by Matt Rogers
King trained the barrel of the Zamorana on the closed door, well-rested and alert. If Tevin or his men or any of the thugs in the pavilion decided to bull rush their room, King would make sure he killed as many of them as possible with the fourteen rounds left in the magazine.
Because that’s what you do best, a voice in the back of his head whispered. That’s all you’re good at.
That’s all you’ll ever be.
CHAPTER 19
Almost exactly four hours later — according to the rough estimate of a clock in his head — King heard Percy jolt awake in a cold sweat. Perspiration dotted the man’s brow. He wiped his forehead with a filthy buttoned shirt and gazed around the empty room.
‘Fuck,’ he whispered. ‘Had a nightmare.’
‘Think you’ll survive?’ King said.
The corners of Percy’s mouth upturned slightly. He gave King a resigned look. ‘Still felt worse waking up to reality.’
‘Well, you’ll be pleased to hear that nothing happ—’
The door swung open, flooding the room with light from the hallway. Wide-eyed, King whipped the Zamorana into position, barrel fixed on the door. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the brightness. Two figures loomed in the doorway. If he saw they had any kind of hostile intentions, he would empty the contents of the pistol in their direction.
But they weren’t armed.
They even had their hands raised in the air, signifying their lack of weapons.
It was the twins from the pavilion.
Raul and Luis.
King recognised them, but he did not yet trust them. ‘What do you want?’
‘To talk to you,’ Raul said.
‘So talk.’
‘We would both appreciate it if you lowered the weapon.’
‘Close the door behind you,’ King said.
The pair moved further into the room and shut the door, sending the room back into half-light, illuminated dimly by the weak bulb fixed into the ceiling. Raul and Luis sat on the empty lower bunk and rested their elbows on their knees. They both gave Percy a quick nod. He stared back, unsure of what to do. He’d never seen the twins before. King came to the conclusion that neither man was a threat and decided to lower the Zamorana.
‘We hear you’re in a bit of a predicament,’ Raul said.
‘I am,’ King said. ‘Tevin wants me dead.’
‘Why don’t you kill him?’
‘I’m getting close to doing just that.’
‘Then what?’
‘Huh?’
‘What will you do after you kill him?’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.’
‘A lot of men in here depend on Tevin. He brings them good food, he brings them guns, he gives them whatever drugs they’re after. I don’t think it’s a wise idea to kill him by yourself.’
‘So what are you suggesting I do?’
‘I’m not suggesting anything,’ Raul said. ‘But we are both willing to help you with whatever you decide on.’
‘You are?’
‘We’ve never been huge fans of what Tevin’s doing here. He’s started charging a protection fee to most of the pavilion. He gets us to ask the guards to retrieve money from our families or friends, and then we pay him to leave us alone. It’s getting too much. Most of us don’t like him. We just put up with him because he has the final say on everything around here.’
‘But he still has a lot of friends?’
Raul nodded. ‘Many will still stick up for him if we attack. But if we find enough who dislike him, we might get enough men on our side to lead to a stand-off.’
‘Then what?’
‘There’ll either be an all out war, or nothing. My guess is it will grow too large to justify conflict. If we get enough people involved, a battle will end up killing most of the men in here. I don’t think anyone wants that.’
‘Why are you getting involved at all?’ King said. ‘It’s probably safer to just keep to yourself.’
‘I respect you,’ Raul said. ‘I respect what you’re doing here. You’re not just rolling over for Tevin like everyone else does. I think others may feel the same; they’re just not vocalising it. It’s been a while since Tevin’s made an enemy with competence. And I wouldn’t mind seeing this place shaken up. It’s a madhouse as it is right now.’
‘Is this the only pavilion in El Infierno?’
Raul laughed and shook his head. ‘I think there’s six. Four for men, two for women. Plus private cells for privileged inmates.’
‘Why isn’t Tevin in a private cell?’
‘He’s on top in here, but out there he’s nobody. He’s been in here long enough to wiggle his way into an authoritative position, but that doesn’t mean anything to the outside world. It’s the businessmen and those with family money that get special privileges — because they can afford it. Tevin makes a bit through profits off his drug and gun running … but in the grand scheme of things it’s very little.’
‘Then I say we finish him off,’ King said. ‘It’s doing no-one any good to wait around like this for someone to jump us. I’ll go in there now and shoot him and his two bodyguards dead.’
‘You do that now,’ Raul said, ‘and you’ll be dead yourself within minutes. He has too many of them on the payroll. You’re a good fighter but you can’t take on the entire pavilion at once.’
King nodded. ‘So we get more men. I have cash on me which I haven’t shown to anyone yet. I can pay for help.’
‘How much do you have?’
‘Almost fifty thousand bolivares.’
Raul let out a low whistle. ‘Any of them catch wind that you have that kind of money on you and they’ll swarm you like vultures. Keep that to yourself.’
He turned to his brother and spoke in a hushed tone. King’s Spanish was not good enough to translate efficiently. He let the two converse for a minute, then Luis got to his feet and made for the door. On the way out, he nodded at King, a seemingly friendly gesture. Then he left the room, moving fast.
