil snapped his head toward the door when he heard a knock.

“Yes?” he called out.

Nicholas stepped in. “Everything is ready,” he said.

Khalil refilled his glass—he would need a congratulatory drink when this was done—and walked beside Nicholas to the security center.

He sat down at the large table and looked at the security footage of the tarmac. It took him a moment to realize something was wrong.

“What airspace is that?” Khalil asked.

Nicholas looked to him. “We are going to launch the jet from Arinia’s airspace. Arinia is not yet aware that we’ve broken through their containment lines, and if the jet flies from Arinia, there’s less chance of it being shot down before it reaches its destination. If you’d prefer, I have another plane on standby ready to leave Adani. The choice is yours, Father.”

Khalil thought that through for a minute, and then looked to his son with pride. Nicholas was the only one who had never disappointed him.

“Good plan. Launch from Arinia,” he said, knowing full well that if Asher did manage to work out where the plane had departed from, Queen Victoria would take the fall.

He smiled.

That would teach the queen a lesson for sending her soldiers to support Santina.

He was liking this plan more and more.

“Flight time is thirty minutes,” Nicholas said as the jet gained speed and took off.

Nicholas pulled out a chair, sitting beside him.

“How confident are you that this is the address she’s being kept at?” Nicholas asked quietly. “If we’re wrong, we risk killing hundreds of civilians for no reason.”

“Luang updated me on the address Theodora has been moved to. He wouldn’t lie to me,” Khalil said.

He wouldn’t dare, because if he did, Valencia would pay dearly.

He took another mouthful of his whisky, enjoying the burn that ran from his throat to his stomach.

He looked over the various computers and surveillance equipment. He wondered what setup Asher had established. Khalil hated that Asher secured better assets than Adani, and Khalil still wondered how Asher was paying for their services, seeing as he hadn’t drawn oil from the Lithe Ruins.

Khalil pondered that for a moment. He concluded that either William Bennett—the proud Santinian that he was—was funding them, or they’d secured international funding. Maybe both.

He made a note to investigate further and cut off that funding. Without money, Asher’s resources would disappear and then Khalil would claim victory.

Khalil smiled. It was only a matter of time. Like most things in life, if you held on long enough, you succeeded. And Khalil was in for the long haul.

The time passed slowly but when the radar showed the jet entering Santina airspace, Khalil held his breath. When it wasn’t shot down, a smile spread across his lips.

Big mistake, Asher. Big mistake.

Patmos, Santina’s capital city, was not far from the border, and Khalil tasted victory when the jet wasn’t shot down.

“Coordinates are locked in,” Nicholas said, leaning forward.

Khalil turned to his son, getting a read on him. His face was expressionless, his tone casual. This was business.

“Target locked in,” Nicholas said.

Khalil looked to the screen showing the aerial footage of the city. The thunderous clap sounded like it echoed through the entire kingdom as a fiery blaze took over not only that building but its neighboring buildings as well. Innocent lives would be lost, but they weren’t totally innocent. They were Santinians against Adani, and it would be a good lesson for all who supported King Asher.

Khalil sat back in his chair.

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