A Malevolent Manner (Patrick Pierce #1)

by William Scott

  *

  “Everything seems in order gentlemen,” observed the checkpoint officer standing beside the driver’s door. He spoke slowly in Spanish, obviously bored with his current duties “But what of these bullet holes?”

  Everyone in the car tried to remain clam and not show any anxiety. Their pistols were all within easy reach; however they were hoping they wouldn’t be necessary. Unlike the last two checkpoints.

  This was the third checkpoint they had come across since leaving the barn they’d slept in after their escape from Merida. Pierce didn’t know if their shootout escape from Merida had been the reason for the checkpoints, or if it was a coincidence. Either way they had been forced to shoot their way through the first one even before being asked for their papers. They had escaped the second checkpoint through the grace of a pair of well thrown grenades after the guards had returned their documents and became suspicious. Would their third try be lucky?

  “Red Bastards!” spat Liam from the back of the car, continuing to act as the group’s interpreter. “They ambushed the last checkpoint we passed. I think your comrades held them off, but you might want to send a patrol to check it out. We were lucky to get out of there alive.”

  The checkpoint officer cursed and quickly handed their papers back, clearly eager to do anything other than checkpoint duty. As MacDuff drove away they could see a flurry of activity as the men manning the checkpoint prepared to depart.

  “You’re a clever bastard Liam, I’ll give you that!” laughed MacDuff as they sped down the road, quickly approaching the outskirts of Seville.

  “Let’s dump this car as soon as we can Duffy,” ordered Pierce sitting shotgun. “It’s served its purpose and it will only continue to bring unwanted attention to us.”

  MacDuff nodded and another fifteen minutes of driving took them to a quiet side road. Within seconds they had removed their gear and began walking down the road, just another group of journalists touring the city.

  “So what do we do now?” asked Sean as they walked towards the center of town. The late afternoon sun reflected off the white and beige stone buildings, heating the streets like an oven. The intermittent groupings of palm trees lining the roads offered minimal respite from the heat.

  “I say we steal another car,” offered Liam taking a drink from his canteen.

  “I could use a real drink. Don’t you know a good cantina close to the villa?” Pierce asked MacDuff casually.

  “Indeed I do. It shouldn’t be more than a couple blocks from here.”

  After thirty minutes and two wrong turns all four men approached the cantina like it was an oasis. If they had more energy they might have run towards it. However decorum and the weight of their packs prevented such an outburst. The white stone walls glowed and provided the perfect backdrop to the colourful awning that provided shade to a group of metal chairs by the front door.

  “I’ll just go inside and order us some drinks and food,” offered MacDuff as he went inside while the remainder fell into the chairs under the awning, thoroughly exhausted.

  Within minutes an attractive young waitress came out with a pitcher of sangria and four glasses, winking at Liam after he uttered a few quick words in Spanish.

  “What did you say to her? My Spanish is a little rusty,” Sean asked as he poured the drinks for everyone.

  “I just asked for something to eat,” he replied innocently. “I guess my looks did the rest of the talking.”

  Sean coughed as he took a sip from his drink and rolled his eyes in disbelief.

  “He asked her for something as hot and spicy as her to eat,” said Pierce taking a sip of his own drink. “Or something close to that effect.”

  “And that worked?” Sean asked in disbelief. Before Liam could respond, the waitress emerged with a tray holding four bowls. She handed out each one carefully and returned inside with an order for another pitcher of sangria.

  Famished, they all started eating without waiting for MacDuff’s return from inside. After the first few spoonfuls, Liam began coughing and drank his full glass of sangria in one pull.

  “Looks like you got what you ordered,” laughed Pierce, seeing Liam’s red face and a few tears rolling down his cheek.

  “That’s not funny,” coughed Liam hoarsely, wiping his forehead with his napkin. He carefully emptied the rest of the pitcher into his glass and even took a bite of some fruit within it. “If I eat anymore of this soup my blood will start boiling.”

  The waitress came out again with the second pitcher of sangria and another bowl on her tray. She stood in front of Liam with the tray against her provocatively angled hips while he profusely offered apologies. Smiling she swapped his bowl for the one on the tray and grabbed the empty pitcher.

  “I guess she’s used to dealing with obnoxious tourists,” Pierce said between sips after she had left.

  “Very funny,” Liam countered as he eyed a new spoonful carefully before eating it. “It’s actually quite good now that I can taste something other than fire.”

  They all started laughing as MacDuff finally emerged from inside the cantina. Sitting down, he took a few large gulps of his sangria, draining it in a few seconds.

  “Listen to this Duffy,” began Sean chuckling. “Liam the ladies man here was trying to flirt with the waitress. Bring me something as hot and spicy as you to eat, he says. She winks at him and then comes back out with…”

  “Soup laced with the hottest peppers you’ve ever tasted?” finished MacDuff smiling before Sean could continue.

  “How’d you know that?” Liam asked in disbelief.

  “Because I told her to.”

  “Why’d you do something like that? I almost burnt my tongue off.”

  “Just be glad she took my advice. She came into the cantina cursing about foreigners. Believe me, if I hadn’t suggested the hot sauce you might have ended up with something more hazardous in your soup. A place like this always has rat poison on hand.”

  They all laughed and Liam quickly joined in, being too good a sport to be upset. They finished eating their meal in silence, realizing they hadn’t eaten real food in some time.

  “So what took you so long in there?” Liam asked MacDuff as he poured the rest of the second pitcher into their glasses. “Ordering food and conspiring with the staff couldn’t have taken that long.”

  “Patrick reminded me that we had set up a spy ring before we left Seville,” replied MacDuff easing back into his chair. “I’m waiting for news.”

  “A spy Ring?”

  “We paid a bunch of young boys to watch the villa during our absence and to make note of all the comings and goings,” explained Pierce quickly. “Two of them are brothers and their parents run this cantina.”

  “Young Paolo went to find his brother who’s got the watch right now,” MacDuff continued. “Before he left he told me that the only activity was a group of four leaving the villa the day the hunt began.”

  “That would probably be Sirinova’s Pack, they’re the only ones we didn’t see leave before Bufford appeared,” Pierce concluded.

  They didn’t have to wait long for the report on the villa. Within a few minutes Paolo’s brother came running down the street, stopping abruptly in front of MacDuff. In halting English he reported that no one had returned to the villa that day. He then shot a wide smile as MacDuff flipped him a gold coin.

  “How did we beat them back? I wonder if they had trouble with their new truck?” Pierce observed after Paolo’s brother ran into the cantina.

  “Or they don’t plan on returning through the portal yet,” Sean offered, voicing an option they all hoped wasn’t true.

  “No, it doesn’t make sense for them to remain here,” Pierce responded confidently. “They were probably delayed, maybe by some checkpoints or something. What do you think Duffy?”

  “You’re probably right,” MacDuff agreed nodding. “I also booked us two rooms upstairs when I was inside. We can sleep here tonight and come up with a new plan
if there’s still no word tomorrow.”

  “Sounds good to me,” clapped Liam after finishing the rest of his drink and staring at the empty pitcher. “I’ll get us another pitcher of this stuff. It’s not Jameson’s, but by god it’s refreshing.”

  “Better let MacDuff get it,” observed Pierce as he finished his own glass. “We don’t want it spiked with anti-freeze.”