Page 88 of Redemption
I might have lived in the darkness and the shadows, but today, every shred of truth that I’ve known all these years has been brought to light for the entire world to see.
There’s no hiding anymore, DuFort. Your entire family is disgraced.
DuFort is losing his mind over the receiver. Clearly, he hung up his call. But it doesn’t take long for him to make another.
“General. General, have you heard?”
His father. John Pierre DuFort is one of the joint chiefs of staff and an avowed Satanist who drinks the blood of tortured children in rituals to gain power. They do shit I’ve always wished weren’t real. He’s a nasty piece of work, who I’ve long wanted to wipe off this planet.
“Have I heard? Are you serious? We’re fucked. Absolutely fucked.”
“I need backup. You gotta send me people. We have to take Mount out.”
“Did you hear me, son? We’re fucked. There’s nothing we can do. He went scorched earth. There’s nothing left. Every person I could call is living their own personal hell today because of that son of a bitch. I knew I should’ve taken him out years ago. That motherfucker.”
“That’s it?” DuFort replies, disbelief dripping from his words. “You’re just … giving up? We have to do something. We have to?—”
“Do what? Suicides are already on the rise. Three of my friends ate bullets this morning. That’s what he wanted. And he’s getting it. They’re all taking themselves out. That bastard knew exactly how to cause the most chaos and destruction. Even Kostegov has already bailed. Fucking hell.”
“Then, eat a bullet if you want, old man. I’m going to fucking kill him and everyone he loves. And I’m going to start with burning that fucking distillery to the ground.”
Something thuds in the car, and my imagination tells me it’s DuFort’s phone landing against the door.
I rise, looking at Marco and J, who are still seated around the coffee table of the safe house, staring at the receiver.
“Time to end this. Let’s go.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Mount
The fire alarm is already blaring when we reach Seven Sinners, and several people are on cell phones in the parking lot.
Wearing a hat and dark glasses, Marco throws the Camry into park, and I jump out, rushing for the entrance.
“Is anyone hurt?” I yell as I run toward the shattered double glass doors.
“Mr. Mount, thank God you’re here. Where is Keira? We need her!”
“She’s on her way,” I lie to them. “Get everyone out of the building. Call the fire department and the police!”
Bullet holes riddle the wall above the whiskey-barrel reception counter that stands opposite the front entrance.
He shot his way in. Excellent. All I can hope is that DuFort hasn’t killed anyone yet. Only a handful of employees should be here right now.
I take the shortest route to the stairs, shove open the side emergency door, and use the wooden chock to keep it open for Marco and J to enter out of sight of the employees.
Now, to find DuFort. If he’s going to burn the place down, he’ll start with the still room.
It takes me less than a minute to push open the correct door. Quietly, I step out onto to the polished concrete floor. Over the intermittent fire alarm, I hear a woman shrieking.
Fuck.
“Where is she? Where is that redheaded bitch?”
DuFort has a gun to the head of one of Keira’s employees. It’s the woman who started apprenticing as a taster only a few months ago.
“I don’t know! She’s not here! I don’t know.”
