Just as I am about to head back to the bar, a group of three enter the smoking area. They are discussing something animatedly and don’t notice me in the dark, turning their backs to me as they claim the standing table by the opposite window. That one offers a one-sided view of the corridor that leads from the secret stairs to the parlor, while mine is just tinted black glass.
I decide not to interrupt them by making my presence known. As I am about to slip out, something in their conversation snatches my attention.
“…for the tests.”
“Fiveextrasubjects?” the second one asks. “Do we even have those?”
“—laire has that covered.” The first one who spoke chuckles, waving his arms. “Have you… down there? That must’ve cost… fortune.”
As I cling to the shadows, I wonder when one of them will turn around, squint in my direction, and realize I’m eavesdropping. But I have every intention of being ready for it, so I size them all up. Two are averagely built, while the third one is a little taller and wider than me. But I doubt any of them has the training and experience I have, so taking them on all at the same time won’t be an issue if it came to that. The problem is hiding the bodies afterwards.
“…meeting with her? She… some fun and… check the new batch.”
Just what are they talking about? What tests, what subjects…
I want to get closer to the three men because I’m a little far to hear their conversation clearly, but that’s too risky. And if I jump them, there’s no guarantee whoever lives will crack before I need to make it to the Skellig room.
Discreetly, I pull out my phone and check the time. I need to head over, but this could be important, so I find myself with a dilemma. Do I trust Hex to handle things with Claire while I find out what this is about, or do I not?
I go over everything that has happened on this cruise and analyze it. He’s certainly shown growth, dependence. From the moment we boarded, he’s taken the initiative and helped me progress this mission. If not for him, we wouldn’t even be here. I’ve always known he was capable, but it hadn’t occurred to me that his skills and resourcefulness could go beyond the world of computers.
Yet, that doesn’t make him a fighter. I can’t expect him to be able to defend himself just because he’s not as clueless about the real world as I might have thought. But he’s a diplomat, he has a way to make you underestimate him. To trust him. To let him guide you around in circles so he can get what he wants.
I inhale deeply, letting the flow of oxygen calm my nerves. I’ll train him in self-defense the first chance I get, so my mind can be at ease when I’m not there to protect him. So that I can worry less every time he’s not in my sight. It’s the healthy thing to do, so I don’t suffocate him. And the first step is to trust him here and now, because I might be on the brink of a breakthrough.
That doesn’t mean I’m going to waste time waiting around for these three to finish chit-chatting, risks be damned. I need to know about these tests and subjects and where they are being held. And I need to know now.
I tuck my phone back inside my pocket, roll my shoulders, stretch them, and charge at the man closest to me. My arm is around his neck in the blink of an eye, while my second one connects with the stomach of the guy who was standing on his right. The one I’m strangling didn’t say much during their discussion, it was mostly the other two, so without much ado, I squeeze on his airways until he’s limp and unconscious.
While the guy I punched is stunned, I take on the last one. He puts his arms up to block a frontal jab, but I get him in the side with an uppercut. He yelps and gasps, clearly not expecting it, which proves to me that my initial observation was correct—none of them knows much about fighting. They must leave that part to their bodyguards.
This will make things easier.
Throwing the way I came a glance to ensure no one has spotted our scuffle, I grab my three victims by the collars of their suits and drag them one by one to the dark corner I was inhabiting. It’s out of direct sight of the hallway, thus giving me a bit of privacy. I still need to figure out what to do with the three men once I am done interrogating them, but I guess that’s happening on the go.
I squat down next to the two disoriented men and lace my fingers together. “Gentlemen, I have a few questions I’d like you to answer.”
They groan in pain a few times, one hugging himself and the other one clutching his jaw. When our gazes lock, I see unfocused anger across from me, which turns into murder as my two companions seem to regain most of their awareness.
“You are dead!” the braver of the two shouts, raising his hand.
I grab it, squeeze and twist. “I would advise against attempting anything stupid unless you want to end up like your friend.” I tilt my chin at the guy to my left who’s sprawled unconscious across the floor. The one whose hand I’m clamping whimpers in agony as I tighten my hold.
The truth is, I’m a little rusty. I haven’t had to get my hands dirty since I stepped away from being Kwanchai’s bodyguard and Leo took over. My CSO position keeps me too preoccupied with running things, and the executive meetings just never end. But my relatively civilian life doesn’t mean that I have suddenly forgotten who I am or what I am capable of. Quite the contrary—those kinds of things stay with you forever, just like riding a bike does. Nowadays, I don’t think about my time in the Thai Army as much as I used to the first few years, but I get the occasional twitch for adrenaline now and then. Working with Daichi and the Akiyama Group gave me an outlet for it, though with recent developments and my appointment to the less gray areas of our business, I haven’t had as many opportunities to blow off some steam.
Luckily, it seems like tonight isthenight and I’ve already found my first victims.
I squeeze the man’s hand harder, making him cry out in pain. “I am in a hurry, so why don’t you tell me what I want to know?” I prompt, studying their scrunched faces. If I am not wrong, one is a bigshot in the pharma industry, and the other one is a famous billionaire philanthropist from the US. I certainly wonder what someone likehimis doing dipping his toes in the drug business.
The man I’ve left alone tries to make a run for it. I shoot up, lifting the guy whose wrist I am still clenching, and twist sideways, crashing my shoulder into the runner as he leaps over the body on the floor. Loss of balance compromises his trajectory, but before he’s fallen on the ground, I shove the one I was talking to into him.
They collide, then crash into the wall from the force of my throw, groaning and grunting and swearing. I grab them by the throats and pin them against the cold glass. “What are these tests you were talking about? Talk or you’ll be swimming to catch up to the ship!”
The billionaire pales in terror and opens his mouth to answer, but the pharma bigshot cuts him off, “Don’t tell him anything! Security will be here any moment!”
I glare at him and he visibly shivers, but still bares his teeth at me. “You are dead, you hear me? Dea—”
A punch point-blank in the nose shuts up the pharma heir. He didn’t even have time to react as I let go of his neck, that’s how quickly and fluidly my hand moved. I don’t need him, especially if he’ll only get in the way of the other one fessing up.
