by Jonas Saul
Amber clapped and hopped on the spot.
She was beginning to like having Amber around.
Chapter 29
A loud clanging jerked Aaron awake. The doors to his hell hole ripped open and the morning sun filtered in, basking the center of the straw-covered floor in an early morning orange. The drowsiness of sleep passed in seconds when Aaron realized where he was.
Thirst was the first ache of the morning. It dismayed him that he had to pee. He didn’t want to release any more liquids than necessary.
The guy in the center of the floor hadn’t moved all night. He still lay on the floor, face down, breathing raggedly, but now with the doors open and the sun streaming in, it looked like he had a celestial spotlight pointing right at him. Aaron remained in shadows near the back wall.
The same men who took him from the room yesterday stepped inside. Thoughts of being tied to the table poured in. Too much water. Gagging, unable to breathe.
His throat tightened and he focused on breathing regularly. He would be more careful asking for water in the future. And that sandwich last night hadn’t been enough. His stomach was empty and growling.
The men moved inside the room slowly and stopped over the prisoner sprawled out on the floor.
“Lift him up,” the leader said.
As if he weighed ten pounds, the men grabbed the prisoner’s arms, twisted him into a sitting position, then dragged him to his feet, his head lolling as far as his neck would allow.
The leader lurched forward with something in his hand and placed it in the prisoner’s face. Seconds later the prisoner gasped and jolted his head back, his breathing worse now that he was awake.
“What?” the prisoner mumbled. The one nasal word sounded like he spoke through his broken nose. “I’ve told everything I know. I didn’t do it.”
The leader offered a lopsided smile and tilted his head. “I don’t believe you.”
Aaron’s strength was severely limited, but his mind played out a scene. He would get to his feet, snap the first guy’s knee from behind, spin and break the leg of the other guy and then lunge for the leader. In his best physical state, he was sure his odds were high. Currently, his odds were less than ten percent. He probably wouldn’t even be done with the first guy before the leader shot him. And how could he be sure he had the strength to break anything?
“I swear!” the prisoner pleaded.
The leader pulled out a knife, at least eighteen inches long, from a brown sheath hanging off his belt. He twisted it back and forth in the air so his prisoner could see the sun glint off its deadly steel.
Aaron moved to get his feet under him. He couldn’t sit idly by and watch a man get stabbed.
It caught the leader’s eyes. “You want some of this, too?” he asked Aaron. “I’ll cut deep.” He jabbed the knife in the air, one, two, three times. “I’ll cut you deep if you get up.”
His attention drew back to the other prisoner who was sniveling now, saliva dangling from his mouth.
“Please. I’ve told you everything.”
“You’ve told me nothing and you disrespect me.”
The knife was fast. In and out. Then in and out again. Aaron was sure he was only taunting the prisoner as the blade didn’t enter the man’s body and no blood painted the blade. But the man groaned as if he’d been cut.
Then the blade came again and each time the man jerked and spasmed as if he was being stabbed.
“You like the show?” the leader asked. “Turn Hector around. Show Aaron what his fate will be.”
The men holding Hector twisted the man, now crying and moaning loudly, so Aaron could see better. The sun filled the room with enough light that Aaron saw the slashes. The man’s cheek had cuts, his neck was bleeding and three cuts crisscrossed Hector’s upper chest. The blade wasn’t going in far, just enough to open the skin.
Death by a thousand cuts.
“Turn him back around.”
When Hector was facing forward again, the knife flashed half a dozen times.
“Stop!” Aaron yelled.
The knife stopped.
“What is this?” the leader asked.
The men released Hector. He fell in a bloody clump and instantly started crawling for the open door.
“What is this?” the leader asked again. He stepped forward. “This is the end of your life, Mr. Stevens. This is the end of Sarah Roberts’ life. This is the end of everything you know. And this,” he pointed at Hector, “is a demonstration to show you what happens when an employee, someone who has been faithful to the family for ten years, decides to steal. If we do this to a thief, think about what we will do to someone who hurts our business to the tune of millions of dollars like your Sarah did. For theft, only Hector pays.” The leader turned his attention back to Hector. “But business interruption and loss of income, Sarah’s entire family pays.” He met Aaron’s gaze. “But Sarah will pay the most. When she gets here, she will know what Hell is whether she’s religious or not.”
The leader turned away, dropped to one knee and jabbed the knife in and out of Hector’s back as he crawled. Aaron covered his face. He felt shame at not helping. Disgust and fear mixed in his stomach. He wanted to kill them all, but didn’t have the strength to cross the room.
How could he warn Parkman and Sarah’s parents? Who were these people? How did Sarah upset Mexicans?
A hand dropped on his head, startling him out of his thoughts. A clump of his hair was pulled and his head twisted to watch what the leader was doing to Hector as Hector’s screams reverberated against the walls of the room.
