by Matt Rogers
He ensured the water was ice cold. He hadn’t had a warm shower in months. The process gave him a temporary boost of energy by increasing his overall oxygen intake.
Short term discomfort for long term benefits.
King was beyond tired, but he didn’t want to sleep. Not just yet. Partially because there was work to be done, and also because he was unsure as to whether he had been concussed during the mayhem of the prison breakout. Going to sleep after a concussion was one of the worst responses. It could lead to death. He knew he had a splitting headache and a shooting pain behind his eyes, and he had yet to determine whether that had come from sleep deprivation or being rattled by a stray punch or kick. Whatever the case, sleep could wait.
Raul had become distant once again.
‘You okay?’ King said.
Raul looked at him. ‘Does it look like it?’
‘Not at all.’
‘I’m worried, man. What if José’s a dead end?’
‘Then we can use other methods.’
‘Such as?’
‘There’s always other options, Raul. Let’s worry about those later. Don’t overthink it. Your family is probably fine.’
‘Mamá has her medication. I don’t know if Ana can deal with all of this on her own…’
‘We’ll find them.’
They set off into the crowd. Occasionally, a passerby would rudely bump into King. He ignored it each time. He didn’t want to set off another chain of events and wind up locked behind bars by corrupt prison officials and a psychopathic drug lord.
In fact, he never wanted to experience such a situation ever again.
‘Me and Luis used to deal along here,’ Raul said as they walked. ‘In fact, it’s where we got arrested.’
‘Along here? You never used to go into the tourist district at all?’
‘Look at me, man,’ Raul said. ‘I’m almost your height. I’m imposing. They kept me away from those places. The dealers in that area are pros. They can blend into the tourist crowd. They can look pleasant and approachable. All that shit. I never learnt that.’
‘Maybe that’s why you two got arrested.’
‘Maybe … you know, I thought they would have paid the cops off. Like, don’t interfere with any of the Movers.’
‘They might not have known you were a Mover. They might have thought you were competition and pounced on you for interfering with the territory your gang was paying them to protect.’
‘You think?’
‘Then when they realised you were a Mover, they would have approached Rico. And obviously he had no further use for you. So he let them lock you up.’
‘Piece of shit.’
‘I concur.’
Raul looked ahead and his eyes widened. He changed direction and came to a halt out the front of a food vendor’s truck. The pleasant smell of cooking meat wafted from the opening. Raul pretended to study the menu.
‘There’s one right behind me,’ he said. ‘Loitering out the front of that alley.’
King turned and scanned the pavement inconspicuously, trying not to draw attention to himself. He saw the man Raul was talking about. A guy in a sleeveless vest showing off his muscular arms. He had a mean scar under his right eye and his head was shaved bald. He looked Spanish, with olive skin and pearly white teeth. Tough, but approachable enough to buy drugs off. He had his hands clasped behind his back and he patrolled slowly between each side of the alleyway.
King saw the unmistakeable bulge of a firearm tucked into the side of his waistband. That might pose a problem.
‘You sure?’ he said to Raul. ‘I don’t want to confront the wrong guy.’
‘I’m sure,’ Raul said. ‘He worked for the Movers back when I was around. I saw him every now and then.’
‘You think he’ll recognise you?’
Raul shook his head. ‘Not a chance. I was a nobody. Still am.’
‘Well, here goes…’
He turned on his heel and made straight for the guy. Strolling slowly. Non-threatening, simply curious. He stopped in front of him and surveyed the scene, making a point to linger within just enough range to be noticeable.
The guy perked up. He spoke sharply in Spanish. King turned and feigned curiosity.
‘English?’ he said.
The guy held up a flat palm and tilted it to each side a few times. ‘Little bit.’
‘I’m looking to get high.’
The guy smiled. ‘You come to right place. You tourist?’
King nodded. ‘I’ve got a lot of cash to burn.’
‘What you want?’
‘Whatever you’ve got.’
‘Cocaine?’
King nodded again. ‘Fine by me. How much do you have?’
‘You take what I give. I no have much.’
‘Wonder why that is…’ King muttered, then thundered a fist into the man’s gut.
