Richard Blackwood walks through the shattered door as if he's arriving at a business meeting with his expensive suit unmarred, hair perfectly styled, and carrying a leather briefcase.
Behind him, there were six more mercenaries with weapons trained on us.
"Anthony. Katherine." His smile is warm and friendly. The same smile he used to greet Katherine at Premier Financial every morning, I believe. "So good to see you both. Though these circumstances are rather... dramatic."
I keep Katherine behind me, my weapon raised, even knowing we're outgunned, outnumbered, and outmaneuvered.
"Richard." Katherine's voice is steadier than I expected. "Or should I say Ricardo?"
"Richard is fine. I've been Richard Blackwood longer than I was Ricardo Ramírez." He sets his briefcase on the overturned table and opens it casually. "That boy died thirty years ago when Thomas Marvin murdered his family."
