38. Typhon

38

TYPHON

T he amount of rage filling my body felt like enough to break through the chains that bound me and kill the man in front of me with my bare hands.

If I could speak, I had no idea what I'd say. I could barely think, and part of me still believed I was either dreaming or hallucinating.

I could feel hatred seeping from every pore when my eyes met his. "You fucking bastard," I seethed.

"I had no choice."

"We lost five of your men that day. Rile and I were seconds away from death ourselves. You were dead."

"I was close."

"Who saved you, your Russian comrades?"

His lack of response was enough of an answer.

"If I hadn't gone along with what they wanted, they would've killed my wife and daughter."

"She isn't your daughter," I spat at him.

"I raised her and loved her."

I shook my head. "You didn't love her or Nina."

"You're wrong. Everything I did was to save their lives."

I leered at him. "Why am I here?"

"We have reason to believe the internal affairs report that was supposed to have been destroyed has been found, along with additional evidence implicating several double agents who were working with the Federal Security Service."

"For the Russians," I spat again. "Say it, Jekyll. You were working for the fucking Russians. You make me sick." Something else occurred to me. "The contracted hits on the two dons. You're working with the Calabrians and Sicilians, aren't you?"

"I need to know what evidence SIS has. The extent of it."

For the second time, his lack of response to my question confirmed my suspicions. This time, I'd press harder. "Are you working with the Italian syndicates?"

The man I'd once idolized sneered at me. "Did you really think your secure app was impenetrable?"

"You hacked into it?"

He shook his head as if I was a child. "You're catching on, Typhon. Now, tell me what I want to know. What is the extent of the evidence SIS has?"

"You plucked the wrong man. I know nothing about the report or any other evidence against you. If I had, you'd be a dead man."

Jekyll stood. "I'm giving you one more chance, Typhon."

I shook my head, chuckling like a madman. "Fuck off."

Jekyll looked at me. "There's nothing I can do to help you if you don't cooperate."

"I'd sooner die."

He looked up at someone I didn't realize was behind me and nodded. Something that felt like a big rock crashed into my skull, and everything went black.

When I opened my eyes again, I was alone, as far as I could tell. When I heard the familiar sound of a creaking door opening, I lowered my head and closed my eyes, feigning sleep. The sound meant my captors were returning with yet another instrument of torture designed to make me succumb and confess, which was impossible for me to do, regardless of what they—or Jekyll—did to me.

My head sprang up, and my eyes opened wide when what I heard instead of them coming for me was gunfire. Several rounds of it. Along with it were shouts of people clearing rooms, others confirming those shot—whoever they were—were dead. Every word I heard was spoken in an English accent I was too out of it to say I recognized.

The door sprung open, and I grimaced. Friend or foe, I wondered.

"We've got him! He's in here." In my delirium, I could swear the voice belonged to Saint.

"Typhon! Can you hear me?" a different voice asked.

I opened one eye and looked into Brand's, then slipped back under, though I could still hear voices.

"Eliza, it's Niv. We've found him, luv. He's alive. Pretty beat up, but alive." There was a pause. "I'll be sure to let him know."

I pried my eyes open again. The two men were trying to get me free while others came rushing into the room. "Saint?"

He looked up at me. "Eliza said to tell you she loves you."

"Jekyll?"

He stopped what he was doing and stood. "Was he here?

"Affirmative."

He raced from the room, along with several others.

"Let's get him on the stretcher, boys." I looked up at Seshat. "Hello, Typhon. I brought you something special this time."

"What's that?" I managed to say when I was finally free and they were trying to get me out of the chair and onto the stretcher.

"Meds. Enough to make a wounded elephant feel no pain."

"Pain," I groaned as they laid me on the stretcher, and I passed out again.

The next time I came to, I looked into the eyes of an angel. "El," I whispered.

"Levi." She leaned down and brushed my lips with hers.

"Where am I?"

"At the Medical Military Academy Hospital in Belgrade."

"Serbia?"

"Yes, my love." She gently dabbed a cold compress on my forehead. "As soon as you're stable enough, there's a plane on standby to take you home."

"Casa Melro?"

She smiled. "Sadly, no. To London. I promise that the minute you're well enough, I will have Angel bring us there myself."

"I love you, Eliza Marras."

Her eyes filled with tears, but her smile was broad. "I love you, husband."