“See, Ibrahim?” Blake nudged the corpse’s leg with the toe of his shoe. “Just as dead as he would’ve been if I’d held the gun pressed up to his forehead or kept the barrel between his teeth. It might be less dramatic to shoot someone from five feet away, but it’s just as effective, so why should the potential victim be any less scared?”

“You killed him,” Sasha muttered in disbelief. “You killed him. You killed a man. You killed him.”

“It’s okay,” Blake assured her. “He deserved it. You see? If someone deserves to die, then there’s nothing to be sad about. It’s justice. That’s all. Isn’t that right, Ibrahim?”

“Yes, sir,” he said softly, staring at the corpse. Then he muttered a quiet prayer in Arabic.

Blake turned to his men. “Clear the chair. Let’s let Ibrahim have his turn. Keep the plastic where it is.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Ibrahim begged. “Please, sir—”

But Blake quieted him by patting him on the shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

Sasha’s eyes widened. “Sweetie, you’re not—”

He put a gentle finger to her lips. “Shh.”

She looked like she was losing her balance so he supported her, helping her to the bed in the adjoining room. “Take a little time. Lie down. I know watching that was hard.”

“You’re not gonna kill me too, are you?” she gasped.

“Why would I kill you? You haven’t betrayed me.” He kissed her forehead tenderly, the way a father might treat his daughter. “I’ll be back to check on you later. I want you to stay here with me today. Don’t worry. I’ll pay you double for your time.” He eyed the two mannequins standing nearby in the room. “I have something for you, something special to help you forget what you just saw in there.”

“What is it?”

“A treat, darling. One to carry you away.”

Then, he returned to the plastic tarp and directed the gun at Ibrahim. “Now, we could do this Hollywood style, up close and personal, but that isn’t really necessary, is it?”

“No, no, Fayed.”

“Like I said, we’re just going with Blake today. Now. You were responsible for getting the Tranadyl to the greenhouse and, as far as I’ve heard, the canisters have not yet been shipped.”

“I’ve been trying to arrange things.”

“Trying to. Are you keeping any secrets from me?”

“No, sir.”

“Are the canisters on their way?”

“That’s what I needed to tell you. The chemist. He’s not cooperating.”

“The one in Phoenix.”

“Yes.”

“Reese.”

“Right. Yes. Reese.”

“He was your responsibility.”

“I know. But he wants to pull out. I had nothing to do with that. I swear!”

“We need his product shipped and ready to go by Tuesday morning.”

“That’s what I told him. He is aware of the deadline.”