“And the sorcerers at Haven?”
“They will be gone five minutes after I have confirmation of the kill.”
“One second past and I will show you what a life of hell looks like,” Monty said. “When is the vehicle being delivered?”
“Midnight tomorrow, 135 West Broadway, here,” Rott said, pointing to a different location on the map. “I’ll drive south for two blocks and stop here”—he pointed to the block between Reade and Chambers Streets.—“while you will wait here in Bogardus Plaza. Strong will take up his position four blocks away, on Murray Street. Once Balfour exits the vehicle, you confront him and Strong takes the shot. This whole op should take no more than one minute beginning to end.”
“Do not deviate from this plan,” Douglas added. “One minute of your life to make the city safer, get justice for Rott, and be free of Shadow Company, forever.”
“We meet here tomorrow at ten p.m.,” Rott said, rolling up the map. “Douglas will kit you out then. Don’t be late, and don’t try to contact Haven, your Director friend at the NYTF, or those creatures in the Dark Council. I’d hate to have to start this op with the mass extermination of helpless patients.”
We exited the trailer in silence.
TWENTY-TWO
“He’s surprisingly well informed,” Monty said once we were outside. “How connected is Shadow Company?”
“Very,” I said. “They’re small, but nimble. Douglas knows people in high and low places. Same with Rott, although I don’t know if his contacts are willing to work with the new and improved Reptilian Rott.”
“They’ve been planning this for some time,” Monty said. “The networks are too extensive. Inserting himself into the Balfour Enclave was ingenious. For a moment, I thought Cecil’s security protocols were compromised.”
“We could just blow up the trailer,” I said, glancing over my shoulder as we walked back to the Dark Goat. “It would be clean and surgical, like a nuke.”
Peaches nudged my leg with a low growl of approval. He sounded like I felt. I wanted to tear Rott apart, but knew it would put too many people in danger.
“Rott probably has a failsafe in place to trigger the sorcerers in Haven if he dies of unnatural causes—a failsafe like a surgical nuke,” Monty said, the anger and frustration clear in his voice. “Either that or he has regular check-ins to ensure his sleepers remain dormant at Haven until instructed otherwise.”
“Monty, I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t think he would threaten Roxanne or Haven.”
“That’s why he did,” Monty said, getting into the Dark Goat. “He counted on the element of surprise to force me to face Balfour. It worked. It’s not your fault, but he threatened Roxanne. As long as he lives, he’s a threat.”
I remained silent for a few seconds, but the message was clear. Rott was living on borrowed time.
“You can’t face Magnus,” I said, changing the subject, and sliding behind the wheel as my hellhound conquered the backseat. “Even after your schism, he’s too strong.”
“I have no intention of fighting a dragon, Magnus or otherwise,” Monty said as I drove away. “The same way you can’t eliminate the leader of a dragon enclave.”
“Well, I’m glad we agree on that,” I said with a sigh. “How exactly are we not supposed to kill Balfour, but make it look like we did?”
“How good a shot are you, really?”
“No wind, elevated position, a good spotter, and an excellent weapon, 2000 meters,” I said. “I won’t have a spotter, and I don’t know what kind of rifle they have prepped. Factoring for little to no wind, and the elevated position, four city blocks is about 1000 meters, well within my range.”
“I have an idea of how we can do this, but it’s going to require exceptional accuracy from you,” Monty said. “Can you manage that?”
“How exceptional?” I asked, glancing at Monty. This train of thought was beginning to sound like a bad idea. The problem was that we only had bad ideas and worse ideas at the moment. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m going to need you to shoot through me and into Balfour—without killing me, of course,” Monty said. “I can make it look like it was a fatal wound and put Balfour in stasis long enough to convince Rott.”
“Shoot? Through you?” I asked in disbelief. “You want me to shoot you?”
“Through me,” Monty stressed. “Without hitting major organs, would be an added benefit.”
“Oh, is that all? Shoot through you and maybe curve the bullet around your major organs so it can look like you were hit and killed along with Balfour. That about the gist of your request?”
“Yes, my suits are runed to neutralize most small-arms fire if I manage to get shot.”
“Did you see the round Douglas showed us?” I asked. “That is nowhere near small-arms fire. A .22 caliber is small-arms fire: that .50 cal round will punch a hole through your suit, you, and anything behind you. The entrance wound will be the size of my index finger and the exit wound will be you splattered all over the street. No way.”
“What would happen if I could decrease the velocity?” Monty asked pensively. “It would diminish the lethality of the round, correct?”
“Considerably, but you’re talking about slowing down something coming at you at 853 meters per second. You’d have a little over one second to react from the moment I fire.”
“1.1 seconds exactly,” Monty said. “Plenty of time. This is what I propose…”
I remained silent as he explained his idea. About two minutes in, I started shaking my head.
“Too many things can go wrong, Monty,” I said. “It would be easier to put one in Rott and—”
“You’re forgetting Haven,” Monty said. “We can’t risk Rott unleashing his sorcerers.”
“Shit,” I said, hitting the steering wheel. “This is too dangerous.”
“We have alternatives.”
“Really? Like?” I said, heading into the Moscow garage. “Our choices are either bad or horrific.”
“If we kill Rott and Douglas, everyone in Haven dies,” Monty said. “If you somehow manage to kill Magnus, the resulting war will create untold