The knife had made a bloody mess of Hector’s back, his shirt in tatters. The leader flipped Hector over and lifted his hand. One of the men came and held Hector’s arm.
The leader glanced at Aaron. Hatred fueled a light behind the leader’s eyes as he began to cut. Blood squirted forth, some landing on the leader’s right cheek. Hector screamed until he passed out.
Aaron tried to look away, but the hold on his hair was too tight, so he closed his eyes. The second his lids dropped, a fist smashed into the side of his face.
“Eyes open,” the man who held him shouted.
The side of his face numbing, Aaron watched as the leader removed Hector’s fingers one by one.
“The Bible says to cut out the tongue if it’s used in sin,” Hector said. “Cut off the hand of a thief. Cut out the eye of one who covets thy neighbor’s wife.” He shrugged as if this were a game and he had made a bad move on the board. “Oops. I cut off his fingers.” Hector remained unconscious at the leader’s feet. “I was supposed to cut off the hand of the thief.”
The leader started in on the hand. Aaron closed his eyes and received another blow to the side of the face. Maybe he should keep his eyes closed. Then perhaps one of the blows to the face would mercifully knock him out. The image of smelling salts came to mind. They’d just wake him back up like they did to Hector.
He opened his eyes as the leader tossed the hand aside.
“Now his eyes,” the leader said.
If they didn’t stop soon and dress the wounds, Hector would bleed out and die. Even though he didn’t want to admit it to himself, Aaron knew the leader wasn’t going to stop.
One of the leader’s men moved in place to hold Hector’s head with both arms. The leader leaned in close with the knife, glanced at Aaron to make sure he was watching, then flicked the tip of the knife inside Hector’s right eye, twisted it as Hector’s body went into a seizure, and pulled outward. The eye popped out and dangled from his cheek, mixed with blood and a jelly-like substance. Lastly, the leader opened Hector’s mouth, yanked his tongue out and with one swipe of the knife, severed the tip off.
“There, all done.” He got to his feet. The helper released Hector. “He got off easy,” the leader said, pointing at Hector with the bloody knife. The hand holding Aaron’s hair let go and the man walked across the room to stand by the leader’s side. “You won’t be so lucky. But there is a way to
avoid a messy death.”
In his shock, Aaron remained silent.
“I thought you’d never ask,” the leader said. “Here’s how. Tell me where Sarah Roberts is. When we bring her here, you get a bullet. Die in seconds. Much better investment than what we have planned for you. So, what do you say? Tell us where she is.”
The leader handed the knife to the man on the right who began cleaning it with a cloth he’d brought with him.
“Sarah,” Aaron said. “Is on her way here.”
The leader began clapping.
“You don’t need to go after her,” Aaron said. “She will come to you.”
The leader stopped clapping and lowered his hands. “Do you joke here?”
“No. By now they know I’m missing. Your man threatened me in front of several witnesses at the dojo. They will soon learn I’m in Mexico and fly down here. In time, you will see Sarah Roberts, but it won’t be on the terms you would hope for.”
“How’s that?” the leader asked.
“She will be angry. That doesn’t make for a good house guest. Then she will kill all of you. I will ask that she leaves you for me.”
“Very kind of you,” the leader said. “And ballsy.”
He grabbed the clean knife back from his assistant, stepped forward, flipped Hector over and jammed the blade into Hector’s stomach. Slicing sideways in an arc, he opened the stomach up and pulled back on the flap of skin he’d made.
Aaron didn’t want to throw up, but he couldn’t watch the horror in front of him any longer. Yet his eyes were glued to the leader.
Hector’s intestines were being pulled out and tossed aside like ugly, dirty sausages as the leader laughed a maniacal tune.
Hector was clearly dead now. The leader stood back up, handed the knife off and moved toward the door. The other man immediately began cleaning the knife again.
“You will die here, Aaron Stevens. As will Sarah. We have an army of soldiers defending our family. We’re stronger than the Mafia. We’re stronger than the president. He’s afraid to even come down to this part of Mexico. We kill the police in the dozens just to send a message. We hang men and women, civilians, from highway bridges to send a message. How delusional are you that you think one little girl will hurt us? You see Hector. That’s you in a week, maybe two. Enjoy your stay here. I’ll be back this afternoon to ask you where Sarah is. You had better have an answer.”
The two men followed the leader outside, closed and locked the door.
They left Hector’s body on the floor of the prison cell.
The flies were already gathering as Aaron vomited what little he had in his stomach.
Then he wept.
Chapter 30
“Tell me again how this is going to work,” Sarah said.
Amber reclined on the couch with Melissa, one of the other girls who worked dayshift in the front window. Two other girls, Gabi and Porsche, leaned against the wall. Madam listened from behind her desk.
