work alone, or, should I say, work alone with the girl? No, there is something else that keeps you from trying to save yourself. I wonder what it is?” Cluzet paced for a moment, thinking. “You know, Jack, it is our loyalties that bind us to our fates. Don’t you agree?”
Jack answered with a withering stare.
“Of course you do. Most men are loyal only to themselves. Oh, sure, some claim to be loyal to friends or family, but in my experience, when pressed hard enough, those loyalties are quickly abandoned. Most people love their own skins more than anything else in the world.”
Cluzet stepped closer. “But you, Jack? I’m not so sure. Liliana said you were a money man—an analyst with some bourgeois financial firm, yes?”
“Yeah.”
“Some men like you are devoted to money. But money is really about power, and power is about the self. Is that you, Jack?”
Jack knew the man wasn’t really looking for an answer.
“The noble few have no loyalties at all, not even to themselves. They are the divine ones, Jack. Men who don’t cling to the absurdity of this life and hold no delusions about the next. Only such men are truly free.”
Cluzet stepped even closer. “Is that you, Jack?” Cluzet sniffed the harsh chemical aroma on Jack’s clothing. His face soured. He shook his head. “I think not.”
Cluzet returned to his pacing. “Liliana told us everything. We’ve already changed our routes and distributors. What little you think you know is now utterly meaningless.”
Cluzet tapped the pry bar in his palm like a weapon.
“You can’t hurt us, Jack, but we can still hurt you.”
61
Hurt me?” Jack said. “Maybe. Maybe not. How about you tell these guys to back off and the two of us have a go at it? Or don’t you have the balls?”
Cluzet charged forward, whipping out a spring-loaded blade. He flicked it open and pressed its razor-sharp edge against Jack’s left cheek just below the eye.
Jack didn’t flinch.
Cluzet grinned, then slashed down, slicing the plastic cuffs binding Jack’s wrists without touching his flesh.
“Better?”
Cluzet reholstered his blade as Jack flexed his numb hands, tingling as the blood flowed back into them.
“And don’t worry yourself about my balls, Jack. I think Liliana will quite enjoy them after I get through with her—”
Jack shouted and lunged at Cluzet, but Cluzet’s men yanked him back at the last second.
Cluzet grinned. “Oh, Jack. I’ve hit a nerve!”
Cluzet’s men laughed.
“How frustrated you must feel,” Cluzet said, stabbing the air with the pry bar. “Here you are, a rich, young American, obviously strong and, I would guess, possessing some level of combat skills, judging by the way you attacked my man Hult. And yet here you stand, helpless as a mewling kitten, your woman locked in a barrel, and your privileged life in the palm”—he tapped his palm with the pry bar for emphasis—“of my hand. There’s nothing anyone can do for you. Only me.” He laughed at his own joke. “I guess that makes me your savior now, eh, Jack?”
“What the fuck do you want?”
“What do I want? I want to atone for my sins.”
Jack frowned with confusion. “You’re mixing up your metaphors, Ace.”
“Come over here. I want to show you a little trick.”
Cluzet nodded at his two men. They kept a firm grip on Jack as they walked him over to the barrel.
The French paratrooper held up the pry bar. “Here, watch how I do this—are you paying attention, Jack? It’s very important.”
“I’m watching.”
“Good. Now, see here.”
Cluzet laid the claw of the pry bar against the release clamp that held the lid in place by a metal band.
“See this? The clamp is far too tight to be opened with a human hand. It’s a chemical barrel—no spills allowed, yes? So all we do is put the claw right here and—”
The release clamp popped open, the metal band slackened, and Cluzet pulled the lid off.
“Why, hello, there, beautiful. Did you miss me?”
Liliana spit like a cobra into his smirking face.
Jack stiffened. Her hair was matted with blood, as was her upper lip from her broken nose, purpled and twisted out of joint. Her eyes, however, were still bright with defiance. “Lil!” Jack charged forward again to help her, but the two thugs held him tight. Jack struggled, but in his weakened condition he couldn’t free himself.
“Jack—”
Liliana was cut off in mid-sentence as Cluzet slammed the barrel lid back into place and clamped it shut. Her muffled, angry curses