“Done, next?” A glance at Blade’s face shows he’s grinning widely, not paying attention to Rodriguez’s cries.
“Next you take a good hold on the hair, and pull.” I tighten my grip as I’m talking, wondering whether I’ve got the guts to dothis, then remember Mariana, and my promise to her and her brother. That I’d get her back, and keep Drew safe.
“Don’t do it! Please God, stop. I’ll tell you.” It’s Rodriguez who screams out, which doesn’t surprise me.
“All the details. Location. Manpower. Access.” Drummer snaps the words out as he steps up beside me, meeting my eyes and sheepishly grinning as he brandishes paper and pen.
“At least record this shit,” I suggest, showing my disdain for the old-fashioned approach.
Wraith holds up his phone. “On it, Brother.”
After a while Castro joins in, driven to correct some of Rodriguez’s assumptions. To my amusement they almost have an argument about the best access routes. Seems now they’ve started they can’t tell us enough. At last their voices fade. They’ve given us everything. Even down to the fact they knew Drew wasEl Procurador’s son, and how important he was to him.
Blade looks at me. “Gonna let me have some fun now?”
“Hold on a moment, Blade. I’ve got one more thing to ask.” Drummer stands with his arms folded, his pen and paper put down. “The Herreras. You got links to them?”
Castro and Rodriguez glance at each other, then must realise their only chance is not holding back. “El Procuradorpulled in some favours. Herreras let us use their route to get us over the border.”
“And what favour didEl Procuradorpromise them?”
“Something to do with a motorcycle club.”
Drummer questions them again, but they don’t know any more. They’re grunts. They probably wouldn’t have been privy to much more than that. I exchange a quick look with Drummer. Maybe Paladin was right to be worried. Can’t take the chance.
Then Blade brings my attention back to what we’re here for, when he whines, “Now, please, Chief?”
I harden my heart, blacken my soul, and tell him, “Yes.”
The scalp has been loosened, with the hair held firmly and yanked hard, the circle of flesh is torn from the skull. In truth, both Blade and I have only gone for a circle of about five inches in diameter, but enough to scar them for life.
I hold my trophy in front of Castro, tears of pain are streaming down his cheeks. Blade does the same to Rodriguez who throws up, my brother having jumped back to avoid the vomit.
“What do you want to do with them, Chief? If we let them go, they’ll talk.”
They’re would-be kidnappers. Paid to take a teenager out of his country and deliver him to a man known for his cruelty. If I let them go, word will reach Mariana’s father. He might even take out his rage on her. Certainly send others to take Drew. Killing them would give us more time.
As if he knows my decision has been made, Drummer places his hand on my shoulder. Blade glances over and raises his chin, I interpret this time he means for me to follow his lead. I’m just a few seconds behind and cutting Castro’s throat as the blood spatter from Rodriguez mingles with the paint on my body.
“I’ll get the prospects to clean up.”
“I’ll supervise,” Peg suggests.
“Chief. Suggest you go get showered.” Blade’s chuckling as the blood trickles down my bare chest. I glare, noticing there’s not a spot on him.
The metallic smell of the blood, the air tinged with acrid fumes from the urine and vomit, turns my stomach. I need to get out of here. Not the first man I’ve killed, but the first I’ve tortured. Now it’s done, I know I’ll have to find a way to live with myself.Didn’t know I had it in me. Did what I had to, tosave Mariana.My brothers seem to know I need space as once again they part to allow me to get out. In the fresh air, I lean over, my hands on my knees, taking deep breaths. It doesn’t help.
Moving out of sight behind the storage room, I let the bile and vomit spew from my mouth, vaguely aware of another man joining me doing the same.
When at last my gut is empty, I stand, wiping my mouth. Blade’s alongside me, a handkerchief in his hand dabbing at his lips. He catches my eye. One corner of his mouth turns up, and he shakes his head. “That was some sick shit in there, Brother. Remind me never to upset you. Fuck knows what other things you’ve got up your sleeve.”
That it gets to him too, for some reason makes me feel better. I straighten, look up at the cloudless sky, and feel my lips curving. Preparing to leave, I slap him on the back. “Pray you never find out, Brother.”
I start to turn away when he stops me. “Just one question, Chief. What are you going to do with your trophies?”
When I cock my eye at him, his face almost splits in half. “The scalps. You going to dry and frame them or something? Isn’t that what you Indians do?”
I shove him in the chest, but that doesn’t stop his laughing. I push him again. Each time he rocks back on his heels, still chuckling. It’s not long before I’m joining in.