He’d been surreptitiously advancing as the conversation progressed, leading the man just far enough into the lip of the alley to avoid the attention of most passersby. When he found himself in enough of an isolated position to deal with the guy, he shredded the casual, relaxed demeanour that had baited the Mover. The man had received no warning signs from King, and as a result he’d dropped his guard.
The first punch almost took him off his feet. It drove into the guy’s stomach with enough power behind it to send him skittering back a few feet, shuffling further into the alley.
King’s heart rate skyrocketed. He’d been eager to deliver as much damage as possible with the element of surprise on his side. He’d put everything into the punch. It hadn’t hit the vital organs he’d been aiming for. The guy didn’t double over. He didn’t drop to the ground in a heap. He stayed upright …
… and began reaching for the gun in his waistband.
King had a running start, so he made full use of it. There wasn’t time to reach back for the Taurus tucked into his own waistband. By that point, he’d have a bullet buried in his skull. He had a split second to act.
Without hesitation, he took two steps and launched off one foot, using every shred of athleticism he had. With the other leg he bent at the knee and followed through, swinging it in a scything uppercut. His kneecap smashed into the Mover’s jaw as the guy was fumbling at his belt.
Hands down. Chin exposed. A perfect shot.
The man crumpled, his legs giving out. King landed with a foot on either side of the guy’s motionless body and looked down. The man was now in the throes of unconsciousness. His jaw had cracked under the force of the blow.
King realised he wouldn’t be getting any answers from the man.
‘Shit,’ he whispered.
The plan had been to knock the breath out of the Mover, drag him further into the alley and interrogate him about where Rico was stationed and how exactly to gain access to him. He might have been able to determine the location of Raul’s family, if the Movers had them. The reality meant King had over-reacted and created a situation that drew attention. The frantic movement had caused a couple of pedestrians to swivel their heads, noticing the incident.
He couldn’t stay here.
Swearing at his own ineptitude, he crouched and searched the man’s pockets, moving quickly. He had to get out of here before more eyes reached them. The last thing he wanted was an on-foot police chase through the streets of Maiquetía.
In fact, he didn’t want to see another policeman for the rest of his time in Venezuela.
His search turned up a thick roll of cash and a cheap plastic mobile phone. He slotted both items into his pockets, then turned and retreated out of the alley, leaving the Mover to come to in a dazed stupor, wondering exactly what had happened and where his possessions had gone. King knew his memory would be hazy.
He’d experienced his fair share of severe concussions, including one just a few short months ago in Australia.
That brought back memories of a similarly dangerous situation. It truly seemed that wherever he turned, trouble foll
owed. King scurried out of the alley and blended back into the crowd, cursing his bad luck.
But how many times could he find himself in similar situations and still attribute it to coincidence?
Perhaps he was supposed to do this forever. Maybe violence was attracted to him. Maybe his destiny was to travel the world, righting wrongs, helping those who couldn’t succeed on their own.
He forced the dumb thought from his mind and headed back to the hotel with Raul trailing quietly in his wake.
CHAPTER 33
‘The hell was that?’ Raul said as they stepped back into the hotel lobby.
‘I got a little too aggressive,’ King said.
‘I know. Why? I thought you were some kind of superhuman.’
King glanced at him. ‘Quite the contrary.’
‘You knocked a guy out with a flying knee on your first attempt. That’s not exactly normal…’
‘Just a lot of practice.’
‘Whatever you say, man. You’re crazy.’
‘I wasn’t supposed to do that. He went for a gun and I reacted.’
‘Couldn’t you get the gun off him at the start? Or do your all-seeing powers not extend that far?’
‘I thought I’d incapacitate him with the first punch. Ended up missing the target area.’
‘Ah,’ Raul said, punching one of the buttons on the panel next to the elevator. ‘So you make mistakes after all.’
‘We all make mistakes.’
Raul stepped into the elevator as the doors swung open and sighed. ‘I’ve made a few.’
‘What will you do after this?’ King said.
‘No idea, man. Let’s just find my family. Then I’ll work out what the hell to do with my life.’
