attendees.”
The man spat on the floor. “How would I even know that? You think they would tell me that? Fucking idiot.”
Kinimaka stared to squeeze. “You are a parasite, Almeida. You hear things. You make sure you hear things. It’s how you survive. Your dirty little friends hear things. The game turns, the players going round and round. It has been months. I know that you have a list of attendees. You wouldn’t be the filthy, lazy, bloodsucking fuck we know you are if you didn’t.”
Almeida’s eyes bulged as his jaw was squeezed in an unbreakable grip. Drake could almost hear him wondering just how far the big Hawaiian would go. It was a little ironic that Kinimaka had stepped up to the interrogation, since he was probably the most laid-back person in the room.
Almeida clammed up, pretending not to be intimidated. Alicia then hefted a heavy bag of nails they had procured along with a claw hammer. The threat was obvious.
Almeida suffered in silence for a minute, then said, “I can’t. They would kill me. Not just that. They would crush, chop, obliterate me. They could do worse than you. Much worse.”
Hayden nodded. “That I can understand. Yes, they could because they are unconscionable psychopaths much like yourself. But how would they ever know?”
“I ain’t telling ya, bitch. An’ I ain’t telling this big fucking whopper neither.”
Kinimaka let go of the man’s face. “Then you die,” he said. “You die tonight. In that chair. With your hands tied behind your back and no hope. Are you ready to die?”
“Ah, fuck off with the flowery speech, man, and hand me one of those nails. If I stick it through my ears it might drown out your bleating.”
Kinimaka bowed his head. “I tried,” he said. “For you. I really did.”
Almeida stared. “What are you taking about?”
Dahl and Smyth stepped forward at the same time. “Me,” they said in unison, before glaring at each other. As Almeida stared, Drake watched Alicia step quietly up to the back of the chair, towel in hand. With one deft swoop she wrapped it around the shocked man’s face and held it tight. Dahl then stepped forward with another bottle of water and, without ceremony, upended its contents over the towel.
Almeida struggled soundlessly, inhaling the liquid until Alicia gave him a moment’s respite. Then they started again; and again until Almeida buckled.
“Stop.” He held up a hand, spluttering uncontrollably. “Please stop.”
Hayden sighed deliberately. “You don’t tell us when to stop, asshole. We tell you when we’re ready to hear you start talking.” She motioned at Alicia to continue.
Another three empty bottles hit the ground before Hayden ended it. Even then she only gave Almeida a few seconds respite before slapping his attention into focus.
“Here,” she said. “Right here. Now do you remember what we want from you?”
“It’s some kinda natural ground-clearing they’re using and widening, right next to the Jutai so they can boat everything in. Even people. This guy’s a major whack-job, thinks he can tame the jungle or something. King of Leopard, ha!” Almeida spent a moment spitting up water before continuing. “Coordinates are in my wallet. Please, please don’t rat me out for this.”
Dahl nodded grimly. “Not a problem.”
“Good . . . good. Some of the people I have helped gain passage,” even the hardened criminal blanched, “you should not even speak their names . . .”
“What?” Alicia flapped the towel ominously. “If you’re about to say Rumpelstiltskin I’m afraid it’s back to Water World for you, boy.”
“No, no! There is Abdel Nour, leader of the Black Light; El-Baz, leader of The Dozen Death Squads; Boutros, ultimate boss of the world’s biggest cartel; Ghannouchi, leader of the biggest crime family in the world. Not America or Italy. The world. Al-Macabre, terrorist leader of Devil’s Breath, and let’s not forget Ramses himself . . .”
Drake listened
The man spat on the floor. “How would I even know that? You think they would tell me that? Fucking idiot.”
Kinimaka stared to squeeze. “You are a parasite, Almeida. You hear things. You make sure you hear things. It’s how you survive. Your dirty little friends hear things. The game turns, the players going round and round. It has been months. I know that you have a list of attendees. You wouldn’t be the filthy, lazy, bloodsucking fuck we know you are if you didn’t.”
Almeida’s eyes bulged as his jaw was squeezed in an unbreakable grip. Drake could almost hear him wondering just how far the big Hawaiian would go. It was a little ironic that Kinimaka had stepped up to the interrogation, since he was probably the most laid-back person in the room.
Almeida clammed up, pretending not to be intimidated. Alicia then hefted a heavy bag of nails they had procured along with a claw hammer. The threat was obvious.
Almeida suffered in silence for a minute, then said, “I can’t. They would kill me. Not just that. They would crush, chop, obliterate me. They could do worse than you. Much worse.”
Hayden nodded. “That I can understand. Yes, they could because they are unconscionable psychopaths much like yourself. But how would they ever know?”
“I ain’t telling ya, bitch. An’ I ain’t telling this big fucking whopper neither.”
Kinimaka let go of the man’s face. “Then you die,” he said. “You die tonight. In that chair. With your hands tied behind your back and no hope. Are you ready to die?”
“Ah, fuck off with the flowery speech, man, and hand me one of those nails. If I stick it through my ears it might drown out your bleating.”
Kinimaka bowed his head. “I tried,” he said. “For you. I really did.”
Almeida stared. “What are you taking about?”
Dahl and Smyth stepped forward at the same time. “Me,” they said in unison, before glaring at each other. As Almeida stared, Drake watched Alicia step quietly up to the back of the chair, towel in hand. With one deft swoop she wrapped it around the shocked man’s face and held it tight. Dahl then stepped forward with another bottle of water and, without ceremony, upended its contents over the towel.
Almeida struggled soundlessly, inhaling the liquid until Alicia gave him a moment’s respite. Then they started again; and again until Almeida buckled.
“Stop.” He held up a hand, spluttering uncontrollably. “Please stop.”
Hayden sighed deliberately. “You don’t tell us when to stop, asshole. We tell you when we’re ready to hear you start talking.” She motioned at Alicia to continue.
Another three empty bottles hit the ground before Hayden ended it. Even then she only gave Almeida a few seconds respite before slapping his attention into focus.
“Here,” she said. “Right here. Now do you remember what we want from you?”
“It’s some kinda natural ground-clearing they’re using and widening, right next to the Jutai so they can boat everything in. Even people. This guy’s a major whack-job, thinks he can tame the jungle or something. King of Leopard, ha!” Almeida spent a moment spitting up water before continuing. “Coordinates are in my wallet. Please, please don’t rat me out for this.”
Dahl nodded grimly. “Not a problem.”
“Good . . . good. Some of the people I have helped gain passage,” even the hardened criminal blanched, “you should not even speak their names . . .”
“What?” Alicia flapped the towel ominously. “If you’re about to say Rumpelstiltskin I’m afraid it’s back to Water World for you, boy.”
“No, no! There is Abdel Nour, leader of the Black Light; El-Baz, leader of The Dozen Death Squads; Boutros, ultimate boss of the world’s biggest cartel; Ghannouchi, leader of the biggest crime family in the world. Not America or Italy. The world. Al-Macabre, terrorist leader of Devil’s Breath, and let’s not forget Ramses himself . . .”
Drake listened
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