Page 133 of G.O.D.S Omnibus

The days quickly turn into weeks, and we’re still no closer to knowing why Mr Z has so many people at the school. My training is going well. I can now confidently say I can shoot and kill someone at least seventy percent of the time—good enough odds for me.

Today I finally get to meet my uncle, Ziyon. I’ve been growing impatient, wanting to know what he plans. So far, I have been putting in the hard work of getting to know Mr Z and trying to find out what his connection is to the secret organisation in his will. There’s no chance in hell I would hand the company over to a man I have never met. And if he really could take down Mr Z, why hasn’t he done it yet? There are so many unknowns in this situation, and that doesn’t sit well with me.

Brennan drives us to an underground parking garage located in a less than desirable neighbourhood. Apparently, Ziyondoesn’t let more than one of the guys into his house at a time, and that in itself tells me he is scared of them.

After weaving through a few rows, he finds an empty spot and parks. We exit the car simultaneously, and I smooth down my blouse as we walk to what looks like an elevator. Brennan reaches out, placing his hand on a black box off to the side of the metal doors. A beep rings out in the expansive space as it scans his fingers, and the doors slide open. We step inside, and after another scan of his fingers, the elevator jolts, but instead of going up, we move down. When the doors finally slide open, the view of an underground tunnel greets my eyes. It’s nothing fancy, just looks like a large water drain. Our path is only visible because of the torch on Brennan’s phone, which he turned on the second we stepped out.

“We have to walk from here. It’s about one kilometre, so it shouldn’t take us longer than ten minutes.”

“What a load of shit, Brenny. I dressed up for this. These”—I point to my shoes, even though he can’t see them—“are not walking heels,” I complain.

“I did try to warn you that you should have worn more comfortable shoes,” he says as we continue walking, theclick clackof my heels echoing through the tunnel.

“Right,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. “Then I couldn’t have worn a power suit and looked like I actually have my shit together. First impressions are important.”

We keep moving forward, and I wonder how many of these underground tunnels exist. It makes sense that someone wanting to not be tracked would go underground where there is no service. Unless we have microchips inside us. If we are viewed as someone’s property, wouldn’t that make sense? Since I was away for years, I would have to presume that I’m not or Mr Z would have brought my ass right back. That makes me wonder... Why hasn’t he chipped us? Does he think he holdsthat much power over everyone? If he does, his ego must be so damn big.

“Are we microchipped?” I ask.

“Yes. But Marlow managed to hack into our chips, so we have full control and can scramble the signal for a few hours. If Mr Z checks on us, it will look like we’re still in the parking garage. The building is registered as a clothing store, so he will just think we are out shopping.”

“How the hell was I chipped and when?”

“When you first came back. I had to do it at the motel when you were sleeping.”

“How the fuck did I sleep through that?”

“I administered a sedative beforehand—it’s similar to chloroform—then a needle in the back of your neck.”

My hand slides around the back of my neck, feeling for this microchip. If I didn’t know it was there, I wouldn’t have been able to feel it. I shudder as my finger runs over the slight protrusion.

After what feels like hours, we come to a stop at a ladder on the right side of the tunnel.

“This just keeps getting better and better,” I mutter under my breath.

Brennan climbs up first and pushes open a metal grate at the top of the ladder. He pulls himself out as I make my way to the top, then helps me the rest of the way out and closes the grate behind us. I take in my surroundings and see that we’re inside a lavish backyard, with three armed guards pointing their guns at us.I did just say this was getting better. One lowers his gun as he stalks over to us and pats Brennan down. When the guard is satisfied he’s not hiding any weapons, he moves closer to me.

“Now I understand why you came with me.” My words end on a laugh. Chester would lose his damn mind if he could see the way this slimeball is leering at me.

He steps closer and I raise my arms in the air as his meaty hands run over my curves. I restrain from kneeing him in the nose when he gets a little too close to my inner thigh. Once he’s satisfied that neither of us has any weapons, we’re instructed to follow him inside.

The house is absolutely beautiful, reminding me of a Tuscan villa. We are led into a dining area where the mirror image of Mr Z sits sipping a coffee and talking on his phone. We stand and wait while he finishes his conversation in a language that I don’t understand but think could be German.

“Please, sit,” he says, motioning to the empty chairs when he finally ends the call.

Brennan and I take a seat next to each other and opposite him; I want to be able to look him in the eye as we speak. The guards that accompanied us inside fall back far enough to give us privacy.

“Thank you for meeting with me,” I say, and he smiles.

“You look so much like your mother—it’s like I have gone back in time.” He tilts his head to the side, considering me. “Besides the eyes. You get those from our mother.”

“I’ve seen a few pictures of her, and she was beautiful.”

“That she was. Now, Brennan tells me you want to have a discussion with me. I’m sorry that it took so long to arrange this meeting, but I was out of the country on business.”

“That’s totally fine,” I murmur with a wave of my hand. “I don’t want to beat around the bush, though. There are a number of things I think I’m entitled to know, but the most important question is—what is the overall plan? What’s the plan with your brother and why is he still alive? What’s your plan where Olympia and the teams are concerned, and what is your plan regarding me?”

He laughs and leans back in his seat. “All valid questions. My brother is a crazy bastard—to put it lightly. I’ve wanted tomake a move for a while, but we needed to know who would get the company after his demise. We recently came into more information on that matter, and I made some calls to the new woman in charge, hence my recent travel. It was not an easy meeting, to say the least. Her and her men were not very forthcoming, and they wanted to meet with you, as you’re the other person listed. I passed along Brennan’s contact details and her assistant will be in touch shortly. We need her to agree to sign the company over if my brother doesn’t change his will first.”

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