“Oh well, good times, then.”
“But since he won’t give us his name, Whiskers it is,” Dex said cheerfully. He turned back to Whiskers. “Or did you want something more ferocious? Something that’ll strike fear in our hearts?”
“Fred,” Wolf offered.
Dex cast Wolf a sideways glance. “Fred?”
Wolf nodded. “My auntie had this hideous-looking creature I suspect was some form of cat. It used to attack anything that moved within a five-mile radius of it. I swear it was shat by the devil.”
Dex let out a bark of laughter. “Okay, you win. Fred it is.”
Fred looked from Dex to Wolf and back to Dex. “You’ve got to be fucking shitting me. Why is he here?” Before Dex could answer, Fred turned his gaze to Wolf. “How much is he paying you? We’ll pay you triple.”
Wolf laughed. “Oh, you poor bastard. I’m not being paid to do this. You shot my little brother in the chest.” Wolf placed the toolbox in his hand on the table with a thunk. He opened it and removed a hammer, which he then pointed at Fred. “Take a moment for that to sink in, Fred. You shot my sweet, innocent little brother in the chest. Do you know how much that hurts?” Wolf pulled a tranq gun from inside the toolbox and shot Fred in the chest.
“Motherfuck!” Fred cursed and howled in between wheezing breaths.
“Dude, you shot him!” Dex threw up his arms. “Really?”
“They’re blanks, Dexter.”
“Oh.” Dex put his arms down. “Carry on, then.”
“You two… are… fucking… crazy,” Fred said, gasping for breath.
Wolf grinned broadly at Dex. “You see there? He said we make a good team.”
Dex was not impressed. “That is not what he said.”
“Are you certain? Because I very clearly heard him say we make a good team.”
“Can we get back to Fred?”
“Very well.” Wolf returned his attention to Fred. “As you can see, that was very painful. Of course, you were spared the numbing toxin that was spread through my brother’s neurological system, paralyzing him and knocking him unconscious, leaving him vulnerable. And then your mates shot at the stuffy agent with the stick up his arse who was holding my baby brother.”
“Sloane is not stuffy, nor does he have a stick up his ass.”
“Don’t interrupt me, Dexter. I’m making a point.” Wolf reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a gun with a silencer. He shot Fred in the shoulder, then held the gun up so Fred could see it. Fred was a little busy groaning and writhing in pain. “This one does not have blanks.”
Dex hoped they got something out of Fred before the guy bled to death or died of a fucking heart attack.
Wolf sat on the edge of the table in front of Fred, hammer in one hand, gun in the other. “Now, Fred, what can you tell me about Dexter’s dear old dad?”
The chains rattled as Fred held on to his wounded shoulder, his teeth gritted as he spat at them. “Fuck you.”
“Not the reply I was hoping for.” Wolf returned his gun to his jacket before grabbing Fred’s hands and bringing the hammer down on one finger.
Dex cringed as Fred’s howl filled the room.
“Let’s try that again, Fred. I know you have nine more fingers, but time is of the essence. Where is Sergeant Maddock?”
“Fuck you.”
Wolf sighed. “Dexter, I’m afraid I’m going to need your assistance.”
“Um, sure.” Dex walked over, and Wolf motioned to Fred as he pulled a pair of pliers out of the toolbox.
r />