“Oh, I just skim a little off the top. Like a mosquito. Besides, you’re hardly one to object to hurting people.”
“I only hurt people who deserve it.”
René showed off his glorious caps. “You are such a wonderfully pure thing. A self-made construct.”
Evan pushed himself up to sit on the mat. He still felt weak from the exposure, but his arms were tingling, the blood flow picking up again. “The young rats. You didn’t say what happens to them.”
“Well, that’s the unfortunate part,” René said. “They aged prematurely. Their muscles broke down, didn’t heal the same way. Every benefit has a cost.”
“As long as you’re not paying it, right?”
“That’s right.”
“So you get David to lure kids here? And you siphon off their blood? But it’s not a perfect science, is it? Sometimes it goes bad.”
“Every advancement has its complications.”
“There’s a difference between stealing and killing.”
“Not really,” René said. “In one instance I steal blood. In the other I steal a different resource — the only resource not able to be replenished. Time. Killers are only thieves of a different stripe. They steal time — the time their victims would have had left to live. Ten years. Forty. They take it to enhance their own time. It’s a trade, and it favors the bold. Just like those who can afford better medications, safer cars, who had the birthright luck not to be born in a flea-bitten Third World shack. That the kids I”—here he searched for a word—“sip from generally emerge unharmed is a testament to my magnanimity. There’s nothing to stop me from taking everything every time.”
“Except your kind heart.”
“I don’t like to do harm, you see. I’m just willing to.” René set his hands on his knees and leaned over Evan, and for the first time Evan considered just what a large man he was. “However, given the mess you left in my basement? I’ll enjoy what I’m going to do to you.” He stood up, clasped his hands. “But we have so much to clean up first.”
Dex was suddenly behind Manny, relieving him of his Kalashnikov. There was a slight delay as Manny seemed to realize what had happened, and then his mouth stretched into a rictus of dread, a twitching oval lined with gold teeth. No words emerged.
“Xalbador, he speaks poor English, is that correct?” René asked, gesturing at one of the men who had dragged Evan through the snow.
Manny stared into the middle distance.
“Is that correct?” René repeated.
Manny managed a nod.
René flicked two fingers, and Xalbador stepped forward. A skinny kid in his early twenties, he hadn’t yet thickened into manhood. A wide belt cinched his jeans, holding them up. The Santa Muerte tattoo on his neck was inked but only half colored, a few scabs still showing from the needle. With his wispy mustache and lupine cheeks, he was young and mean and had a lot to prove.
Manny would not look at him.
René said to Manny, “Will you translate for me?”
Another tiny nod.
René cleared his throat. “Tell him that given your failure, he will be succeeding you in your position.”
Manny’s lips wobbled, his mustache bristling. He palmed his mouth, trying to still it.
“Tell him,” René said.
Dex sidled a step closer, set a hand on the ledge of Manny’s shoulder.
Manny said, “Dado mi fracaso, es posible que vas a tomar mi posición.”
“Tell him that his primary — no, his only job — will be to watch our guest.” René stabbed a finger down at Evan on the mat.
Manny cleared his throat. “Solamente … solamente tienes que echarle un ojo a nuestro huésped.”
“Tell him you are hopeful for his success and wish him well.”
Manny’s Adam’s apple twitched. He turned to René. “Por favor—”
“You are hopeful for his success and wish him well.”
“Tengo la…”
René nodded encouragingly.
Manny licked his lips, his gold caps gleaming. His brow glistened with sweat. “Tengo la esperanza de … de tu éxito y … y … te deseo … deseo lo mejor.”
René looked at Xalbador, who raised his AK-47 and put a tight grouping of bullets through Manny’s chest.
Evan thought, Two dogs, five guards, two snipers, David, and Dex.
Xalbador dragged Manny’s body out through the rear barn doors, leaving a path of blood across the concrete.
“Nice show,” Evan said.
“Don’t worry,” René said. “It’s not over yet.”
Dex pushed open the door to the interior office and pulled Despi out by her hair.
41
No Ready Answer
Despi kicked and tried to shove herself away from Dex, but she was seismically overpowered. He carried her across the barn like a squirming lab rat and set her gently on her feet before René. Dex kept one hand clamped on the back of her neck.
Somehow Evan had managed to find his feet. Four guards ringed him. In case the Kalashnikovs weren’t sufficient, each was armed with a transmitter for the shock collar.
Anyone could get in on the fun now.
René regarded Despi. “Our guest used a car jack to aid in his non-escape,” he said. “Any idea where he got it?”
Evan said, “I stole it from the barn when I snuck in here yesterday.”
René kept his gaze steady on Despi. She writhed in Dex’s grip, and then the muscles of his arm corded and she gave a yelp and stopped struggling.
“If you tell the truth,” René said, “I won’t hurt you.”
“I’d never take anything from her,” Evan said. “I don’t trust her. She’s one of your employees.”
“Despi,” René said gently, “I have cameras in the barn. Is this really a lie you want to stand behind?”
Slowly, she raised her eyes to meet René’s. She gave the faintest shake of her head, the tips of her dark locks swaying.
“Did you give him the car jack?” René asked.
Her lips trembled. She nodded.
“Okay.” He stroked her chin. “Okay.”
“Do you really have cameras in the barn?” she asked.
“No,” René said.
She bit her lower lip. “You promised you wouldn’t hurt me.”
“And I will honor that promise,” René said. “Nothing will happen to you. In fact, nothing will happen here at all.”
She closed her eyes, freeing tears that slid down her olive skin.
René turned and started out.
Evan stayed tense.
“However.” René stopped, his back to her. “One of the many benefits of money is that I can commission people anywhere in the world.”
Despi blanched.
Slowly, he turned. “Say, in Rhodes. Athens.” He held out his hand, palm up. One of the narcos placed an iPad on it.
“No.” Despi shook her head. “No, no, no.”
René hummed to himself as he tapped the screen. He held up the device for Despi. Evan couldn’t see what it held, but he saw the glow reflected in Despi’s eyes.
The impact on her was immediate. She took a half step back as if staggered by a punch. Her face shifted, hollowed out beneath the skin, her eyes sunken and glazed.
René swiped a finger across the screen, bringing up the next image.
She strangled a small noise in her throat. Her words came in a hoarse whisper: “No. Not her, too.” She hunched over, her shoulders shuddering. She made sounds befitting war zones and hospital rooms.
Guilt flared up inside Evan, scouring his insides, threatening to consume him.