There’s only one small container that was not put up for auction. This box Divan takes to his personal quarters for safekeeping.
Although new AWOLs have been brought to the Lady Lucrezia from his Russian holding facility—enough to fill all the empty beds in the harvest drum—Divan takes none of them on board.
“Next time,” he tells his confused supply crew. “Pay the parts pirates what we owe them, and next time I’ll take them on board.”
As for Sonthi, Divan does not put him off the plane. He tells his sister that he’s had a change of heart and wants more time to consider their proposal. The Lady Lucrezia is refueled and airborne again in half an hour.
But shortly after reaching cruising altitude, Divan notices several things that could only be called red flags. His chef will not look him in the eye; Bula is mysteriously missing; and the portside windows bring in a spectacular sunrise—which means they’re heading on a southerly course instead of due west, as is Divan’s traditional flight plan. He doesn’t need a compass to know that they’re heading for Burma and that the pilots are now working for the Dah Zey.
All these things he keeps to himself at breakfast, playing his own hand very close to the vest. Even Skinner has a poker face this morning, although he does give Divan a surreptitious nod to indicate that they are in league.
Malik is late for breakfast. No one is concerned.
“You should send Skinner to get him,” Dagmara tells Divan. “Eggs Benedict is his favorite.”
“I’m sure he’ll be along shortly,” Divan assures her. It’s as Skinner brings the morning espresso that Divan turns to Sonthi. “Now, let us discuss the terms of your proposal.”
Both Dagmara and Sonthi watch with interest as Divan takes his time squeezing his lemon rind around the edge of his espresso cup.
“The terms,” Sonthi says, “have already been negotiated. There is nothing left but for you to accept them.”
Sonthi takes a sip of his espresso. Dagmara takes a sip of hers.
“In that case, there’s nothing more to discuss, is there?” Divan says, and brings his own espresso to his lips.
8 • Argent
He pours juice. He takes away plates. He watches and listens, all the while his heart pounding so painfully in his chest, he fears it may explode. Did he confuse the cups? He doesn’t trust his own memory. What a time to be uncertain.
Divan has taken a sip. All three have. How strong is the poison? How much of it must be ingested, and how long does it take to work? What sort of ninja is this clueless about his own methods?
He doesn’t need to wait long for an answer. Sonthi begins to gag and froth at the mouth and falls face forward. His head smacks the table with a thud. His eyes remain open. He’s dead.
Dagmara gasps, then throws an accusing glare at Argent. “You imbecile! What have you done!”
“Precisely what I expected he would do,” Divan says. “Well played, Skinner.”
“Do you have any idea what the Dah Zey will do when they find out he’s dead?”
“That,” says Divan, “is no longer your concern.” Then he pulls out a gun and fires.
It’s a tranq. It hits Dagmara squarely in the chest. She mumbles something in Chechen—most likely a curse—and her head rolls back instead of forward.
“I searched everywhere for Bula,” Argent tells Divan once Dagmara is unconscious. “He’s not on board anymore. They must have killed him when we landed.”
“Or sent him out the Sayonara Hatch.” Divan shakes his head. “Pool Bula, he deserved better.”
“What do you want me to do now?” Argent asks.
Divan smiles. “You would do anything I asked, wouldn’t you, Argent? Such loyalty is a rare commodity in this world.”
Would he do anything for Divan? Argent wonders. This man who cut off the good half of his face and gave it to Nelson—then turned him into an indentured servant in order to earn back the right to have a face again? Argent finds that his answer is yes. He would do anything Divan wished of him. Argent wonders if that makes him broken, or noble.
Divan leans back, as if he has no care in the world. “Go tell the chef that we’ll all be having lamb for lunch. That will keep him busy for a while. And while you’re at it, please bring me another espresso.”
9 • Dagmara
She awakens to find herself staring at a sea of soulless faces. For a moment she thinks it’s a dream, until she realizes