Chapter 556
Chapter 556:
“Fine,” Quintus said softly. He opened his eyes. “If I cannot have her right now, I will make sure she has nothing to go back to p>
He walked to a sleek black desk and picked up a secure satellite phone. He dialed an international number.
The phone rang three times before a woman answered.
“Hello.” The voice was sharp, arrogant, and completely stripped of the frail weakness she usually projected. It was Wendy Koch. She was standing perfectly upright before a mirror in her private quarters, studying her own reflection. She kicked her prop wheelchair aside with a disgusted sneer.
“Mrs. Koch,” Quintus said, leaning against the edge of the desk. “I trust the funds I transferred to your offshore accounts have cleared p>
“They have,” Wendy replied, her voice carrying a faint echo, as though she stood in a large, empty room. “The mercenary team is in position outside the New York estate. We are waiting for your signal p>
“The signal is green,” Quintus stated coldly. “Burn the estate to the ground. Take the old woman hostage. I want the Koch family completely dismantled by the time Eliza lands p>
“Consider it done,” Wendy said. The line went dead.
Quintus set the phone on the desk and looked at Barnaby.
Dіѕ𝖼ov𝘦𝘳 𝘩i𝗱𝖽𝖾𝘯 g𝘦𝗺ѕ 𝘰ո
“Prepare my car,” Quintus ordered. “We are going to Boston. I want to be in the operating room when Dallas Koch takes his last breath p>
Barnaby bowed. “Yes, sir. How do you wish to proceed at the hospital p>
Quintus walked to a glass cabinet and pulled open the door. He removed a small, heavy metal canister — matte black, with a biohazard warning symbol stamped on the side.
“Ghost brought his elite security team. Bullets will be too messy,” Quintus said. He tossed the canister to Barnaby, who caught it with both hands. “Put this into the independent ventilation loop of the underground surgical wing p>
Quintus smiled — a sick, twisted expression.
“Let’s see how well his bodyguards can fight when their lungs collapse, without alerting the rest of the hospital to our presence p>
At Logan International Airport in Boston, the black helicopter touched down on the private tarmac. The side door slid open and the freezing wind whipped into the cabin.
Eliza sat motionless in her seat. Her fingers gripped the small crumpled piece of paper so tightly her knuckles had gone white.
Boss is lying. He is staying awake during the bone surgery.
The words burned into her mind.
“Madam.” A large man in a black tactical suit leaned into the cabin. He was one of Dallas’s elite guards. “The jet is fueled and ready. Please step this way p>
Eliza slowly raised her head and looked at him.
“I am not getting on the plane,” Eliza said. Her voice was barely a whisper, but it was completely steady.
The guard frowned. “Madam, Boss gave us strict orders. We have to put you on that plane p>
Eliza unbuckled her seatbelt. She stood, stepped out of the helicopter, and onto the icy tarmac.
The freezing wind struck her face. She did not feel the cold. She felt only a massive, burning fire in her chest.