The Bari Bones

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The Bari Bones Page 9

by Urcelia Teixeira


  “That didn’t take you long,” Sam said with glee, humored by the shocked expressions of the two Chinese associates on the boat. Quite unexpectedly the tables had turned for them as they now watched their ringleader under threat of being killed. Alex moved in front of Sam, setting up a barrier of protection between their guns and Sam. She pushed her gun deeper into her hostage’s temple and told him to instruct his associates to put their guns down. She knew he understood English, all Chinese did. He ignored her. Alex tightened her grip around his neck and moved her gun down to his thigh.

  “I don’t have to kill you to make you talk, you know,” she warned him, pushing the barrel firmly into his hamstring.

  It did the trick and a few short commands left his mouth, after which his men dropped their guns at their feet.

  “I hate to be a party-pooper but I think it’s time to blow out the birthday candle,” Sam announced as he pushed his chin toward the flickering light in the middle of the deck ahead of them.

  It wasn’t only her eyes on the candle. The two men in the boat had their eyes pinned on it too, and with good reason, since the wax was burning away faster than any of them would’ve liked at that point.

  “Tell them to extinguish the candle,” Alex commanded her hostage, this time forcing the gun into the soft spot above his ear. He complied immediately with no additional effort required. His men, on the other hand, did not and he barked his staccato words once more. Again they ignored him. Alex turned her gun onto his men.

  “Do as he says or I’ll kill you both!” she yelled.

  The two men exchanged glances and, as if their ringleader sensed their next move, he barked another command at his men. Under her grasp, Alex sensed he was angry at his men’s blatant insubordination. The words had barely left his mouth when his suspicions came to pass and he stood stunned as he watched his men speed off in the boat, leaving their ringleader captive in the hands of the enemy.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sam hissed one long whistle between his teeth. “Now that’s a stab in the back if ever I’ve seen one.”

  The stupefied look on their prisoner’s face declared that he too hadn’t seen it coming. Alex felt the man’s shoulders droop beneath her grip as his body reacted to the shame and calamity his men had brought upon him. In the midst of the new situation they now faced, the candle flickered back and forth in the gentle late evening breeze, its flame coming dangerously close to the deck on far too many occasions. Out of time and not willing to tempt fate any further, Alex executed the strangling technique she had acquired through her special forces training on their now prisoner. Ten seconds later she let the man fall unconscious to the floor at her feet. With their immediate threat now deactivated she leaped across the deck and extinguished the burning candle before turning back to free Sam.

  “I wonder how many times you still have to save my life,” he said as she worked her way through the knots.

  “Probably as many times as you have to save mine,” Alex replied when her fingers slipped through the last knot around Sam’s wrists.

  “What cowards would leave their leader for dead like this?” Sam asked as he started peeling his petrol-soaked clothing from his body.

  “The inexperienced kind,” Alex answered as she dropped her clothing on the floor too. “These guys were either complete imbeciles or total novices, not to mention the fact that they think women don’t possess a brain,” she added.

  “I’m inclined to think they’re equally idiotic and inexperienced. But the real question is, who are they working for?”

  “Well, this time we have leverage and a source. Unlike our previous attackers, this guy is very much alive, and if I have my way with him, he’ll rat them out in no time. Besides, once he wakes up and recalls what happened, he’ll want revenge,” Alex said as she disappeared below to take a shower and put on fresh clothes.

  “Okay, don’t worry about the half dead guy on our deck. You just keep knocking them over and I’ll keep cleaning up the mess,” Sam said with playful sarcasm as he looked down at the unconscious man lying at his feet.

  After they’d washed the flammable liquid from the deck, Alex and Sam had both dozed off where they were keeping guard next to their prisoner. They had tied him up to the very ladder Sam had been secured to, taking extra precautions with a set of handcuffs. It was in the early hours of the morning when the metal against metal sound of his handcuffs woke Alex. She watched silently as he wrestled in a futile attempt to free himself, wondering if he thought he could swim the three miles back to shore if he was successful in his escape. With the next loud clanging sound, Sam woke and spotted the amused expression on Alex’s face. Letting it play out he eventually cleared his throat, startling their prisoner who didn’t find humor in the situation when he soon realized they’d been watching him squirm for some time already.

