Where Luca had on only handcuffs, Oscar was trussed up in what looked to be layers of silver duct tape. They dumped him on the ground beside Luca, and Oscar grunted, his eyes bright with rage.
There was tape wrapped completely around his face and head, covering his mouth. His wrists were crossed at the small of his back, bound with more tape and a pair of handcuffs. His legs were bound at the ankles and knees.
One of the men took a fresh pair of cuffs and crouched, locking it around the same looped pipe that Luca’s hands were bound to. He reached for Oscar, who head-butted him. The man’s nose broke with an audible pop, and Oscar’s eyes crinkled in a smile, until the man sucker-punched him in the stomach.
Oscar bent, sucking in air through his nose and groaning. The man with the broken nose and blood on his face locked the free end of the cuffs to the chain between the pair Oscar was already wearing.
Luca realized the wave of happiness washing through him was foolish. They were in very grave danger and it was obvious Oscar was hurt. But he was alive. Simply seeing him here, watching the brave, crazy man fight back against unbeatable odds made Luca feel better.
They were both still alive. And they were together.
He wanted to talk to Oscar, to tell him he loved him, but there were four enemies in the room, and Luca knew that silence was always safest. He met and held Oscar’s gaze. Then turned away.
The men were standing near the light from the window, the flashlight now dark. One was looking at his phone. They made no attempt to keep their voices down, so they must not have been near enough to another building for that to be of consequence, but they did seem to be worried about any light being noticed.
They were speaking openly in Serbian, which indicated they had no idea he understood the language.
“I still think we shoot him in the head and bury the body.”
“Don’t be stupid. A missing man is…” The speaker shrugged. “But a body?”
“Then we kill him and dissolve him in acid. No body. We only want the little Italian man.”
“We have to wait.” The one with the phone looked up. “The lawyer our American family hired for my sister’s husband’s cousin is going to call back with information. The black man matches the description they gave of the bodyguard for the other interested party.”
Luca blinked. Oh.
Selene and Oscar’s insane bluff back in the farmhouse no longer seemed so insane. They thought Selene was someone to be feared.
And that was keeping Oscar alive.
“Do we know who she was?” another of them asked.
The one with the phone shook his head. “American accent, but Asian.”
“Chinese,” one of the men spat. “They can’t have our bombs.”
“No, but we don’t want a fight with any of the Triad, especially not 14K.”
The men nodded in agreement, several of them looking over at Oscar.
The phone pinged, and the man holding it grunted. “Andrej says the lawyer is speaking with my sister’s cousin-by-marriage now. We will have more information soon.”
The four men walked out, their conversation turning to what kind of wine they were planning to drink while they waited, a ridiculously mundane discussion, considering they were just deciding whether or not to murder someone.
When they were out of earshot, Luca looked at Oscar.
“Mercenaries,” he whispered. “Serbian mercenaries. This time it’s the real ones, not their stupid relations.”
Oscar closed his eyes and nodded, the expression saying clearly this was what he’d expected.
“They don’t know who you are and are trying to figure it out. That, and who Selene is.”
Oscar’s eyes popped open and then he winced.
“I’ll do what I can to keep us both alive and buy time,” Luca said softly. “Oscar, I am so sorry.”
Oscar shook his head, then winked. He might be down, but Oscar was far from out.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Selene wanted to do something—walking the streets with flyers, reviewing satellite imagery, maybe beating information out of someone. Unfortunately, flyers wouldn’t help since they’d been kidnapped in a van, people more experienced than her had already reviewed all satellite footage, and there was no one she could beat up.
Selene listened as the men and women around her talked about plans and strategies. There was urgency in their voices, and she knew they were working hard, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted to scream at all of them.