Bloodbound: The Alliance
Chapter 65 - 67

Chapter 65: Chapter 67

Akio POV

"Your gears are burning, Akio," he says with a piranha-like grin. "Relax, if I wished for war, I would’ve had you killed the moment you stepped onto my estate. To my understanding, my son was handling a deal on my behalf, yes?"

My brow inclines slightly but I don’t question the ease in which he sweeps aside his son’s mutilation for money-making. In fact, I invite cold-hearted apathy as I step closer, relieved that just another crisis is averted. This time. There’s no telling when Botan’s fortunes turn against him.

"The haul is projected to net us a 30% return on investment, factoring in the bribes and operational costs. The goods are valued at $15 million, but with our current distribution channels, but as recompense for your son, I can push the margin up to 35%," I say as I move over to seat myself on his chesterfield armchair. "The Baltic route remains the most secure option for transit—shorter distances, fewer checkpoints—but you’ll need to reinforce the escort once it enters international waters."

He leans back into his executive chair. "Two vessels, fully armed, will tail the cargo ship. But we’ll need to keep the local and foreign coast guard distracted. That’s where the minister comes in."

I flick him an interested look.

"He’s already agreed to sign off the customs paperwork, clearing the shipment as industrial equipment. Harbour access is locked. Of course, he’ll expect his usual cut, 10% off the top."

A bright spot to a dark day. "A greedy man is my favorite man." I slap my hands on the arms of the chair to push myself onto my feet. "I’ve coordinated with the dock supervisor before the whole... incident. The cargo will be ready to be offloaded and transferred to the trucks within an hour of arrival. The drivers are our own men, and the route to the warehouse avoids high-surveillance zones. From there, distribution is seamless. We’ll have the goods moving within 24 hours."

***

I’m back at Botan’s primary compound—at least in this part of the country.

There are two guards manning the entrance of the dungeons detached from the main building. I go up to one of them to snatch the keys from his belt. Both of their eyes are fixed ahead, trained to ignore anything but a direct command. The front door creaks open under my hand, and the stale, damp air rushes out, carrying a stench of despair and decay. I make the short descent into a dimly lit expanse with rows of iron cells containing high-value prisoners.

Our newest addition lies sprawled on the earthen floor, his form barely recognizable as human. His body is a grotesque lump of agony—bulging lumps distort his face, severe gashes that dig deep into his flesh, and his skin is stained so thoroughly with blood it seems as though he’s been bathing in it. The crimson pools beneath him glisten in the dim torchlight, each drip echoing the violence he’s endured.

The key grates against the lock, the sound cutting through the silence. The cell door groans open and I slide it to the slide.

"Get up, detective."

Simon stirs, his trembling hand clutching his blood-soaked shirt. His breaths are shallow, labored, each one rattling against his clearly bruised ribs.

"I won’t repeat myself."

He moves, painstakingly slow, his body convulsing with the effort. His legs wobble as he pushes himself to his knees, then his feet, but the pain is too much. He crumples before he can stand, and instinct takes over as I catch him mid-fall. His weight is dead, a lifeless sack of battered flesh and bones.

I grip him roughly, forcing him upright as I haul him out of the cell and into the corridor. His feet scrape against the floor, leaving a faint trail of blood in our wake. The guards stationed above don’t even blink as we pass. They know better than to question me. Every man here understands the chain of command—my orders come directly from Botan, sometimes even Haru, and no one dares interfere with that.

Eventually, as if trying to shove excess luggage into the trunk of a car, I force Simon inside. Closing the passenger door, I make my way to climb into the driver’s seat. His stare, the sight of his disgustingly marred face glaring at me feels like a bloody curse. The car launches forward and I make the journey out of the compound. The main gates pick up my tags and they open automatically and still Simon stares.

"Where—" heave, "— "are—" longer heave, "—we going?" he asks, his words nothing but a raspy gasp.

"Our interrogators clearly didn’t do a good job if you can still talk."

He shifts painfully, hand still clutching his stomach like his guts might spill out.

"Bury me?"

"Let’s play a game of Simon says... and I say, Simon shut up."

"Not how it works," he retorts irksomely before he bursts into a fit of coughs, hacking into his arm with fresh blood speckled on the torn sleeve. A trickle of red seeping from the corner of his mouth.

"You’re... not... going to kill me," he says, every breath an effort but still he persists.

I wipe my mouth with one hand as I watch the vacant road. I didn’t really have a master plan here, just an idea of a plan—a shadow of strategy looming over my mind. Formed but undeveloped and that kind of carelessness would be certain failure but with Botan’s focus occupied, it’s something that may escape his notice.

"Why?" Simon tries again, his voice unsteady but his will is enduring.

"Haru wants you dead—he always has," I answer to shut him up. "But Botan wants you alive because Avara wants you alive—so you’re alive. To obey Botan in this would be to defy Haru, which is unthinkable. But frankly... I fear what Botan might to do me more than Haru."

The air goes serious, a serious silence as he contemplates what this means to him. And all of a sudden a rough rumble begins and he starts to laugh, a jagged sound. Blood bubbling with his slinking saliva glistening his mouth, exposing his reddened teeth.

"Something funny to you?"

"If you wanted to honor his order, you could’ve just left me in his custody," he says in half-gasping sentences. "It makes no sense to move me from a heavily guarded fortress. I was bagged on my way there and even then I heard the voices of dozens of men. You’re not moving me for safekeeping. You’re sabotaging Botan."