  “No, please don’t let us stop you,” Sam said sarcastically and sat back as if he was readying himself for the start of a film.

  The man mumbled something in his native tongue under his breath.

  “Yes, yes, we get it. You’re a little upset that your friends could just leave you behind like that. Spare us the pity party and tell us who hired you,” Alex jumped straight in.

  “What, no coffee first?” Sam mocked, further annoying their Chinese prisoner.

  Even though the man’s lips were pursed with anger, two tight white lines that were clearly visible in even the faintest of dawn light, he wasn’t about to talk. Yes, he’d been festering about the very betrayal since he woke, but he was no rat.

  Alex stretched, disappeared downstairs and soon reappeared with two coffees, adding to the man’s torture.

  “Right, shall we start again?” she asked as she took a sip of coffee.

  “Tell you what, since I consider myself fair and all, I’ll start with an easy question. How about you tell us your name?” She placed her cup down on the table and stared directly into his face where he sat cuffed to the ladder on the floor. The man didn’t answer.

  “When were you last around a woman when she wakes up before sunrise, mate? I wouldn’t mess this one around if I were you. She’s not what I’d call a morning person, if you know what I mean,” Sam cautioned him over the brim of his cup.

  Alex stared the man down and between her forceful gaze and Sam’s casual warning, the man finally succumbed.

  “Chen Zhao,” he mumbled.

  “Now that wasn’t so hard was it?” Alex mocked taking another sip of coffee before commencing a sequence of questions. “And where might you be from, Chen Zhao?”

  Again he contemplated not answering before replying.

  “Dongguan.”

  “And where exactly is Dongguan?”

  “South China, near Hong Kong.” Chen had no trouble answering now.

  “Who do you work for, Chen?”

  “I don’t work for anyone,” he said.

  “What about your friends? If you can even call them friends. I’d call them cowards,” Sam interjected.

  Chen spat out into the air and mumbled something in Chinese.

  “English, mate, we don’t understand a word you’re saying,” Sam spoke again.

  “Why were you trying to kill us? Who gave you the orders?” Alex continued the questioning.

  Chen squeezed his lips together and turned his face away from them. Alex didn’t say a word in response. Instead she disappeared below deck again and came back with a freshly boiled kettle which she plonked on the table in front of them. Just to be certain he knew what could happen, she slowly added the hot water to her cup, allowing the steam to wisp into the air. Sam cleared his throat, drawing Chen’s attention to the steaming hot water display.

  “Let’s try this again, shall we? Why were you trying to kill us and who gave you the orders?”

  Chen’s eyes were pinned to the kettle of steaming water on the table, but as if to call her bluff, he still didn’t answer. Alex rose, lifted the kettle from the table and moved closer to wher
e Chen had already curled his body into a ball. Alex didn’t budge. She tipped the kettle over and allowed a thin steady flow of boiling water run onto the deck close to his bare feet—they had removed his shoes while he was sleeping. A tiny splatter of hot water splashed onto his ankle causing him to instantly pull away. Alex stopped. It was a taster. She stared him down, yet he kept quiet. He was an imbecile, she thought as she went down on her haunches and tipped the kettle over once more, this time directly above his head. Intentionally missing his head, she allowed the small stream of water to trickle down past his ear and onto his shoulder. Tricking him into thinking that it was a simple misjudgment on her part and that he wouldn’t be as lucky when she corrected her mistake, should be enough to frighten him into talking. Her tactical theatrics paid off when the burning sting soaked through Chen’s shirt onto his skin.

  “Okay, okay!” he screamed.

  Alex paused.

