Thirty seconds more and Jake had his backpack in the back seat and had tied the man’s body into an upright position with the seat belt and more electrical cord. Moments later and Jake was behind the wheel and driving slowly out of the parking lot.
Jake knew that the Polizei would have to drive up the mountain from St. Anton, some 15 kilometers by road, so he went in the other direction, toward Germany. He could be near the border in ten minutes. As he got higher on the mountain, he saw the blue and white lights from a couple Polizei cars making their way up the mountain road to the gasthaus. Jake guessed they would first go to the room and find out what happened. By then he would be long gone.
The man next to him started to stir, so Jake swung a backfist, hitting the man in the face and knocking him out again. Blood rolled down the man’s face, down his right arm and down his right leg. Jake would have to stop across the border before this guy went into shock. He needed some information.
The border between Austria and Germany sat on the top of 2500 meter mountains here, with no way to cross. The road ahead would come to a small town and Jake would have to go left or right. Left and Jake would skirt the border and eventually be able to continue north and cross the unguarded frontier into Germany. Go to the right and Jake would head toward Garmisch-Partenkichen, Germany, or he would be able to backtrack toward Innsbruck before crossing into Germany. He went to the right.
A half hour later, convinced he wasn’t being followed, Jake pulled down a deserted country road and stopped. The man to his right had been semi-conscious a few times during the night and woke with swirling eyes now. Jake got out and rounded the car, opening the front passenger door and stooping down to the Serb still strapped into his chair. His dark eyes shifted toward Jake, unknowing.
“All right,” Jake said, “we’ve determined already that you speak English. Now you’re gonna tell me who hired you.”
The man licked dried blood above his lip but didn’t say a word.
Jake shook his head. “This can go many different ways. But in the end you’ll either die from shock or loss of blood, or you can die. . .in a different manner. Best case scenario? You tell me what I need to know and I drive you to the hospital in Innsbruck.”
The man sniffed. “You’re dead already. You just can’t see it.”
“Good. You can speak. I thought you might be dumb and stupid. Now. . .how do you want this to go?”
Still no answer. Great. Why in the hell do they all take the hard way? Jake pushed in the cigarette lighter and waited. The man’s eyes looked at the lighter and then to Jake, who yawned.
The lighter popped and Jake took it out and shoved it immediately into the man’s neck, bringing a loud scream and the man stretching his body against the restraints. The smell of burnt hair and flesh tweaked Jake’s nostrils. It was the one smell he really hated.
“This is just the beginning,” Jake said. “We can stay here all night until the battery runs out.” He shoved the lighter back into its slot and waited for it to pop again. “But once I start using this on your dick you’ll tell me what I need to know. I’ll guarantee it.”
When the lighter popped, the man jumped but still didn’t answer. Jake looked at the wound on the man’s forearm, where Jake’s bullet had struck the bone, leaving a nasty mess. With one swift motion, Jake grasped the lighter and shoved it into the wound that was seeping blood. The pain brought another scream from the man, instant sweat from his face, and then the guy passed out. Damn it. The pain was what Jake wanted, but he had pretty much cauterized the arm wound. He returned the lighter to its slot and thought of another method. Maybe his pocket knife would be enough. He pulled it out, unfolded the three-inch blade, and checked for sharpness. Not up to his normal standards. Good. That would work better.
Jake
Jake knew that the Polizei would have to drive up the mountain from St. Anton, some 15 kilometers by road, so he went in the other direction, toward Germany. He could be near the border in ten minutes. As he got higher on the mountain, he saw the blue and white lights from a couple Polizei cars making their way up the mountain road to the gasthaus. Jake guessed they would first go to the room and find out what happened. By then he would be long gone.
The man next to him started to stir, so Jake swung a backfist, hitting the man in the face and knocking him out again. Blood rolled down the man’s face, down his right arm and down his right leg. Jake would have to stop across the border before this guy went into shock. He needed some information.
The border between Austria and Germany sat on the top of 2500 meter mountains here, with no way to cross. The road ahead would come to a small town and Jake would have to go left or right. Left and Jake would skirt the border and eventually be able to continue north and cross the unguarded frontier into Germany. Go to the right and Jake would head toward Garmisch-Partenkichen, Germany, or he would be able to backtrack toward Innsbruck before crossing into Germany. He went to the right.
A half hour later, convinced he wasn’t being followed, Jake pulled down a deserted country road and stopped. The man to his right had been semi-conscious a few times during the night and woke with swirling eyes now. Jake got out and rounded the car, opening the front passenger door and stooping down to the Serb still strapped into his chair. His dark eyes shifted toward Jake, unknowing.
“All right,” Jake said, “we’ve determined already that you speak English. Now you’re gonna tell me who hired you.”
The man licked dried blood above his lip but didn’t say a word.
Jake shook his head. “This can go many different ways. But in the end you’ll either die from shock or loss of blood, or you can die. . .in a different manner. Best case scenario? You tell me what I need to know and I drive you to the hospital in Innsbruck.”
The man sniffed. “You’re dead already. You just can’t see it.”
“Good. You can speak. I thought you might be dumb and stupid. Now. . .how do you want this to go?”
Still no answer. Great. Why in the hell do they all take the hard way? Jake pushed in the cigarette lighter and waited. The man’s eyes looked at the lighter and then to Jake, who yawned.
The lighter popped and Jake took it out and shoved it immediately into the man’s neck, bringing a loud scream and the man stretching his body against the restraints. The smell of burnt hair and flesh tweaked Jake’s nostrils. It was the one smell he really hated.
“This is just the beginning,” Jake said. “We can stay here all night until the battery runs out.” He shoved the lighter back into its slot and waited for it to pop again. “But once I start using this on your dick you’ll tell me what I need to know. I’ll guarantee it.”
When the lighter popped, the man jumped but still didn’t answer. Jake looked at the wound on the man’s forearm, where Jake’s bullet had struck the bone, leaving a nasty mess. With one swift motion, Jake grasped the lighter and shoved it into the wound that was seeping blood. The pain brought another scream from the man, instant sweat from his face, and then the guy passed out. Damn it. The pain was what Jake wanted, but he had pretty much cauterized the arm wound. He returned the lighter to its slot and thought of another method. Maybe his pocket knife would be enough. He pulled it out, unfolded the three-inch blade, and checked for sharpness. Not up to his normal standards. Good. That would work better.
Jake
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