Page 222 of Breaking Rosalind
“I speak to my brother every day,” Branson says.
“AI.”
He flinches. “What?”
“They’ve recorded every communication we’ve made over their network since we were in the academy. Our images, voices, and mannerisms, even the way we think, are all stored in computers beneath the tenth floor.”
Greta scoffs. “That’s pathetic, even for you.”
I turn to Branson. “When was the last time you saw your brother face-to-face? Surely, he would have used his vacation time to meet you somewhere?”
Branson’s face blanches, his eyes widening. “Is this how the Montesano family got you to defect?”
“You didn’t answer my question,” I reply, my lips tightening. “But let me answer yours.”
Silence stretches out across the infirmary, broken only by the beeping of monitors. I sweep my gaze over the four conscious operatives, my spine stiffening with their reflected disdain.
“I teamed up with the Montesano family the moment you let me fight those guards alone and left me to get beaten and shot. As I lay there in pain, I realized you were never my teammates, just another bunch of people who saw me as disposable.”
“So, you’re a traitor?” Greta spits, her features twisting with contempt.
“I’m finally putting myself first,” I reply. “And when the four of you tried to shift the blame for the assassination onto me, I knew I’d made the right choice.”
“You won’t get away with this,” Branson says. “Gunther will send out a rescue team.”
“Gunther didn’t give a shit about you until the Montesanos took six more hostages,” I say.
He flinches, his lips tightening with rage. “Nothing you say will change my mind. He probably sent those six on a rescue mission, but they got captured.”
It’s a good thing I only came here to get closure. Even if I wanted to save their lives, they’d still want me dead. I turn on my heel and head toward the door, ignoring Greta’s shouts that I’m a traitor.
They already put me in the line of fire twice, and now they’ve threatened my life. I’d be suicidal to ask Cesare to show them mercy.
Pausing at the door, I spare them a final glance. “Ask Gunther all about it when you see him, because they’ve finally agreed to call off the hit in exchange for your return.”
Branson huffs. “I knew he would.”
“Count your days,” Greta adds. “You won’t last long after I tell everyone you’re a turncoat.”
Nobody will live long enough to exact their revenge. Leaving that part unsaid, I walk out, ready for tomorrow’s mission.
It’s going to be trickier than the last time when Cesare handed the Moirai decoys. The location they’ve given Cesare is above the HQ, so they’re going to need all the help they can get to leave the building alive.
EIGHTY-NINE
ROSALIND
I’m no stranger to explosives. We dabbled with them in the academy, and then I launched grenades into Matteo and his henchmen. Explosives are essential to getaways on large missions, but our job the next morning is different.
This is the first mission I’ll be doing without Britt. Instead, Cesare will take the lead because his family won’t trust me until we’ve ended the threat hanging over their heads.
Hours before the hostage swap, Cesare and I are in the armory with a group of his men. One of them is a skilled getaway driver named Carlo, who everyone assures me is the best.
As the other men load one truck full of explosives, we walk around another vehicle to check that all the modifications I ordered have been installed.
“What do you think?” Cesare asks, his fingers slipping into the high collar of his armor. “Does it pass inspection?”
“It should withstand the explosions if we can get out of the building in time.” I run a gloved hand down the reinforced steel plating to the combat bumper we’re going to use as a battering ram. “But I want everyone to wear full body armor.”