  “I don’t know who he is. He only spoke to me via phone,” Chen divulged.

  Alex got up and stared out to where the sun cast its bright orange blanket over the horizon. He hadn’t had the phone on him when they’d searched his pockets. The cowards must have taken it with them. She turned back to face him again.

  “What exactly were your orders?”

  “He wants the liquid. That’s all I know, I swear!”

  “The liquid from the bones,” Alex clarified.

  Chen nodded.

  “Did he say why?”

  Chen shook his head.

  “How much was he willing to pay for it?”

  “One hundred thousand American dollars.”

  “And, as it stands, you don’t have the manna nor know who does,” she continued.

  “We have no idea where it is. He was convinced you had it, because you were with the boy. Now, no one knows where it is.”

  “And the priest? Did you murder the priest?” Sam questioned.

  “No. That wasn’t us.”

  Alex stared out across the ocean again.

  “Does the number forty-nine mean anything to you?”

  Chen suddenly looked up. His eyes moved between the kettle and Alex’s gaze.

  “So you do know what it means,” she confirmed.

  “I think it’s still hot, mate,” Sam nudged, referring to the kettle Chen’s eyes now fixed on. He sighed but changed from his curled-up position and stretched his legs out before he answered.

  “The Fangs,” Chen reluctantly declared.

  “What’s that?” Sam asked.

  “You have the same burn mark on your right wrist as the dead guy who came before you.” Alex spoke, her words having the exact effect she had hoped for.

  Chen shuffled restlessly as his mind digested the death threat.

  “The Hong Kong Fangs.”

  “So it’s a gang?” Sam clarified.

  Chen nodded, visibly annoyed with himself for giving up the information without much of a fight.

  “So the numbers are identifiers?” Alex reasoned out loud.

  Chen nodded again.

  “Excellent. You did great, Chen,” she mocked. “So here’s how it’s going to go. You’re going to tell us everything we need to know about the Hong Kong Fangs. Where they operate from, what they do, everything. Got it?”

  “I’m as good as dead if I tell you,” Chen argued.

  “Well, I might be wrong, my friend, but your gangster friends left you to die, so I’m guessing they think you’re probably dead already.”

  Chen didn’t look pleased.

  “Why the long face, mate? That’s great news for you… and us, if you think about it. If you’re already dead, they won’t come for you. It’s a win-win!” Sam exclaimed.

  “They know everything and their eyes are everywhere. There’s no escaping them, believe me,” Chen scoffed. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with, trust me. All three of us are as good as dead.”

  “You’re assuming they’re after us,” said Alex.

  Chen broke into a nervous laughter, declaring just how deep his fear for the Fangs ran.

  “They are! There’s a bounty on your heads and they won’t stop until they see your corpses and, thanks to you, mine too. They’re like a Mexican cartel and Italian mafia all rolled into one. They’re everywhere from the east to the west and everywhere in between, operating in cells while receiving full police protection.”

  “So that explains your military issue QBZs and the drone,” Sam inferred.

  “And why they’re able to track our every move,” Alex added.

  “You’ll never make it out of here alive, fancy yacht or not,” Chen declared.

  From where Alex had been standing watching the sunrise, she paced across the deck and looked Chen squarely in the eyes.

  “And that, my friend, is exactly where you come in. You are going to make contact with your connections and find a way of getting us into China safely.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chen vehemently opposed going along with Alex and Sam’s plan for him to conspire against the Fangs. In his mind it wasn’t even a case of principles over ratting his clan members out, it was fear for his life and what they’d do to him long before they eventually killed him. But Alex and Sam were relentless and Chen soon realized they’d probably kill him otherwise—albeit a far more merciful death. So when he finally gave up the fight he took the burner phone Sam handed him. As if he needed any further persuasion from them, Sam looked him squarely in the eyes.

  “Let’s get one thing straight, Chen. If you as much as breathe the wrong way or pull any sneaky moves, I’ll do more than pour a kettle of hot water over your head. Got it?”

