{FRANCESCO}
"Blue balls it is, then," I muttered to Julio as we passed the corridor of the prison in the northern part of the estate.
We rarely used prison cells; those we chose to eliminate were hardly ever valuable enough to be kept alive. Marcello Blandini was an exception–or was supposed to be an exception. Perhaps I shouldn't be pissed that he was dead–he would be dead anyway. But I hadn't given this cunt permission to fucking die before I found out what I fucking needed.
Julio dropped his head, levelling his eyes with the scanner. Then he typed the code on the panel and there was a low beep before the doors slid open. We walked inside, hurriedly passing several cells before stopping at the last cell–Marcello Blandini's cell.
