There’s a video. Santiago, sitting in Dale’s chair. He’s wearing that fucking mask but I can sense his distaste for his surroundings through it anyway.
“I’ve been waiting for you to return. Having observed you for some time I knew that, sooner or later, you would talk yourself into some heroic nonsense about protecting the woman and her children by excising yourself from their lives. This would of course give me the opportunity to present myself to them.”
He laughs softly. “Take a moment to absorb the irony. I wish I could be there to savor your reaction. I am imagining a great deal of childish tantrums full of screaming and swearing. Or perhaps you will manage a cold fury that you think would intimidate me.”
“Fucking bastard,” I mutter.
“Were I a common sniper you would already be dead. The contract doesn’t mention the woman and her children, but as I have been tasked with making you pay adequately for your failure, I have of course taken them and will ensure they understand that you are the root of their suffering. Since you had the temerity to embarrass me by denying my newest apprentice her first high-profile kill, in addition to botching one of your own, that suffering will be most profound. It will almost pain me to torture the smallest one. She is quite sweet. That is if I do not choose the more ironic path of selling them all into slavery as whores to replace the ones you stole from your employers and ‘freed’.
“I will allow you to see them again. I know your guilt and foolish hopes that you can actually stop me will motivate you to come. As you know, I am not without honor. If you meet my conditions I will allow you some time with them, and give you a chance at a doomed attempt to free them and save yourself. Of course if you do not, I will flay the mother living, make the children watch, and then feed them her skin.
“You will want to write this down. You will meet Lily, whom I’m sure you remember from the hotel. She will not kill you, but will bring you to me that I may do so myself and show to the employers you angered that the word of an assassin is bond. The address is…”
I scribble down the address.
“Forgive the cliché, but come alone and unarmed.”
I stand up and the video starts again.
“Hello Quentin.”
It must have been playing on a loop since the son of a bitch killed Dale. I turn it off and stand up, sighing.
There’s a sticky note on the monitor that says USB and it jumps out at me for some reason.
Wait, Dale sent me a USB key at the drop box. What the hell did I do with it?
I run back down to the car and rummage through the trunk, opening boxes until I find it, then charge back upstairs and shove it in his computer.
A window pops up and a bunch of green-on-black code flies by; it’s running one of Dale’s programs, custom shit that he doesn’t design a graphical interface for.
Then a video pops up. It’s him.
“Quentin, listen to me. I knew you’d come back here. I figured Santiago would come after me first. I didn’t tell him where you were, or at least I hope I didn’t. If you’re seeing this I’m dead and, obviously, I recorded this message first. There’s some things I need you to do.
“First, this place needs to blow. I already have a program running uploading all of my files and information. You’ll be able to access it through one of my custom terminals, like the one at the safe house. By the time this video stops it should be done, but I gave you a safety window to get gone. After we’re done here I want you to type some commands into the computer for me and throw some switches in the next room. Write this shit down.”
Hurriedly I scrawl down the info as he reads it off.
“Once that’s done you’ll have fifteen minutes to clear the building before the implosion charges I planted blow the whole place. The other safe houses and caches will be intact. I’m passing it all on to you. Cache four is not far from here, it’s in the city. A list should start printing any second.”
Nearby a printer chugs to life.
“You want to go to four. I know Santiago is going to make this a bitch on you. I left you a couple of presents. Godspeed, Quent. Kill the son of a bitch for me.”
I turn to his rotting body.
“I will. I’ll make what he did to you look like Christmas.”
Time to go get my girls back.
18
Rose
This can’t be happening.
There’s a man in a mask in my living room and someone is pointing a gun at my daughter. This can’t be happening. I’m sitting on my couch shaking like a leaf in between my two girls, as this person sits in the side chair, crosses his leg over the other, and leans back.
“We shall be leaving soon. Before we go I would ensure it is made clear that all three of you must cooperate, or there will be unfortunate consequences.”
“What?” Karen blurts out.
“Do what I tell you or I’ll make you suffer.”
I grab Karen’s hand as she starts to shake even harder.
“If you’re looking for Quentin, he’s not here.”