She finally raised the barrel, not to his head, but to press it lightly, almost thoughtfully, against the center of the dragon tattoo on the back of his hand.
"The name," she said. It wasn't a question. It was the last offer. "And the location. You have three seconds to give me the quiet answer. Or I will give you permanent silence."
"One."
The man's mouth opened, but only a dry rasp came out.
"Two."
"VIKINGS!" he shrieked, the word tearing from his throat. "THEY'RE CALLED THE VIKINGS! THEIR LEADER IS MATEO! THE OLD SHIPYARD OFFICE. WAREHOUSE NINE!"
The gun didn't move. Bella's finger rested alongside the trigger, not on it. She watched the terror in his eyes, waiting for the lie. She saw none.
Slowly, she lowered the weapon. She stood up and handed it back to the guard, handle-first, as calmly as if returning a borrowed pen.
She turned to Alessandro, the serene mask back in place, her brown eyes holding a new, wintry stillness.