‘He likes you,’ Raul noted.
‘He said that?’ King said.
‘Many times. He’s still in awe, I think. The way you fought back against the guard, the way you fight back against everyone.’
‘Just who I am.’
‘I like it too.’
‘How did you two end up in here anyway?’
Raul sighed and bowed his head, recalling traumatic memories. ‘We both were sent here a year ago. I still can’t believe it all happened.’
‘What happened?’
‘We both worked for the Agente De Mudanzas for a few months. In English, that means Movers.’
‘I know,’ King said. ‘I learnt some rudimentary Spanish. Many years ago.’
‘During your career?’
‘Yes.’
‘A man of many cultures,’ Raul said with a slight smile. ‘Anyhow, they’re drug runners. Started as a low-level street gang and built themselves into what they are now. They’re the largest importers of narcotics into the state of Vargas. Everyone knows where they do business but they’ve paid so many officials off that no-one bothers them.’
‘They control the authorities?’
‘They do.’
‘And you worked for them?’
‘I did.’
King hesitated. ‘Then what are you doing in here?’
‘They threw both of us to the wolves. We were dealing recklessly, thinking we were invincible because of who we worked for, and we got caught. We had close to a kilo between us. I never heard from any of the Movers again. They just let us get arrested and charged. Abandoned us as soon as we found ourselves on the wrong end of the law.’
‘Is that what they usually do?’
‘Exactly the opposite. From what I’ve seen, they protect their own. But our boss started getting more and more ruthless as time went on. He doesn’t have time for incompetence. I’d say he saw us as two idiots and let El Infierno swallow us up.’
&n
bsp; ‘Who is he?’
‘He’s the reason they run half the state now. They were nothing before the mudslide tragedy many years ago. It crippled more than half the state. He capitalised by snatching up an entire shipyard for almost nothing. Now he pays off police, he buys politicians. All to be left alone and increase the cocaine coming in through the port from neighbouring Colombia.’
‘What’s his name?’
‘Rico.’
King’s stomach dropped.
Of course it fucking is.
Pieces began to fall into place. He slowly put together a number of different theories as to why he ended up in El Infierno, and why a drug gang’s leader was watching over him under the guise of a prison official.
He turned to Percy, who until this point in the conversation had remained completely silent, watching from his bunk.
‘Percy,’ he said. ‘You bought cocaine, correct?’
Percy nodded.
‘Where from?’
‘Somewhere in Maiquetía. I can’t remember exactly what the street was called, but it was near the beaches.’
‘I was staying near there,’ King noted. ‘Raul, did you operate in that area?’
‘If you bought cocaine in Maiquetía, it would have come from the Movers. They’re the only players in that district. Trust me. Me and my brother used to make most of our money from cashed-up tourists.’
‘Used to?’
‘Well, up until the Movers forgot all about us.’
‘Ah,’ King said. ‘And are they professionals?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Do they make mistakes? Do they mix up orders?’
‘Never. That’s the last thing they would do. The entire philosophy behind Rico’s operation is to be as consistent and efficient as possible.’
‘Percy, tell him,’ King said.
The British tourist explained what had transpired, from the moment he decided to purchase drugs all the way up until he was thrown in El Infierno. Once again, he stressed the once-off nature of his urges and continued to highlight that he would never dabble in such illegal activities again. Much like King, Raul didn’t give a shit. He seemed more concerned with the details of the deal itself.
‘Perhaps I was wrong,’ Raul said after Percy finished.
‘What do you mean?’ King said.
‘That definitely doesn’t sound like the Movers.’
‘Which part?’
‘Showing up with a quarter of what was agreed upon.’
‘Maybe they slacked off in the time you’ve been here.’
‘I guess … if Rico moved on. But I doubt either of those things have happened. Rico was a wild man in the time I knew him. He lived and breathed his operation.’
King recalled the crazed sneer on Rico and the aggravation behind his eyes when he thought he was being lied to. ‘I don’t think he’s moved on either.’
‘What makes you so sure?’ Raul said.
‘Just a couple of things I’ve seen.’ King paused, thinking hard. ‘So say the Movers are still operating in Maiquetía. Why would they stuff up a deal like that? Maybe they thought they could extort some dumb foreigner?’
Percy frowned.
Raul shook his head. ‘No chance. That was the one thing they prided themselves on. Professionalism. Always being accurate. They would not be so foolish to start ripping off their customers. Rico would never do such a thing. It’s how he grew the Movers into what they are today.’
‘So something’s off in their operation?’
‘Must be,’ Raul said. ‘Why are you so curious about all this?’
‘I think I may have inadvertently been the cause of all this behind-the-scenes turmoil.’
‘How so?’
‘I’m still trying to work that out.’
Suddenly the room lit up as the door swung open rapidly. It caught King by surprise. He’d been deep in thought, distracted by recent revelations. He’d let his focus falter. As such it took him a fraction of a second too long to bring the Zamorana round and aim it at the door. He knew he could very likely die in the time it took to do so, and his heart froze in his chest.
