side. Her ripped shirt hung around her waist, revealing a sports bra and several ugly red welts on her chest and shoulders. They’d wasted no time in trying to break her. The two South Africans stood nearby, one a short, heavily muscled man and the other thin and gangly with a shaved head. The stocky man flexed his massive arms and approached Jill.
“You better tell us right now who you are and what you were doing in that clearing. Otherwise …,” he grabbed her hair and jerked her head upright. Jill opened her eyes but said nothing. He unleashed a backhanded slap, as vicious as it was unexpected. She still didn’t make a sound, just glared at him, hatred burning in her eyes, crimson blood oozing from her lip.
As Conti searched the wall of the hut for an opening large enough to squeeze through, a car pulled up on the other side of the building. A minute later, a third man with an overgrown Fu Manchu mustache barged through the door. He surveyed the room, then strode over to the two men standing near Jill.
“This is our little captive, is it?” He grabbed Jill’s face with a calloused hand and jerked it towards his.
“Leave me alone or you’ll regret it!” Jill shouted.
“Oh, American, eh? Why don’t you tell me who you’re working for, then? I doubt that you just happened to walk in on my guys in the middle of the woods as they were trying to, um … restrain a Chinese criminal.”
“I don’t know anything about any Chinese. I had to pee.”
“With a drawn pistol?”
“I’m afraid of snakes.”
“You know, I might believe you if you weren’t carrying this gadget. He picked up Jill’s watch from the table. “Not like anything you can buy in a store, is it? Very James Bond. I’ll be interested to see what it can do once you give us the code.”
“I won’t give you anything.”
“Oh, yes you will. I’ll ask again. Who are you working for?”
“I’m on pilgrimage. Hiking the Via Francigena to the Vatican.”
Mustache laughed. “In that case, you were going the wrong way. My boys saw you and your friend coming north on the trail this morning. O.K., enough messing about, we can’t stay here all day. Get out your tools, Tony.”
The stocky man opened a toolbox and pulled out a metal file and a small bottle of liquid.
“You wouldn’t think to look at him but my friend here is an expert manicurist. With a difference. He doesn’t stop when he reaches the finger — what’s that called, Tony? The sensitive part under the nail?”
“The quick.”
“Right. The quick. Just keeps going. Of course, he pours a little turpentine on it for lubrication. So, let me ask you one more time. Who are you working for?”
Jill spat in his face.
The man forced a thin smile. “Right, then. Proceed, Tony. You’d best tie her arms down a little tighter. One loop won’t be enough once the fun begins.”
Tony took off his belt and wrapped it around Jill’s right forearm, fastening it more tightly to the chair. Then he twisted her index finger back roughly and began to file away at her nail. After only a few passes, the nail was flush with the tip of her finger. Then the file began to gnaw at the skin. Tony stopped for a moment, opened the bottle of turpentine and poured a little on the raw tip of the finger. Jill’s muscles went rigid as if she’d had an electric shock. She screamed.
“Just getting started, aren’t we?” the leader lit a cigarette and blew smoke in her face. “Unless, you’ve changed your mind.”
Jill gritted her teeth and said nothing.
Conti watched in horror — it took everything he had to keep silent. Desperately, he searched for a way into the hut. A few feet away, he spied a steel panel with several bolts missing and carefully moved in that direction. He reached out and tested it. With a little leverage he could force it open enough to wedge his body through. He turned so that his back was against the hut, then pried open the loose panel. Squeezing through, he leapt
“You better tell us right now who you are and what you were doing in that clearing. Otherwise …,” he grabbed her hair and jerked her head upright. Jill opened her eyes but said nothing. He unleashed a backhanded slap, as vicious as it was unexpected. She still didn’t make a sound, just glared at him, hatred burning in her eyes, crimson blood oozing from her lip.
As Conti searched the wall of the hut for an opening large enough to squeeze through, a car pulled up on the other side of the building. A minute later, a third man with an overgrown Fu Manchu mustache barged through the door. He surveyed the room, then strode over to the two men standing near Jill.
“This is our little captive, is it?” He grabbed Jill’s face with a calloused hand and jerked it towards his.
“Leave me alone or you’ll regret it!” Jill shouted.
“Oh, American, eh? Why don’t you tell me who you’re working for, then? I doubt that you just happened to walk in on my guys in the middle of the woods as they were trying to, um … restrain a Chinese criminal.”
“I don’t know anything about any Chinese. I had to pee.”
“With a drawn pistol?”
“I’m afraid of snakes.”
“You know, I might believe you if you weren’t carrying this gadget. He picked up Jill’s watch from the table. “Not like anything you can buy in a store, is it? Very James Bond. I’ll be interested to see what it can do once you give us the code.”
“I won’t give you anything.”
“Oh, yes you will. I’ll ask again. Who are you working for?”
“I’m on pilgrimage. Hiking the Via Francigena to the Vatican.”
Mustache laughed. “In that case, you were going the wrong way. My boys saw you and your friend coming north on the trail this morning. O.K., enough messing about, we can’t stay here all day. Get out your tools, Tony.”
The stocky man opened a toolbox and pulled out a metal file and a small bottle of liquid.
“You wouldn’t think to look at him but my friend here is an expert manicurist. With a difference. He doesn’t stop when he reaches the finger — what’s that called, Tony? The sensitive part under the nail?”
“The quick.”
“Right. The quick. Just keeps going. Of course, he pours a little turpentine on it for lubrication. So, let me ask you one more time. Who are you working for?”
Jill spat in his face.
The man forced a thin smile. “Right, then. Proceed, Tony. You’d best tie her arms down a little tighter. One loop won’t be enough once the fun begins.”
Tony took off his belt and wrapped it around Jill’s right forearm, fastening it more tightly to the chair. Then he twisted her index finger back roughly and began to file away at her nail. After only a few passes, the nail was flush with the tip of her finger. Then the file began to gnaw at the skin. Tony stopped for a moment, opened the bottle of turpentine and poured a little on the raw tip of the finger. Jill’s muscles went rigid as if she’d had an electric shock. She screamed.
“Just getting started, aren’t we?” the leader lit a cigarette and blew smoke in her face. “Unless, you’ve changed your mind.”
Jill gritted her teeth and said nothing.
Conti watched in horror — it took everything he had to keep silent. Desperately, he searched for a way into the hut. A few feet away, he spied a steel panel with several bolts missing and carefully moved in that direction. He reached out and tested it. With a little leverage he could force it open enough to wedge his body through. He turned so that his back was against the hut, then pried open the loose panel. Squeezing through, he leapt
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