Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 76309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
The only thing holding back the psycho killer is inconvenience.
“Don’t let him get into your head.” Lanzo’s staring at me with a hard expression like he can read my mind. “Look at me, Ren.”
I glance into his eyes but can’t hold his gaze. “He’s killing FBI agents,” I say softly, nearly whispering the words. “What if he’s right? What if he really can get to Grandpop?”
“I won’t let that happen.”
“Like you were going to track him down through my phone? You couldn’t even stop him from crashing your computer.”
His jaw works. “It’s not what it looked like. That was only a counter-measure, but I still got good information. He’s here, Ren. He’s in Dallas, and we can find him. Now that I know what he looks like.”
“Now that you have a description of him, but only I’ve actually seen him.” I stand, pacing back and forth, my phone forgotten on the floor. “He’s not going to stop. You know that.”
“I know that this is our best shot. If you let him scare you off, then he’s going to get away with it. Again.”
“Why do you care about him so much?” I turn, hands curled into fists. “Why do you even care?”
Lanzo’s eyes are haunted as he stands and speaks slowly, like each word is a piece of thunder rolling over canyons. “I used to work for him, just like you.”
Chapter 31
Renata
I slowly back away from him, shaking my head, trying to make sense of this. Lanzo puts his laptop aside and faces forward, hands on his knees. He’s tense, like his body might vibrate into a thousand tiny shards.
“How?” I ask finally, blinking rapidly. “What do you mean, you worked for him?”
“Burian was my handler when I did work for the Russians,” he says quietly. “This was years ago. I told you, I’ve done bad things.”
“You worked for—him. And you didn’t tell me until now?”
“I didn’t think it mattered.”
“How did you work for him? How don’t you know what he looks like?”
“It was never in person,” he says, staring at the floor in front of his feet. “We only ever spoke via encrypted computer communications or through telephone calls. He was my handler, my direct superior. I didn’t know who and what he was for a very long time, at least until he tried to kill me.”
I sink down into a chair. I’m so jittery, I can’t move, like my body’s falling into a catatonic state since it can’t move in all directions at once.
“Just tell me,” I whisper.
“It was a retrieval mission. Break into the file system of a rogue mercenary company operating in Syria, download their files, bring them back to a meeting point. The work went well, I finished my mission, but at the final drop point there was only a single person waiting for me with a gun. I took a bullet to the chest and would have taken another to the head if I hadn’t killed my attacker first. I nearly died that night, and from then on, I swore I’d find Burian and kill him for what he did to me.”
I close my eyes, hug my knees to my chest. “I thought this was about taking out a bad man.”
“It is about that.”
“No, this is revenge for you.”
“It’s both.”
I draw in a slow breath. “You didn’t tell me.”
“I didn’t want you to look at me the way you’re looking at me now.”
I cock my head, opening my eyes. “And how’s that?”
“With disgust.” He leans back, arms crossed over his broad chest. “My motives might not be pure. I want to hurt Burian for hurting me, but I’m not wrong when I say the world will be better without him.”
“You’re using me.” I whisper the words softly. “You’re dragging me through this hell for your own personal vendetta.”
“Would you have helped if I had told you that up front?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “But at least I would have been given a choice.”
His jaw works. “You would’ve acted like everything I said was biased and worthwhile, but I’m not wrong. Yes, I want to hurt Burian for what he did to me, but he’s still murdering FBI agents. He’s still a psychopath. He’s still dangerous.”
I finally stand, unable to take this. “You should’ve told me.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
“But you didn’t. And I guess we can’t do anything about it now.” I walk to the kitchen and lean against the island, my back to him. “What else have you kept from me?”
“A lot,” he says quietly. “But nothing that’s important here.”
“I’m not sure I trust your judgment there.”
“You want all my dirty laundry? My whole list of sins? We’ll be here a long time, Renata.”
“Then start talking.”
He slowly stands. I tremble as he comes toward me and flinch when he reaches out. For a moment, his hand hovers in the air between us, but it drops away. “I’ve been as honest as I know how to be,” he says, tone pained. “I’ve been a spy and a thief for a very long time.”