But that didn’t happen, because Luis stepped into the room, followed swiftly by two Spanish men. Both were short and stocky. They waddled with the gait of men who had packed on a little too much weight in the belly area. One had long thin hair and the other was bald.
Luis noted the barrel pointed at his temple and smiled wryly. He said something in Spanish.
‘He says you’re very trigger happy,’ Raul said. ‘Always ready to go.’
‘Gotta be,’ King said. ‘Too many people want me dead. I was slow that time.’
‘What world do you live in where that kind of reaction was slow?’
‘The world where I stay alive.’
Luis introduced the pair as Daniel and Mateo, friends who had been locked up in El Infierno for several years. They had suffered abuse from Tevin and his men for years, for reasons they could not work out. He seemed to hold a hatred towards the pair ever since they’d stepped foot inside the pavilion. As such they’d been treated like dirt for the majority of their time in prison. They were more than willing to lend their services to King in the event of conflict.
Raul translated all this, listening fast and speaking fast. King took it all in, resting the Zamorana on his knee as he thought. He stood up and shook each of the men’s hands. The language barrier prevented any sort of meaningful conversation, but he noted the look in their eyes and knew they would help. There was pent-up rage and frustration in both of them. King knew exactly what that felt like.
He knew they could be trusted.
‘So we have six,’ he said, turning to Percy and Raul, the only two English-speakers in the room. ‘This could get ugly.’
‘It will get ugly,’ Raul said.
‘Did Luis tell you anything?’
‘A lot of people out there know what’s happening. They know tension is brewing. He said he hasn’t seen the pavilion like this in years. Everyone’s quiet, everyone’s scheming. I don’t know, King … this could go very badly for us.’
‘It could go very badly for a lot of people.’
‘What time is it? It’s tough to keep track in here.’
‘Middle of the night still.’
‘And everyone’s awake?’
‘I think they can sense something large is coming. Apparently a few weapons have crept back into the pavilion already. Guards selling them on the down-low.’
King shook the Zamorana in his hand. ‘I have one, at least.’
‘Won’t do you much good if everyone’s after you.’
‘Let’s worry about that when it happens.’
King studied the members of the room. There was enough men on his side to provide a slight level of reassurance, but nothing more than that. All it meant was that they would not be extraordinarily outnumbered in the event of an attack. Nevertheless, his heart rate began to ease.
He wasn’t alone.
‘We can take shifts now,’ he said. ‘Two men watch the door, four sleep. Everyone good with that?’
A collection of nods came back. Daniel and Mateo spoke to Raul in Spanish. He listened and nodded. Then faced King.
‘They offer to take first shift,’ he said. ‘As a thank you for standing up to Tevin.’
King smiled. ‘I don’t have much of a choice.’
‘They’re grateful anyway.’
He nodded and rolled over in the bunk. Sleep had been sporadic and restless over the last few days, given everything that had transpired. He’d managed a few restless hours before, but it hadn’t been enough. Constant tension and unease made one exhausted.
‘How the fuck can you sleep right now, mate?’ Percy said. ‘I’m shitting my pants.’
‘We’ve been over this, Percy,’ King said, still facing the wall. ‘I’ve been in worse situations.’
‘You’re a nutter.’
‘At least being a nutter makes me calm.�
��
He drifted off, slipping away from the throbbing and aching and burning all over his body as it healed from the dozens of baton swings. He ignored the cramped, humid conditions and the unease which had plagued his every thought since he’d first been arrested. It all went away.
But not for long.
CHAPTER 20
Panicked shouting tore him from unconsciousness.
His eyes flicked open and he came to in an instant. He blinked hard twice, until his blurry surroundings came into focus. Bodies, all around him. Frantic movement. Yelling. Surprise and tension and unrest.
He leapt to his feet, still processing what he was seeing. A cluster of men had stormed into the room, slamming the door open, taking the two sentries by surprise just long enough to capitalise. Now the room was over-populated, bodies against bodies. An air of confusion permeated the place.
King looked at the intruders. They weren’t Tevin’s men.
Three of them were Guardia Nacional.
The other was Rico.
All four brandished Kalashnikov AK-103 assault rifles, big, bulky guns, all reliable, all pointed in their direction.
‘Hey, boys,’ Rico said, a devilish smile spread across his face.
Raul made a guttural noise full of rage. King saw him lock eyes with his old employer. Rico’s smile did not falter. He kept the leer spread across his face, languishing in the twins’ anger. ‘Didn’t think I’d see you two again. Enjoying the stay?’
Luis spat at him. The glob of saliva landed on Rico’s combat boot. He looked down at it, then shrugged. ‘I’d normally kill the both of you for that. But I probably deserve it. Anyway, enjoy the rest of your short lives. I have other matters to tend to.’
King took his finger off the trigger of the Zamorana. It would do no good to end Rico here, because he would just take three magazines full of ammunition in return. The remaining Guardia Nacional soldiers would tear him to shreds. He couldn’t kill four men before they retaliated. Besides, where would that leave him? Stuck in a pavilion, no closer to freedom, with four dead officials on his hand.
Well, three dead officials. And one drug lord.
‘What are you doing?’ King said.
