“Shit.” he says, wiping his face. “You are more and more like Jak every day.” It is true. I aim to be.
I sit everything in front of me on the tray and pull my gun from my back. This too I sit in front of me. With everything laid out, I take a second and calm myself, reminding the anger inside of me that I need answers and if I end him right away, I am back to square one.
“Let’s start with what I know. I know your boss is Stepan Popov, nephew of swinia, Fidel Popov.” His nostrils flare at the Polish word for pig. I have always found it fascinating that no matter the language, the word swine sounds fundamentally the same. “I know you traffick young girls and women and I know what he does to his assistants. How am I doing so far?” For a split second his eyes show shock at the information I have amassed, but he covers it quickly. “Excellent. Let’s not waste time on denials. Now, what I need to know is where his hideout is. I need to know where he keeps the girls and how to get into his penthouse undetected.”
My gaze shifts to Nose because I know he probably has this information since it has been a few hours, but I want the betrayal to come from his own people. “????? ?? ???,” he spits at my feet. I am going to assume he told me to fuck myself. Okay.
Moving methodically and with control I am not feeling, I grab the pinchers and walk toward him. “Alright. I get it. Those questions might be too hard to start with. How about this. Tell me why the fuck you were inside of my woman’s apartment going through her shit?” he looks momentarily unsure. I know I shocked him with the knowledge that she has someone, but hey, he is not getting out of here, so. When his jaw sets, I know he is going to say nothing.
“Well shit, Boss. I think we might have one that really knows what loyalty is.”
“I think you might be right. I would admire it if it wasn’t getting in my fucking way.” Pinchers in my hand, I press the decompressor to release the clamp. Leaning down, my eyes don’t stray from his. I want him to see it coming. Seems his brain kicks in right when I get one of his balls with the jaw of the tool. He starts moving, attempting to jerk himself free from his confines, cursing in his native tongue.
Smirking, I press the lever that pulls the tool back to its original state and close my eyes as his screams fill the concrete walls. I twist the tool, jerking it back, well aware I am dislodging his manhood from it resting place, but ask me if I give a fuck.
“Fuck. Shit. Stop. Ahhhh. Stop.” He screams over and over. I see his eyes rolling to the back of his head as piss and blood slide down the chair. Shit. I can’t have his ass passing out. I don’t have all fucking night. I release the pressure and step back so Nose can douse him once again. “Oomph.” He groans when the hot water hits him.
“Look at me, Skurwielu.” His eyes squint open and he tries to hold his head up. “This can be easy or hard. Easy means I ask, you answer. Hard means I ask, you give me shit, I have fun. Up to you.” I turn my back for a moment, giving him a second to think it over.
“Look, I don’t know, okay. He just told me to go there, see if I can find anything about her that he didn’t already know. He is obsessed with her. More than the others.” Fuck. Of course he is. She is beautiful and sweet and everything that is light and translucent in this dark, foggy life we live.
“I see. Thank you for that.” I walk further into his face, our noses basically touching. “How do I get past his security to the penthouse?” he starts to chuckle and shake his head. “Something funny?”
“Yeah. You thinking you can fuck with him.”
“And why is that?” I want him to keep talking even when I feel like I should bash his head in.
“Simple. His security system is state of the art. Disabling it takes a blackout and a..” he stops talking realizing he has said too much. Sneering in his face I simply thank him, with a sharp twist of his nuts. “Ah fuck. I answered you. Christ.” He yells into the air, shaking and sweating.
“I know. I just felt like hearing you scream.” I tell him, walking toward the torch. When I pick it up, Nose, who has been quiet this entire time, curses and starts shifting on his feet. I hold in my chuckle at his obvious aversion to this brand of torture, but I love the smell of burnt flesh. “Now, let’s get down to the good shit. Where is the warehouse?”