Angel of Death - Debt Collector 5 (A Jack Winchester Thriller)

by Jon Mills

  As the light began to wane and darkness enveloped the camp for a second night, the door opened but instead of a woman bringing him a meal, Castillo stood there.

  Four of his men came rushing in and before he could react they began laying down a beating with bamboo sticks while two others kept their guns aimed at him. The beating didn’t last long, just enough for them to bind his wrists and ankles. They then withdrew behind Castillo.

  “I realize I’ve been going about this the wrong way. You aren’t going to tell me where she’s gone and I don’t negotiate. Then it dawned on me. Why did you return to the camp? I mean, you could have left with Jose and Danielle.”

  Jack lifted his eyes and met his. He spat blood on the ground in front of him.

  “You returned because you have empathy, don’t you? Or perhaps it’s guilt that you are looking to suppress by helping others. Which is it?”

  “Screw you.”

  “That’s it, isn’t it?”

  “You think you know me?”

  He nodded. “I do.”

  Jack chuckled. “You are just like all the others. A twisted, fucked-up individual who thinks he is beyond reproach.”

  Castillo stared back at him with a smug expression on his face.

  “Stand him up,” he said. Two men came over and hauled him to his feet. “Open the shutter.”

  One of his men went outside and unlocked the shutter. Once it was lifted he had a clear shot of where they had been the night before. Though instead of a cauldron at the center of the fire pit, a post was attached and bound to it was Jose. His head hung low.

  Jack flashed Castillo a look.

  “If you won’t give me the information, he will.”

  “You bastard.” Jack struggled to get at him but with his wrists and ankles bound all he could do was look on as Castillo exited the hut with two of his men. He snatched up a branch that was lit on one end. A light rain continued to fall. He briefly cast a look back at Jack who was being held by the other two.

  “Life and death, Jack. It’s all the same.”

  “Hey, asshole. You want to know. You want to know where she is, I’ll tell you.”

  “I know you will.”

  He continued making his way down to the water.

  “Castillo. Castillo!” Jack shouted but his words fell on deaf ears. He watched Castillo approach the fire pit. He leaned into Jose and muttered something in his ear. Jose looked towards Jack then back at Castillo. He said something but Jack couldn’t hear anything. All around Castillo the people began to encircle the fire pit. Some of the mothers placed their hands over the eyes of the children. Not all of them agreed with him. It was clear to see but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered now.

  “Castillo!”

  Castillo held up the flaming branch and then dropped it at the feet of Jose. The ground inside the stone pit was immediately engulfed in flames and the flames began creeping up his feet. He began to scream and shake violently on the post.

  “No!” Jack screamed and slammed his body backwards. Two things happened in that moment. As Jack plowed his body backwards he brought down the two men holding his arms to the floor with him. The wood that held the shutter shifted and the shutter came down blocking the view of the inside of the hut. On the ground, with his wrists and ankles tied, he used the only things he could use — his elbows and balled fists. His movements were fast, brutal and without mercy. He slammed one of them in the solar plexus with his elbow and drove balled hands up into the face of the other. Both rolled in agony, their cries masked by those of Jose. While the one man with a bloodied nose was trying to get a grip on the pain, Jack grabbed the handgun from his holster and instantly fired a round into the head of the one whose gut he’d elbowed. He followed that with another round in the other man. He knew he had only seconds. He snagged the large bowie knife the one dead man had on him and rolled on the floor towards the door and slammed his body against it to close it. Then within a matter of ten seconds he worked that knife against his feet to free them. Getting his wrists free was another thing entirely.

  By the time he had his feet loose, several men had come rushing up to the hut after hearing the gun go off twice. With his back to the door he picked up the handgun before shifting out of the way and firing multiple times through the door. His shots were met with gunfire as those armed outside riddled the hut with bullets. As wood spat all over the place he knew he had only seconds to get out. He picked up the knife and brought it over to one of the dead men while staying low as bullets continued to snap above his head. He jammed the knife deep into the skull of the dead man leaving just enough blade out for him to put his hands over. With the blade secure he rubbed up and down on the blade until the bind broke. All of this occurred in no more than twenty seconds. With his hands loose, he grabbed up the gun and fired a few more rounds until he was out of bullets. He reached over and felt around for a magazine in the guy’s belt. He yanked one out and slammed another in. He then dragged both men over to the door and laid them against it so no one could kick it open. Outside he could hear the commotion. The chance of him being able to walk out of that door alive was slim. His eyes scanned the room looking at the bamboo. He knew the lodge he was in was pressed up against the forest. The bamboo was way too thick to cut through. That’s when he looked down.

  “Jack Winchester.”

  He heard Castillo outside. The floor was made out of regular wood. The hut was raised off the ground. He pulled out the knife from the man’s skull and jammed it down in between the planks and began working it as Castillo continued speaking to him.

  “There is no way out.”

  Jack stopped only for a brief moment to fire a few more rounds through the door and shutter area in the event that any of Castillo’s men were thinking of rushing in. He wouldn’t have put it past them, they were psychos.

