“Took him long enough.”
She smirks. “We’ve come up with a plan to get you out of here. But we need to move fast. I’ve already wasted time answering your damn questions.”
“I’m guessing there’s a diversion set up.”
“Already in play,” she replies. “Drago is at the front gate asking for Rokiades.”
“Drago Lombardi?” I ask incredulously.
“That’s the one.”
“Jesus. That fucker’s a wild card.”
“I’m pretty sure your brother scared the shit out of him,” she tells me with a quiet chuckle. “He’s going to play his part.”
“You can’t say anything for sure. There’s no telling what that slimy Italian bastard will do.”
“Rokiades left him for dead. He knows that he can’t trust the Greek. Don’t worry so much,” she tells me. “Just trust the plan.”
“That would be easier if you’d tell me what the plan actually is.”
“Glad you asked,” she says wryly, pulling something from her coat pockets.
“Is that blood?”
She nods and jiggles the plastic pouch in her hand. “You’re going to cough up some of this lovely, fresh, A-positive blood like it’s your very own. I’m going to call for the guards while you pretend like you’re choking on it and you’re going to die if I don’t intervene. I’ll have to flip you over and ask them to take off the cuffs,” she continues. “Once you’re free, we can fight them off and get you out of here.”
I raise my eyebrows. “There are three guards out there,” I point out. “All armed. Unless you have a couple of Glocks under all those layers, this seems like an easy way to get a couple bullets in my chest.”
She smiles. “Glocks? Not quite. But I do have this.” She pulls out a small surgeon’s scalpel and offers it to me.
In the wrong hands, it’s next to useless. In the right hands, it’s a weapon of mass destruction.
Guess which category I belong to?
I tuck the razor-sharp blade away in the waistband of my pants.
“Be careful with that,” she warns. “It’s sharp.”
“Got it, Mom.”
She glares at me. “I could just leave you in here, you know. It would spare me a lot of your sass.”
“Then who would play the part of your fearless leader?” I drawl. I’m already looking up beyond her, to the door separating us from the guards that are usually stationed right outside.
With the scalpel at my disposal, I’m confident that I can take them all. And Sarah’s no slouch in the fighting department, either. She trained on Clan premises for a few years before I decided to cultivate her undercover persona. That being said, it’s been a minute since she’s been required to fight at all.
“You remember your training?” I ask.
“Don’t insult me.”
“There’s three of them out there.”
“I know. It’s hardly fair to the poor bastards.”
I smirk as she cuts open the bag of blood and starts strategically splashing it all over my body.
“Does Renata know where your loyalties lie?” I ask while she does her work.