The Captive

Niklaus Hassrick scowled at the tele-screen. "Dammit, Drade, what the hell happened?"

The image on the screen shrugged. "We made a mistake."

"A mistake! A mistake! Is that what you call it? You damn fool, you were supposed to wait until she was here."

Drade shrugged again. "What's done is done."

"That's all you have to say? Is that what you want me to tell Lord Brezor? I'm sorry, but what's done is done?"

"You'll think of something."

"You'd damn well better hope I do, because if I go down, I'm taking you with me. What's happening there now?"

"Everything's under control. The mine itself is undamaged. As far as everyone knows, it was an unprovoked attack by the Hodorians." Drade frowned. "Two of my men were found dead a short distance from the house."

"What happened to them?"

"I'm not sure. I think one of the servants must have killed them and escaped through the back wall. I wouldn't worry about it, though. The jungle will take care of whoever it was."

Niklaus ran a hand through his hair. This whole thing had gone from bad to worse. It had all seemed so simple at the beginning. He swore under his breath. There had to be a way to make it work. A forged letter from Marcus, perhaps, bequeathing him ownership of the mine? Or papers alleging that he had bought half the mine? One way or another, he had to gain control of the mine; it was the only way to fulfill his bargain with the Cenian ambassador, the only way to save himself from ruin.

"Hassrick?"

"You're sure she's dead?"

"The house was leveled. No one could have gotten out."

"Someone killed your men."

"Yeah, but I'm willing to bet it wasn't the girl."

Niklaus grunted softly. At the sound of his father's voice, he muttered a quick goodbye and broke the connection.

He would find a way out of this mess somehow.

His future, his reputation, depended on it.