Porsche had brewed a pot of tea. They all sipped chamomile and ate ginger snaps while Amber went over their plan for the third time.
Tall, thin Melissa was a regular with a few Dutch police officers on their days off. According to Melissa, one of two cops would come today to be her customer.
“During Melissa’s shift,” Amber said. “If she’s visited by one of her cop regulars, she’ll notify Madam and the rest of us will take up our positions.”
“Which are?”
“Gabi will lock the door and flip the closed sign. Porsche will draw the curtains. Melissa will lead her cop to the dungeon. By this time, Madam will have notified you and me.” Amber smiled. Sarah worried Amber was having too much fun. “Melissa will strip down and make sure her cop is naked. When all other customers have been escorted out, you smash through the dungeon door with your gun out and kidnap yourself a cop. Melissa will act the part,” Amber winked at Melissa who winked back, “of a scared little girl, gather her meager clothes, and run past you.”
“Then I will announce that I have locked down the building and I’m holding him hostage.”
“Exactly,” Amber said and slapped her hands together so hard, Porsche jumped.
“Sorry,” Amber whispered.
Porsche brushed it off.
“So now we wait,” Sarah said.
“And get back to work,” Madam added.
Gabi, Porsche and Melissa took their tea and a few cookies out of the office, leaving Amber and Sarah to stare at Madam.
“You’re sure about this?” Sarah asked. “You don’t mind staging a kidnapping here?”
Madam shrugged one shoulder. “We’re innocent. You took over the whole place. I should be asking if you’re sure.”
“Never more sure about it. This has to be done. I need to do something that’ll make Dekker listen. I need to force his hand.”
Madam nodded. “Then my place is yours to use. With Sven gone, things will be a lot smoother around here. You’re to thank for that. This is me showing my appreciation.”
“Well, I’m not sure it was all my doing—” Amber kicked her and gave her a be quiet face.
Madam held up the paper the police had left behind with Sarah’s face on it.
“Looks like it to me. They want you for his murder.” Madam shrugged again. “Doesn’t matter. He was a horrible man. My girls will be happier.”
Use the phone … Vivian whispered.
Without thinking, Sarah muttered, “Um, I need to make a call again.”
Madam got up from her seat and headed for the door. “Go ahead. We have all day to wait for a cop visit. Be my guest.” She opened the door and stopped. “Amber, block the number first.”
“Of course,” Amber said as the door closed behind Madam. “Who do you need to call? Someone in America?”
“I don’t know.”
Amber frowned. “Oh …” She slurped loudly from her tea cup. “How’s that? How do you not know who you want to call?”
“It’s a long story.” Sarah got up, pulled the curtain back and peeked out the window. “One that involves my sister.”
Amber didn’t respond or ask for more. After a moment, Sarah heard Amber bite into a cookie.
“Why are you guys helping me?” Sarah asked. She turned back to look at Amber. “Don’t misunderstand me. I’m grateful, but there’s a lot of risk involved.”
Amber wiped a crumb from her lip. “No risk, really. You’re doing all the crazy work.”
Sarah let the curtain fall back in place. “You can’t deny kidnapping a member of the Dutch Police Force won’t come with risk.”
“Normally I wouldn’t deny that. But what you’re doing, how you’ve set it up, we’re just collateral. Is that how you say it in English?”
Sarah nodded. “But why? You could’ve told me to take my issues elsewhere.”
“Come, sit down.”
Sarah headed back to her chair.
“You didn’t know Sven. I was his girlfriend for ten years. Although I wouldn’t use the word girlfriend. Victim is a better word. With Sven gone and people thinking you killed him, half of the red light district in Amsterdam would host you.”
“But there’s something else here,” Sarah said, feeling it in her gut.
Amber averted her eyes. After a moment of staring into her tea, she looked back up at Sarah.
“I didn’t want to tell you, but … Madam is my mother’s sister. My aunt.”
“What? Really?”
Amber leaned back on the couch and rested her arms along the top. “My aunt swore I would never end up in this business. When I met Sven, I didn’t know where that relationship was headed. Within a year I was a regular call girl. Since I was already in, Madam told Sven that I had to work here so she could keep an eye on me. It was that or she would report Sven to the authorities. He beat her up for that threat—a couple of times—but after a year or so, he agreed to let me work here. In this business, he owned me like you might own a dog.” She blew air through her lips.
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Amber was holding something back, but Sarah couldn’t put her finger on it. There was a depth in Amber’s eyes. A haunting, a knowing. Like a deep family secret. Or maybe it was just Sven and his evil ways. But why? Now that Sven was dead, they could all move on. Why join Sarah now? Why go deeper into the fray? Something wasn’t adding up.
