KAIRO JONES
Isidore Panopoulos was goingto get him killed.
And then Isidore was probably going to get himself killed.
How could someone like him possibly be real? And still alive! If Isidore was as sweet, soft, self-sacrificing, and kind as he seemed, the world should have swallowed him whole by now. Or at least made him so damn jaded thatthisperson in front of him didn’t exist.
He needed air. He needed to think. He needed to string two thoughts together that didn’t include Isidore’s high likelihood of stepping in front of a bullet because he didn’t want to trouble Kairo too much with the need to save him.
Shoving to his feet, he sidled out of the narrow space between the beds and walked toward the closed door. The bed squeaked behind him as Isidore likely rose to his feet as well, but the man didn’t say anything.
Kairo tried the door and was surprised to find that it was unlocked. However, it wasn’t surprising that there was a man standing outside the door. As soon as the door opened, a gun was pointed at Kairo’s face.
He stared down the muzzle at the guard’s annoyed expression. He looked like he was in his late thirties with a tanned, scarred face. An assortment of black tattoos crowded his right forearm and Kairo quickly committed as many as possible to memory in case he needed that information later. Minions for hire were often a weak point for masterminds. Minions didn’t cover their tracks or watch their backs nearly as well as masterminds.
The man opened his mouth to bark something, but Kairo didn’t give him the chance. He snapped, “Bathroom.”
The guard might not speak English, but it was a good chance he understood that one word. It was helped by Isidore calling out in Greek behind him, translating that single-word request.
A low grunt left the guard. He still seemed peeved, but a little less so. The idiot should have known it was coming. Kairo had been out of it for too many hours already. It felt like his damn back teeth were floating. Dropping the gun to his side, he motioned for Kairo to enter the hall.
The guard shut the door with a quick snap behind Kairo, but there was no accompanying sound of it being locked.
Of course, it became clear why when he looked at his surroundings. The hall was relatively short and narrow with one door opposite the room he’d come out of and then two more doors on the same side as his prison cell. The doors opposite and directly next to his room were closed. The last door at the end of the hall was open, revealing a bathroom with pale mint-green tiles.
He walked slowly, scuffing his feet and listening to the faint creak of the wooden floorboards. Sneaking along this hallway in the dead of night would be tricky and slow if he needed to be completely silent. A thunderstorm would be helpful, but he wasn’t going to peg his luck on a turn in the weather.
At the end of the hall, he paused and leaned to his left, peering down the stairs. The glance he stole made it appear they might be on the third floor. But he didn’t get more than a glimpse before Grumpy Guard gave him a shove in the spine toward the bathroom.
It wasn’t much, but it was a start. When he returned to the room, he could grill Isidore on what he knew of the house. It sounded as if he’d been there for a while. There was a good chance he’d seen more of it and could provide a more detailed description.
After giving his bladder some much-needed relief, he washed his hands and splashed some water on his face. The mirror above the sink revealed the face of a man who was ragged and slightly dazed. His hair was poofed out in a tangled mess, his beard was scraggly, and his eyes were simply tired. Wonderful. His appearance screamed conspiracy nut rather than former Army recon turned mercenary for hire. He was shocked Isidore hadn’t taken one look at him and decided Kairo wasn’t fit for this job. Certainly not someone he’d trust with the safety of his beloved sister.
He splashed some more water on his face and did what he could to tame his beard. He ran his fingers through his hair with one hand while quickly and quietly searching through the drawers under the sink. At least these guys were smart enough to make sure the bathroom was cleaned out of potential weapons. There wasn’t much to be had except for a small bottle of acetaminophen, soap, toilet paper, and a few rubber bands.
Snagging one, he tied his hair into a small ponytail near the base of his neck. He did a brief search of his body to find only a handful of small bruises and abrasions from being handled over two days, but nothing serious. At least they hadn’t done any damage to him. Even his headache was starting to recede, and he felt like he could tackle this nightmare he’d landed in.
When this was all over, though, he was going to track down Nick Theodorou and punch that blabbermouth right in the nose.
Pulled together as best as he could be, he jerked open the door to find the guard leaning on the wall next to the stairs, blocking that escape while keeping his eyes locked on both the bathroom door as well as the door to Isidore’s room. If Vanko was willing to keep a guard outside their room all day, locks weren’t necessary…unless they could potentially get a jump on the guy.
An option to keep in mind.
But first, he needed to know the layout of the house, not to mention how many men they were facing. It would also be incredibly helpful if they knew where Athena was being held. Any escape meant grabbing her on the way out the door. There was no way in hell Kairo was going to get Isidore to go anywhere without his sister.
As he trudged down the hallway, he “accidentally” went in the door opposite of the room he was being held in. He caught only a glimpse before the guard pushed him in the right direction and slammed the door shut, but he saw another small bedroom with a twin bed covered in messy sheets. There were bags on the floor, a couple of magazines for handguns, and a scattering of clothes about the place. At least one of Vanko’s men was staying in that room. Or possibly it was used for a rotation of guards set to watch over the prisoners on this floor.
That meant, at night, there was likely one guard outside the room and one sleeping across the hall.
Was it too much to hope that Athena was being kept in the room next to theirs? It would reduce the number of guards required to watch places about the house. And it would make their escape easier if Athena was so close at hand.
Isidore was on his feet the second Kairo was shoved into the room. Anxious eyes scanned him from head to toe. The worry retreated as soon as he likely determined that Kairo was fine.
“Shit,” Kairo muttered under his breath.
Isidore lurched forward a step while Kairo remained standing just past the closed door. “What?”
“I should have grabbed you a cool, damp washcloth for your face.” Now that some time had passed since their encounter with Vanko, Isidore’s handsome features were beginning to darken and swell. Ice would have been ideal, but a cool washcloth was better than nothing.