Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
This isn’t the first time we’ve had a conversation like this.
“I know. It ain’t ideal. But it’s our best option.”
“Why couldn’t we stage one of the Watsons up there instead?”
The Watsons are all stationed strategically around the perimeter. Charlie and Brenden are in character, slap-fighting on the corner. Or maybe they’re just slap-fighting independent of the dumb Cockney guys they’re supposed to be playing. Could go either way.
Russell’s parked halfway down the block to chase down anybody who might escape the other safeguards we have in place.
And Eliza…
Eliza’s not here. She’s at the dropoff location, pissed. But it was the right decision. She punched every one of her brothers multiple times when they tried to tell her that the best thing right now is for her to wait there because she’s too emotional over the abduction of her daughter.
“Too emotional?” she exclaimed. “Would you call a man too emotional? Fuck you, you stupid cunt!” And then the punching.
Finally, Russell appealed to her sense of reason by suggesting that if she just marched into the Lynch shop and started shooting people—which she seemed determined to do—we’d never get the information we need to find Theo and Alexandria. Andra.
She said, “Right. Fine. But you arseholes better come away from it all with rock-solid information about where to find my child or I will…”
She didn’t finish the sentence. Just more punching.
So it’s right that she hangs back while we find out what we can, but I’m a little nervous. Because we have no idea if we’re even on the right track. It’s just the only track we’ve got at the moment.
We do know that Brasil killed Lars. He left a note confirming as much. A note to taunt us. Because he’s a fucking asshole and I regret ever having partnered up with the guy.
And while we can’t dispute that he’s responsible for what happened, what I can’t figure out, for the life of me, is why. Why the big, elaborate plan? I’ve been trying to piece it together over and over in my head, but I still can’t make complete sense of it.
So, Lars is having an affair with Christine. Copy. Can’t blame him. Christine is… Christine. She’s hard not to want. Especially when being with her means that you’re also fucking over your brother who you feel abandoned you and who you want to hurt more than anything. Which requires that in addition to being vengeful you’re a little bit of a sociopath. But he is a van den Berg, so that part actually makes sense.
And…
Lars is also scheming behind Alec’s back to be in business with Brasil. Okay, fine. I get that part too. He wants to step out from behind the shadow of Alec and take control of some kind of big diamond- and human-trafficking crime operation himself. Or whatever. Super. Good for him. Love a go-getter.
And…
Lars then betrays both Alec and Brasil, sacrificing Christine in the process so that he can draw Alec into the open, put all of us together again, and then kill me and Alec. Dramatic, but again, very van den Berg.
But…
Lars didn’t count on Christine shooting Alec off the edge of a waterfall. Didn’t count on, I guess, Brasil watching the whole thing go down. Didn’t count on being rescued along with Alec, propped up in a goddamn English country estate, and then held there until Christine found Alec, came back for me, and the two of us set off to rescue him. (This part seems excessively ornate and a little far-fetched, but it’s all that I’ve been able to come up with.)
So…
Brasil goes through this whole, big, overly complicated fucking thing… for what? To kill me? Just to torture poor old Lars? To what end? And why did he steal Eliza’s kid? He couldn’t have even known about the Watsons and Andra. Hell, I didn’t know about the Watsons and Andra until we got to England. And… and… and…
Fuck. It makes my head hurt. I scrub my hands against my face.
“Because Christine is better with a sniper rifle than an entire team of Navy fuckin’ SEALS,” says Alec. “And because you, me, and Christine don’t need comms to communicate. We’ll be fine.”
“I—What?”
“You asked why we didn’t put a Watson on the roof.”
“Oh.”
Alec’s eyes narrow at me and he cocks his head as if searching. “Where did you just go there, Danny boy?”
“Nowhere. Nothing. What?”
“Danny. I just said we don’t need comms to communicate. What’s going on?”
“I dunno. I can’t figure it out.”
“Figure what out?”
“All of this,” I say, the exhaustion and exasperation of my whole life creeping into my voice despite my effort to keep it away. “I’m just trying to—”
“Stop,” Alec interrupts. “Stop, man. Don’t let your head go there. Be here. Now. Or, better yet, be two minutes ahead. Put your mind on the task in front of us. Don’t focus on what’s behind. Focus on what’s in front.”