he had tried developing ways to combat infection. He had stolen antibiotics and done everything in his power to save the children in that prison of a school he’d lived in.
Their lessons weren’t about etiquette like the other schools. They didn’t learn manners and what kinds of rules society cared about. They learned languages, so they could be sent out to kill. They learned sex, so they could be sent out to kill. He’d learned to become a doctor, so he could be sent out to kill. Everything they did was for that one purpose—their only purpose. No one expected that any of them would survive, let alone go free.
Sorbacov knew they were killing their instructors, the pedophiles who were there to commit whatever atrocity they chose without fear of retaliation. He knew what the children were doing, but he didn’t know how. He set up cameras throughout the schools, so that every room was covered. He’d done so with the intent to blackmail any participant that later might oppose his chosen candidate. Films of them as children being raped still circulated among child predators, but Sorbacov had never caught any of the them on film killing their wardens.
That was all Czar. His brains. His plans. He had slowly recruited those children he believed wouldn’t betray the others—and they hadn’t. All of them had been interrogated at one time or another, and those sessions had been pure torture. None of them had broken.
“I don’t know where the kid is. Bridges took him. He’s in the wind,” Bruiser sobbed. “You have to believe me. I’m telling the truth.”
Steele shook his head slowly. “The thing is, Bruiser, I don’t have to believe you. You told me that you were going to personally take my son and sell him to a guy you know who loves little kids. You told me you would then go after Breezy and do all sorts of things to her—some, by the way, I’m not certain you could actually do. So, no, I don’t believe you when you tell me you don’t know where Zane is. We’re just going to have to keep going.”
“No. No. Really, I didn’t have anything to do with it,” Bruiser sobbed. “You can’t blame us. We weren’t going to help him.”
“Didn’t you just tell me you were going to shove your dick down my woman’s throat until she choked on it? Didn’t you say that to me?”
Bruiser opened his mouth and the cattle prod was pushed inside. Dart’s body shook as he watched his friend’s face contort. As he watched the body nearly seize with shock as Bruiser took the prod to the back of his throat.
“Steele, for God’s sake, he doesn’t know shit. He was talking crap, that’s all. Bridges was higher than a kite when he came back to the clubhouse with Breezy’s kid in tow. He acted like he won the lottery. Ever since Habit’s been gone, we’ve had to lick his boots. He told Lizard to get Candy and bring her to the clubhouse. While he waited he told us that he had you by the balls and he was forcing Breezy to kill you and Czar both. He kept laughing and doing lines of coke. That boy made a sound, and Bridges lambasted him across the face. Even Junk didn’t go near Bridges, he was so fucked up.”
Steele could hear the ring of truth in Dart’s voice. It didn’t shock him that Dart told the truth about Bridges. He couldn’t imagine how anyone would want to back a man who put himself before his brothers. Habit had run a trafficking ring, but he’d put his brothers first. Bridges had no idea how to do that. He was too far gone on booze and drugs. Had Czar gone that route, any one of the Torpedo Ink members would have put him down. They would force him to dry out first to see if it worked, but if it didn’t he would be dead.
“Not our fault,” Bruiser sobbed when he could find his voice. “We didn’t have nothing to do with it.”
“You were sitting on a stakeout waiting for my woman to come back to her apartment, or for one of us to show up. You planned on killing Master, didn’t you? You had your gun out.” Steele kept his tone mild.
Maestro handed him a bottle of water and Steele opened it and drank. Both prisoners stared at the water, unable to take their eyes from the bottle with the