FOURTEEN
Kelvin Dillon stood up so fast the chair toppled over behind him. He ignored the crash as it hit the ground, focused on the captain of the Brimfield Security Guard. ‘How many did you get?’
‘We captured eleven of Kyle’s people,’ David Flanders said. ‘Most of them appear to be half-breeds, with only a few wardens. My men are taking them to the detention centre as we speak.’
Kelvin stiffened. ‘Kyle wasn’t among them? What about the bastard half-breed that murdered my son?’
‘There was no sign of Kyle. As for Hanson Forsythe …’ David winced. ‘He was with this group, but he got away.’
Heat suffused Kelvin’s face, hands clenching into fists as he shouted, ‘You let him get away? That man killed my son in cold blood, and you let him escape?’
David stiffened. ‘He has nowhere to run. W
