Crash Course by Derek Fee (pdf to ebook reader .txt) 📕

place by his captors. “This piece of human filth has been stealing from me to feed his habit.” Safardi punched Jesus a second time. A bead of sweat ran down Safardi’s hawk nose and fell to the parched earth at his feet. “But even a piece of filth such as this has its uses.” Safardi was walking up and down in lecture mode again. He nodded to Jaime and Pedro and the two Colombians stepped forward. “Deal with him.”

Kane could smell the stench of fear and urine which emanated from the stunned Jesus. The wave of apprehension which passed around Safardi’s men as the Colombians pushed the two men holding the prone figure out of the way was palpable. For the first time since he had seen Pedro, Kane noticed signs of animation in the Colombian’s thin face. Jaime let his Uzi slide back on its strap in order to grasp the prone figure of Jesus. A murmur ran around the men standing in the clearing and one or two shuffled their feet.

Jesus voided himself in fear and the stench of faeces was added to the smells of the glade.

“Now,” Safardi shouted.

The Colombians moved in perfect tandem performing like some well-rehearsed stage act. Jaime jerked Jesus’ head back sharply and Pedro ran a knife smoothly across his throat. Before the wound could bleed properly, Pedro shoved his free hand into the fresh gash pushing the loose jaw upwards. In the same movement, he pulled Jesus’ tongue out amid a torrent of bright red blood and left it hanging through the gaping hole in the man’s neck. Jaime released his grip on Jesus and the Spaniard stood for a second like some grotesque doll. Blood soaked his shirt and flowed down his exposed tongue before dripping into the pool forming at his feet. He swayed momentarily and then collapsed forward into his own blood.

Kane watched the scene in fascination, only partially aware of the retching noise behind him as one of the guards threw up at the rear of the clearing. Violent death was nothing new for him. But this was something altogether more horrific. This was the first time that a death had been organised as a spectacle specifically to impress him. He was appalled that human beings could behave in this fashion but he tried to hide his feelings. He knew that he was being watched by Safardi and his crew. Any show of weakness now and he could end up like the recently deceased Jesus. You fucking scum, Kane thought as he tried to control himself. He wanted to throw himself at these animals. Another thought assailed him. If he betrayed these people, he had better be prepared to go the whole distance. Anything less would be a severe threat to him and possibly to Morweena. Going rogue didn’t look like such a good idea after all.

Pedro turned Jesus’ prone body over so that those assembled in the clearing could admire his handiwork. The Colombian’s left arm was drenched in the Spaniard’s blood to the elbow but he seemed to be oblivious to the fact.

“You have seen the perfect demonstration of the Colombian necktie.” There was an edge of excitement in the Arab’s voice.

The bastard likes killing, Kane thought. Safardi was getting off on the obscene spectacle which had taken place before their eyes. He felt a wave of revulsion washing over him and remembered the picture of Lamont, the French detective. He would bring this bastard down no matter what it cost.

The drug baron slapped Jaime and Pedro on the shoulder. “My Medellín contacts sent me only the best. Is not Pedro as consummate a killer as any trained falcon? Such grace and such skill.” Safardi squeezed the Colombian’s shoulder.

The thin Colombian stood smiling at his master’s pleasure like a trained animal.

“Bury this garbage,” Safardi said and the guards picked up their ex-colleague. Jesus’ head rolled back, exposing for the last time the gaping wound in its full grotesqueness. “Don’t bury him too deep,” Safardi added. “The creatures of the Doñana also have to eat.”

The guards carried Jesus’ body out of the clearing and into the pines.

“Is the demonstration over or will there be an encore?” Kane’s mouth had gone completely dry.

“We’re finished for today.” Safardi released his grip on the two Colombians. “But the question of whether an encore will be necessary remains very much in your court.”

“The whole exercise was for my benefit?” Kane said, feeling revulsion at Safardi’s methods.

“I have known about Jesus’ little forays into my cocaine for some time. He was marked for death. The timing was the only variable. It would be a pity if the point of the exercise was completely lost on you.”

“I think I understand the point well enough,” Kane said coldly.

“Good.” Safardi smiled. “I would hate to think that Jesus died in vain. I’m trusting you to carry ten million dollars of product. You succeed then you earn what we agreed. You fail and I will give you to Jaime and Pedro. It’s what they call the carrot and stick approach. Please do not make me use the stick.” Safardi’s small sharp white teeth flashed.

The guards returned and Kane noticed that Pedro had washed the crimson stains from his hand and arm.

“Let’s get back to the villa.” Safardi began to stride back to the cars. “It’s time for your departure for Galicia.”

Chapter Forty-Five

Doc Watson was sweating bricks. It had taken all his nerve to present himself at the reception of the Carlton and ask for the key to Barrett’s room. He was surprised how easily the clerk passed over the copy of the piece of plastic with the chip. Slipping the card into his jeans pocket, he made for the bank of lifts.

Morweena watched Doc at the reception. She saw him pocket the key card and make his way to the elevators. As soon as he had disappeared inside, she went to the lifts and pushed one of the buttons, all the time watching the flashing