"You're an absolutely shitty shot, Zeitlin. You're so wild that any armed force in the world would show you the door. Lichtenstein would say you weren't good enough, sorry, and they're almost as small as the Deck." Ollie was saying in that same supercilious tone that for a moment made Carlos look at him like he'd lost his mind - until he realized the Diamond was trying to draw Patrick's attention to him and give Carlos the chance as Patrick drew closer.

Carlos or someone else. He heard the doors open, and he was almost as familiar with that footfall as his own. He didn't need to look, even if he could afford to give Patrick that kind of warning. Instead he slipped one of his throwing knives from the sheath at his back and hid it in his palm, retreating into that brooding silence that Gael had teased him about the night they'd finally spoken. Just a few steps more, he thought, before he let the knife fly with deadly accuracy.

Though he wasn't aiming for a kill strike, and if someone asked him why, he'd say that for what he'd done today - Patrick Zeitlin deserved to feel pain. He deserved a slow death at the hands of someone who he'd underestimated. "A shame about the lack of self-control there," he commented as his knife pierced Patrick's side. "You could be listening to Gael begging you not to kill his best friend now. Instead..." Well, Patrick was outnumbered.

Not that he'd consider himself to be. Patrick Zeitlin, had, he recalled, always been extremely sure of himself.