  A section of brittle wood gave way and a hole opened on one end of the plank. He began tugging on it with both hands while remaining mindful of the fact that at any moment he could be taken down by a round through the hut.

  It was an odd sight to see. He would work on pulling at the plank every ten seconds. He would lay on his back with the gun pointed towards the doorway, then he would drop, roll and yank on the plank only to return to his laid-back position.

  The screams of Jose continued to mask the sound of Jack hacking away at the wood.

  When the plank finally gave way, the one beside it was easier to get up. He didn’t even want to think about what was below. In homes in the USA, all manner of spiders and grass snakes lurked in dark places, but here… in the middle of the jungle… he had no other choice.

  He fired a few more rounds at the door. His shots were met with others that opened up holes in the hut. With the firepower they were using they would eventually rip through or simply charge the room. Jack slipped into the hole below the hut. The ground was wet and there were more cobwebs than he was comfortable with. The thought of being bit by some venomous snake consumed his mind. It wasn’t the fear of a bullet hitting him that bothered him. Hell, he had been in far worse situations but snakes. Screw that. He shuffled in the wet earth until he heard the sound he most feared.

  It hissed. Jack paused; the hairs on the back of his neck went up. He didn’t dare move even an inch, even as the snake slithered over his hands in front of him.

  All the while he could still hear Castillo ranting and raving about how he was blinded by darkness but that if he gave himself up, they would purge him and he would enter the light.

  Enter the light? This guy was a moron. The only light he was going to witness was the last blip of existence when Jack ended his life.

  The snaked slithered on past him and once he knew it was gone, Jack shuffled on towards the back of the hut. In the pitch dark with his body smothered in thick mud, the only visible sign of color would have come from the white of his eyes. Jack shuffled out from underneath and continued to stay low moving into the edge of the jungle.

  Staying low
and hoping that he didn’t walk into some large spider web and get bitten, he looked back at the camp. Jose was completely engulfed in flames and no longer screaming. Even though he had given him the opportunity to go back before they entered the camp, he couldn’t help but feel guilty.

  Jack dropped his head for a second before moving further into the forest. He heard the sound of more gunfire and assumed they had forced their way inside the hut as Castillo began shouting loudly and there was even more gunfire.

  Jack wondered for a minute about the woman who had covered her child’s eyes. What about them? How many others would he do this to if he turned away now? A hard rain began to fall. It wasn’t as hard as the previous night but it made remaining in that jungle that much more tortuous. With every step as he walked away he couldn’t push from his mind the sight of the woman. Her face grimaced at the sight of Jose. Castillo was forcing these people to endure this. Some were brainwashed. He was making them a part of his sick game so that even if they wanted out, they would be held responsible. It was a common practice in mob life. They would make you kill someone so that you couldn’t walk away. Sometimes they would record it and use it as leverage over you. Jack had always wondered if Gafino had recorded his first kill.

  Torn by what to do, he remained in place for what felt like half an hour. He watched from the forest as they tossed the smoldering remains of Jose into the river. The only light in the camp now came from the torches dotted around.

  If he had any doubts about returning to kill Castillo and help the women, it was what he heard next that settled it.

  “Jack! Hey Jack! I have someone here that you know.”

  Jack was still moving away from the camp when he heard the sound of a female’s voice cry out, then he said her name. It was Special Agent Isabel Baker.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Twenty minutes earlier.

  The intense downpour had caused delays in leaving Refugio Amazonas. It took a great deal of convincing to get Marcos to agree to head out. While the rain had eased off, it still wasn’t over. It was getting dark when they headed downriver and by the time they made it to the dense jungle it was pitch-black. Only the light from their burning torches allowed them to see.

  It was the worst possible situation. Finding herself in the middle of the jungle surrounded by venomous creatures had to have been right up there with her agreeing to jump out of a plane. An ex-boyfriend had convinced her into skydiving. Live a little, he said. Life is too short, he said. From the moment she poked her head outside the plane and saw the clouds, she knew she’d picked the wrong guy.

  “If there is any danger you are on your own.”

  “I understand, Marcos.”

  “Well, I just want to make sure we are clear. I don’t like the idea of coming out here in the middle of the night. It’s hard enough in the day.”

  They had been trudging through the jungle for hours when she heard the scream. It cut right through them. The very second Marcos caught wind of it he turned and fled.

  “Marcos,” Isabel yelled into the dark but he didn’t stop. His flaming torch bobbed up and down and slowly got smaller. She had considered for a moment following after him. But she hadn’t come this far to turn back now. She pulled out her Glock, gave it a quick check and then dropped the flaming torch into a nearby stream. Immediately she was enveloped by darkness. She used the light and sound of the man screaming as a means of navigating her way forward. That’s when the camp came into view. She heard gunfire, and then she saw a man being burned alive on a stake. It was horrifying. She couldn’t tell who it was as she was viewing him from behind. It was nearly enough to make her turn and run. She’d heard rumors from explorers about tribes who were cannibals. Was that what she was witnessing? She cast a glance over her shoulder and contemplated leaving. But with no flame and no guide, it would have been suicide.

