Chapter 111

"So you want to do this. He knows the location, the condition of our people, and the numbers and types armaments. We absolutely want to know and we don't give a crap what shape he is in when he talks. He most likely will not be filing a complaint," the mission commander said. "So you want to take the first crack at him. Remember he is a drug dealer not a terrorist. We don't have time to fuck with him and he has no rights."

"I'll see what I can do," I said.

"His name is Hector," The commander added as I entered the room.

"Hector I'm going to leave the hood on you. If you don't see our faces, we can release you. If you want the black bag off your head, I'm afraid you are going to have to die. So let's start out assuming you are going to be release at the end of this questioning. How difficult this interrogation becomes is totally up to you. I am a bit squeamish, so I hope it doesn't get anything less than cordial."

"The problem is the we are in a terrible hurry to find our friends. So let's begin," I said then took a deep breast and let out a sign. "Where are you keeping our friends."

"Fuck you puta," he said.

His hands were zip tied to the chair. "That was just rude," I said as I clipped the first joint off his hands with the pruning sheers. Then I used the butane plumbers torch to cauterize the wound.

"Having to do that was unfortunate, but it's your fault. You gave me no choice. You would be well advised to keep your answers civil. Now where are they keeping out friends?" I asked.

"I got nothing to say butcher," he said.

I walked to him with the sound of my steps he tensed. I pruned his little finger again. Again I hit it with the torch to stop the bleeding. "You really should fight to remain conscious. If you pass out you are of no use to me and the black bag comes off. As long as you have it, there is a good chance you will leave here alive. Where are the keeping our friends?" I asked.

"At a car shop. They have them in the office." he said weakly.

I looked over to the Commander. He nodded his agreement.

"Very good Hector, you have almost earned your freedom. Just tell us how many men are there and what arms they have at their disposal?" I asked.

"There are probably ten men the have some AK47s and the like," He said.

"Very good hector this is the jackpot question. How many men are you holding there?" I asked.

"We have one man and one woman." he answered.

"So what kind of condition are they in?" I asked.

"The man has been shot the woman is doing well," he replied.

"Where is the third one," I asked.

"They threw his body over board." There was a smile on his face under the bag I was sure. I looked up at the Commander he nodded again. I took my Air Force Pilots Survival knife and cut his throat just a hard and deep as I could. If he didn't suffocate from a blocked airway, he was going to bleed out in a under a minute. I didn't meet anyones eyes as I walked from the room and threw up out the back door.

"Sylvia, what to you think about driving his body to the garage and dump him there. When they come out to look, we go in fast and dirty," he asked. Drive the van right through the front doors. We can go out the back doors."

"I want you to dump the body, then drive around the block and cover the back door. Kill any son of a bitch who comes out." The commander said to me.

"No, I will dump the body. I will move car to the rear door it, then assault the back door while you go in the front. Don't shoot anyone in a ski mask," I suggested.

"Did you all hear that. No one who is alive in there, and not restrained is to leave alive. This is a total massacre," Andrew, the commander said.

When the time came, I drove up to the auto repair garage and fish tailed into the parking. I also opened the passenger door and pushed Hector out. Then I got the fuck out of the parking lot. I swung the light in the ass Chevy rental car around the block. Used the shotgun to take out the lock on the back door. That and a well placed push with my full body wait and the door swung open. I went inside with the M4 replacing the breach gun. I shot two mean who turned away from the van in the reception area to confront me. After I shot them in the chest I went into the office area where I found the Israeli Chic badly battered but able to stand and great me. Such was not the case of the second wounded operative. He was laying on the floor with a belly wound.

I used the blood stained knife to free the woman. The wounded opearative was going to need more help than I could give him. There were bodies everywhere and a small fire fight going on at that moment. The Israeli Chic and I left her partner to join the fight. With shots coming from their rear the men tried to surrender. Too bad we weren't really the DEA. We were just pretending to be DEA agents. We even wore the DEA initials on the back of our vests.

"How are you," I asked after I executed the gun thugs. The Israeli Chic shot one of them till his chest was meatloaf. I figured something he did to her, she took personal and let it go at that.

We loaded the wounded operative and the commander of the strike force, who took a bullet in the back, into our one usable van. The chic and I went out in the four door Chevy family sedan in which I had carried the body.

"This seat is soaked with blood," she said.

"Somebody named Hector," I said.

"Couldn't happen to a nicer guy," the chic said.