  Sam’s warning was nothing more than a bluff, of course, but Chen didn’t need to know that. If they were going to trust this man to get them into China, they’d have to make certain he feared them.

  Chen nodded while his shaky fingers moved through the buttons on the phone. A brief but serious conversation, under Sam’s penetrating stare, followed before he delivered the phone back into Sam’s hands.

  “All set?” Sam asked Chen.

  “Yes. My man will meet us in Split.”

  “When?” Alex asked.

  “Midnight tonight.”

  Alex glanced at her watch and then, with slight trepidation, at Sam.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll be there. By my reckoning it’s about nine hours by boat form here. If we don’t run into any more surprises, we’ll have plenty of time to get there before midnight. I just hope for your sake your ‘man’ can be trusted, Chen,” Sam added.

  “I trust him with my life. He’s high-ranked and has many influential connections in the group and besides, he owes me a favor for saving his sister’s life some time back. He’ll come through for me.” Chen raised his chin as he spoke the last sentence, but not just for his captors’ benefit. After the last betrayal he was desperate to believe that he still had at least one person he could trust.

  The trip northbound across the Adriatic towards Croatia went smoothly, at least for the most part. The underwater riptides along the coastline proved much stronger than Sam had anticipated. As a result, to avoid capsizing where the gusts pushed the yacht sideways, he was forced to zig-zag the yacht across, which unfortunately added a substantial amount of hours to their traveling time. Deciding that Chen’s dark gray military outfit would certainly give away the situation, Alex had him change into some of Sam’s clothes. Almost half Sam’s size, the clothes hung loosely on his body but, cleaned up and dressed in civilian clothes, it erased all evidence that he had set up their meeting under duress and was about to smuggle two Brits into China.

  It took a little more than twelve hours for them to eventually reach the small port of Divulje in Split. “You ready?” Sam asked Alex in the kitchen below deck.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be. At least we’re in a position to retain our weapons since it’s fair to say we’re gaining illegal passage into China. That’s if Chen’s contact knows what he’s doing and doesn’t
also pull a fast one on him. Once we’re in, we don’t need Chen anymore.”

  She loaded both Glocks and passed one to Sam before hiding her Beretta in its usual place inside her ankle boot. She always made certain she carried an auxiliary weapon.

  “Where are we meeting the guy?”

  “Behind some restaurant or bar at the end of the jetty. Come on, Alex, we need to go.” It was close to midnight by the time they stepped off the yacht.

  Since it wasn’t quite the summer season yet, the midnight air was crisp against their faces as Alex and Sam walked alongside Chen toward their meeting point. Apart from the four moored sailing yachts and one empty ferry, the port was completely deserted. Not trusting the desolate location, Sam had cuffed Chen’s wrist to his, as insurance. The tide pushed the humble jetty across the water, making it slightly more challenging to walk along, but they soon stepped off onto dry land in Croatia. Chen paused and trailed his eyes along the shore.

  “There,” Chen pointed towards the small restaurant that sat a bit further along the road next to the harbor wall.

  With only a few soft red lights that illuminated the large name sign on the pitched roof and one small yellow lamp that hung at the front door, it looked nothing more than a derelict timber shack. It was already closed for the night and there wasn’t a person in sight. Further away the only three streetlights cast long shadows across the empty parking area that was flanked by open lots on both sides. Their feet crunched noisily on the small brown pebbles that lay scattered across the surface of the dirt road leading up to the distressed timber building. In the distance behind them the rigging of the moored yachts chimed against their masts, amplified by the offshore wind that pushed into them from behind. As they approached the dark shadows behind the restaurant, Alex rested her hand on her gun in the small of her back. Chen whistled a quick multi-tone tune to announce their arrival and moments later a similar whistle answered back. With her hand still on her gun, Alex tightened her grip on the handle, feeling the hard steel etch into her palm.

 

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