  She turned back and squinted trying to make out what was going on. Right then, she heard an American’s voice, then several others. Though it didn’t ease her anxiety about the situation, it was at least comforting to know that she wasn’t going to find herself being chased by a rabble of half-naked tribal men.

  One half of the group had taken up position in front of a hut that looked to be riddled with holes. Every now and again she would hear gunshots coming from it, then they would return fire.

  What the hell is going on?

  She pulled out her phone and gazed down at it. Zero bars. No signal. She wasn’t sure why she expected to get a signal in the middle of the Amazon jungle, but then again she didn’t think the retreat place that she had come from would have had it but they did. Many of the places in the area used satellite, so there was a slim chance she might get a bar or two. She held up the phone and moved around. At least if she could get a bar, she could call Cooper and let him know exactly where she was using the GPS on the phone. Up until this point she had only told him that she was staying at Refugio Amazonas and heading into the jungle. If this was going to go south on her, she wanted to make damn sure that whoever the hell these people were, someone was going to pay.

  Frustrated by the lack of signal, Isabel pocketed the phone, gripped her gun with both hands and crouched down assessing the situation. Had this been any other place she would have called for backup and waited but this called for decisive action.

  They had more firepower than her and without a doubt the odds were stacked against her.

  She shifted her position to get a better look. That’s when she heard Jack’s name. Had he been responsible for the man burning at the stake? What other reason could have caused this group to take up arms? She knew that Danielle had apparently been taken but whether that was true or not was still to be seen. In her time in policing she had chased numerous missing children leads only to discover they had run away from home due to an abusive upbringing. Once they reached a certain age there was nothing the police could do unless they could determine a law had been broken.

  Danielle wasn’t a child. She was twenty-four years of age, certainly old enough to make her own decisions, even if they were misguided or conflicted with her father’s.

  Isabel moved in on the camp, her eyes darting back and forth. Her heart slammed against her chest. The only way she could hope to catch them off guard was to grab one of them. She saw them come out of the hut, and the man in a white shirt told a few of the heavily armed men to fan out into the forest. They disappeared and he began to shout Jack’s name.

  One of the men closer to the front entrance had his back to Isabel as she crept up. He was armed with a handgun. Nothing that she couldn’t handle. She kept her weapon held out in front of her as she approached. Her pulse raced as she got closer. If it wasn’t for the fact the guy in white was shouting, and the sound of gunfire was filling the air, she was certain the man would have heard her come up behind him. She placed the barrel of the gun against his head and told him to drop his weapon. He didn’t even think twice. He dropped it and she told him to get on the ground. Once he was on the ground, she placed a knee on his back and kept assessing the situation while she patted him down to make sure he wasn’t carrying any other weapon. Satisfied, she pulled out the cuffs that she had hoped to use on Winchester and cuffed the man’s hands behind his back, then hauled him up.

  “Move it,” she said pushing him forward while using him as a shield. She didn’t need to announce herself. As she came into the light of the camp, a woman screamed and the remaining men in the camp turned. One hand on the guy, the other holding the gun at the guy’s head, she stopped.

  “I don’t know what the hell is going on here, and quite frankly I don’t care. I’m only here for one person. Jack Winchester.”

  The man in white smiled. “It seems we both want the same person.”

  Isabel’s eyes darted between them as she saw his men move.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she yelled pushing the gun hard against the man’s head.

  “Who are you?” the man asked.

  �
�FBI. And I’m not alone either.”

  Of course she was but they didn’t know that and anything she could use to her advantage right now, she was going to use. The man in white looked around.

  “Where are they then?”

  “Listen up, asshole, I didn’t travel nearly four thousand miles, lose my luggage, get humiliated by Winchester and get eaten alive by bugs to have you question me. Where is Winchester?”

  “I’d like to know that too, he just killed two of my men.”

  Isabel gestured with her head to the smoldering mess that once held a man.

  “And him?”

  The man in white snorted. He carried himself with an arrogance as if he was untouchable.

  “What is your name?” he asked.

  “This isn’t a negotiation. Where is Winchester?” She pressed the barrel of her gun harder against the man’s head and he let out a groan.

  The man in white put out his hand. “Now, there is no need for that. We want the same thing here.”

  “So?”

  “He’s out there,” he said motioning with his chin.

  Isabel studied him then her eyes flicked to the most present danger — his men. They were moving very slow but forming an arc.

  “I will put a bullet through this man’s skull if you don’t tell your men to back off.”

  He chuckled and nodded slowly. “Government. You are all the same. You think you can sweep in and tell everyone what to do.”

  Isabel didn’t hear the person who crept up on her from behind. She just felt a hard smack to the side of her head and she dropped to the ground. Within seconds they had taken her weapon and yanked her upright.

  “Bring her over here.”

  Isabel groaned feeling pain shooting back and forth from the rear of her neck to the lower part of her back. Two of his men dragged her over and dumped her in the mud at the feet of the man in white. He crouched down and rooted through her jacket, pulling out her badge. He gazed at it and then back at her.