Chapter 24
After they’d used LaRouche’s shirt and pants to tie the old man to his desk chair, Yakov agreed to take Horace to a friendly hospital. He gave Frank his cell number, then bent down and lifted Horace with no visible effort.
Horace would be fine. He was in good hands. None of the tiny wounds looked bad. The combination of distance, lightweight shot, and sawed-off barrel meant the pellets hadn’t penetrated too deeply.
Frank kept telling himself that.
Meanwhile, Yvonne was still out there somewhere.
Frank watched Yakov as the foreign-born soldier carried away a man he’d just met and owed nothing. He stepped over the dead guard and went down the stairs without slowing, without hurrying.
Horace will be okay, Frank told himself. He’s a tough old bastard. He’ll be fine.
So would
