Chapter 25: Demon
“You know the drill. I want to know your name.” He didn’t answer right away. This led to Payne cutting him a few times on the face and then slicing his neck. He finally gave in. “My name is Esteban. I don’t know anything more than Juan. We were told to watch and follow her if she left the compound. We were to get our hands on her and call that number. Yes, Jefe Nunez is upset. Those were his favorite cousins. All I know is, he said she had to pay, and he had a lesson to teach.”
“Lesson? What kind of lesson? To whom? Zara?” Payne pounced. Esteban shrugged and shook his head. Payne drew back and punched him in the mouth. Blood gushed, and I saw him spit out a couple of teeth.
“Don’t stop now, Esteban. What lesson and why?”
“I don’t know!” Esteban screamed back at him then looked scared. Payne gave him a smile. It was like looking at a snake before it struck. Like lightning, Payne lashed out and made random cuts over more of Esteban’s body, right through his clothes. He stabbed him in the thigh like he’d done Juan.
Meanwhile, Juan was still going in and out of consciousness and amigo one was watching our every move with hate in his eyes. I walked over to Payne and whispered in his ear, “I think he’s given us everything he knows. I want to get to number uno over there. He’s the damn leader. I know he knows more than these two chumps.” Payne nodded.
As I stepped away from Payne, he walked around behind Juan and casually slit his throat as he passed him on his way over to number one. I watched Esteban’s eyes glaze over in horror and realization. None of them were leaving here alive or in one piece.
I was the one to rip the duct tape off of number one’s mouth. He glared at me. I smirked. “You need Chapstick for those lips. I bet they’re sore, aren’t they?” The others all chuckled.
Payne eased in front of him. He leaned down. “You know the routine, amigo. I want your name and then what you know. I can see you’re a determined guy. You think you’re tough and mean. That you can withstand anything I dish out. But I promise you, you can’t. I can take you apart while you watch. What’s your name?”
He didn’t say a word. I was the one to punch him in the mouth and a few other places that would hurt the most and leave a lingering reminder. I was done letting Payne have all the fun. The next half hour was a dance of us asking questions and him resisting while we beat and cut him. At the end of it, we did know his name. It was Ricardo. He didn’t tell us. Esteban did.
Ricardo was bleeding from several wounds and was turning black and blue from the beating, but he was still hanging in there. I had to give him grudging respect, but I knew Payne was about to step things up a couple of notches.
He walked over to his tool cabinet, as he liked to refer to it. Inside, he had a plethora of things you could use to torture someone. He took a minute or two to decide what he wanted. When he came back to Ricardo, he had a small blowtorch and a serrated knife—one of the ones that reminded you of the one Rambo used to hack down trees. He looked at Jake. “Bring that table over here, prospect.”
Jake hurried to bring over a small side table. He set it beside Ricardo. “Good. Now I want you to untie his left hand and hold it up here. Hold it nice and tight.” Amigo one tried to fight Jake, but he got his hand loose and on the table. Payne bent down.
“I want to know where Jefe is. What is the plan for Zara? What lesson is he trying to teach? Each time you refuse to tell me, I’m taking a fucking finger. Do you understand?” Ricardo spit at him. Payne laughed.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Question one, where is Jefe Nunez?” Ricardo glared at him. Payne shook his head as he slowly laid the blade against his left forefinger. He could have quickly chopped it off. The blade was sharp enough. But not Payne. He slowly sawed back and forth, causing the most pain. Ricardo swore and jerked. When his finger was off, Payne fired up the torch and cauterized the wound. We didn’t want him to bleed to death. Esteban whimpered in horror.
It wasn’t until he’d taken the second finger, that Ricardo answered, “He’s here in the U.S. Last I heard he was in Virginia up around Washington DC. He wanted to be close by, so when we got her, he could be here.”
“What is he planning to do with her?”
Again, Ricardo said nothing. It took two more fingers for him to answer. By this time, Esteban had vomited all over himself and pissed his pants. Ricardo was pale and clammy as he answered,
“He said something about showing her what he should have in Mexico. What a real man was like between her legs. Then he’d be sure she was nice and broken in before her new owner picked her up.”
I growled. Not that it surprised me, but it pissed me off. I marched over and grabbed the baseball bat leaning against the wall. I came back and bashed him in both shins. You could hear them break. He screamed in agony. Then I walked over to Esteban and aimed my gun between his eyes.
“You’re done being useful. Rot in hell, Esteban.” I shot him.
By this time, Ricardo looked a lot more uncertain and afraid. I stomped over to stand beside Payne. “What is the lesson? Who is it for?”
“I don’t know who it’s for. Some guy is all I heard. He was trying to get out of a deal with Jefe. In exchange for not killing him, he offered Jefe the doctor. He said he could help get her to Mexico. That she would be useful.”
“Useful how?”
“I don’t know. Jefe doesn’t tell us all the details. But I’m telling you, he’s not going to give up. She’s going to be his, even if he has to wait years. No one makes Jefe look bad and gets away with it,” he warned.
“Any idea who this buyer is?” Payne asked him. Ricardo remained mute. Ahh, he did. I picked up the blowtorch Payne had laid on the side table. I fired it up.
“Open up his shirt.” Payne sliced it down the front and off of him. I laid that flame to his skin. The smell of burned flesh permeated the air. It was a horrible smell that was hard to forget. Ricardo screamed and then fainted. I stopped torching him and slapped him back awake.
“Let me ask again. Who is the buyer?”
He was now done. You could see it on his face. “It’s Benito Vasquez-Garcia.”
“Who is this Vasquez-Garcia?”