Ben had known Jeff Dekker for a long time. Jeff was an intensely moral man with a strong sense of justice. He would never voluntarily bring harm on an undeserving person, still less execute fifty men in cold blood and with a clear conscience. But after the discovery of the baby, Ben had never seen his old friend more ready to dish out punishment. Jaden Wolf had been, and still was, a hardened assassin. He was used to it. As for Ben himself, he’d struggled long and hard to decide what was best. It would be all too easy to soften his resolve, show mercy and let these evil men face justice by standing trial for their crimes in a courtroom. It seemed like the right thing to do. It was certainly what Grace would have wanted him to do.

But Ben had been around long enough, and learned enough about the realities of the world, to know that not one of the Pandemonium Club would ever spend a single day in prison. The establishment to which they belonged simply would not permit that to happen. The power and influence they wielded would be used to raise a giant protective wall of lies and denial. By the time the bureaucratic disinformation machine had done its work, the scandal would be quietly buried and they would be left to walk free and return to their depraved ways. The Order would quickly be re-established. More innocents would die. Nothing would have changed.

That was why Ben felt no guilt about the three cult members he and his friends had already killed. And it was why he knew in his heart that the rest of them must also die.

Right here.

Right now.

But killing them wouldn’t be enough. To allow the public to mourn their dead leaders and public figures wasn’t an acceptable outcome. Jasper Shelton was right. The people had to know the truth about the malevolent subculture that had taken root in their society. As shocking and upsetting as it would be for them, they needed to open their eyes to the reality of the evil forces that walked in the corridors of power.

Ben said, ‘Ready?’

Jeff nodded grimly. ‘I’m ready.’

Wolf said, ‘Let’s get it done.’

They checked their weapons. Ben unlocked the doors of the banquet room and they walked in. The crowd of prisoners shrank away in fear at the sight of the guns.

Three against fifty. If the Pandemonium Club had known what was in store for them, they’d have rushed their captors in a last-ditch bid for freedom. Those who died would have gone down fighting, like men. But these weren’t men. They were cowardly subterranean slime creatures who still thought they could bargain and wheedle their way out of this.