King nodded and decided not to press the matter any further. It was time for a proper sleep, even though it was still mid-afternoon. He found his muscles exhausted after a gruelling three days. Fighting exerted enormous physical energy, fatiguing the body faster than almost all other exercise, and King had done his fair share of the stuff over the course of his latest escapade. He knew he needed sleep to recharge for whatever lay ahead.
They burst into the hotel room and headed to separate beds, both large and spotless and inviting. King locked the door behind him, dropped his head onto the mattress and was asleep in a matter of moments.
They slept through the evening and into the night. Again, King didn’t dream. He slept soundly, undisturbed. And he knew why. He’d experienced the same sensation in Australia, and it worried him sick.
He seemed to struggle to sleep when his life followed the course of normality. When he wasn’t fighting for his life, or being pursued by various members of society looking to kill or torture him, he didn’t feel at home. For ten years he’d dashed from one location to the next, always fighting, always in motion. When he tried to live an ordinary civilian’s life, he struggled to acclimatise.
It was a habit he knew he needed to break.
A harsh, discordant ringing woke him up in the early hours of the morning. It came from somewhere within his jacket pocket. The sound tore through the silence of the hotel room. Raul’s head reared up from his pillow as King sat up to withdraw the source of the noise.
The Mover’s phone.
There was no caller ID on the screen. Just a random number. King hesitated, considering letting the call go to voicemail. He hovered a finger over one of the buttons.
‘Answer it,’ Raul said. ‘Just don’t say anything. See who it is.’
King nodded silently, and took the call. He switched the phone to loudspeaker and stayed quiet. Wondering if it might be the man’s employer checking in on him.
A voice crackled to life, blaring through the quiet of the hotel room. ‘Well, if it isn’t just the man I wanted to talk to. And Raul, I see you’re tagging along with him. That’s awfully rebellious of you. Why didn’t you do your time like you were supposed to, huh?’
Rico.
King glanced across to Raul, whose face had turned pale. He saw Raul’s hands beginning to shake. Utter fear. Not many people could evoke such a reaction.
There was no use staying silent. Rico was onto them.
‘How did you know?’ King said.
‘I run a tightly oiled ship,’ Rico said. ‘That’s how I got to where I am today. By clawing my way up through the disgusting ranks of society and sticking to the game plan. And that game plan involves regular check-ins from every dealer I have out on the streets. This guy missed his. Which must mean he’s dead, because I do not tolerate ineptitude.’
‘He’s not dead. I knocked him out.’
‘Oh. Well, when he crawls back here I’ll be sure to finish him off.’
‘What do you want?’
‘You shot me. You broke my arm. You don’t do that to someone like me.’
‘You put me in prison for something I didn’t do.’
‘You’re fucking right I did. And you should have shut your mouth and done everything I told you to. Yes sir, no sir, of course sir, right away sir. You clearly have no idea who I am.’
‘I don’t care who you are. Or how powerful you think you are. You know the thing about people like you?’
‘What’s that?’
‘Everything in you breaks just as easily.’
‘See, the way you’re talking shows how much of an amateur you are. You’re out of your depth here.’
‘I seem to have gotten away with it.’
‘Not really.’
‘Oh?’
‘Ask Raul how his family’s doing.’
An icy atmosphere descended over the hotel room. King felt his heart rate increase as his worst fears were confirmed. Raul’s mother and sister hadn’t fled. They weren’t hiding away somewhere, waiting until all was safe to return to their ordinary lives.
They’d been taken.
Raul began to hyperventilate. It seemed that he’d been suppressing his emotions. Now the sheer panic ripped through him, brought on by the knowledge that his mother and sister were in the hands of a psychopath. He gripped the bedsheets with white knuckles and gnashed his teeth, attempting to disperse some of the rage flowing through his veins.
King stayed level-headed.
‘You have them?’ he said.
‘Of course I do.’
‘When did you take them?’
‘I got my men to move in as soon as you two left El Infierno. I knew exactly where they were.’
Raul burst to his feet, veins popping in his neck. ‘How long have you known about them?’
‘There he is!’ Rico said, and laughed cruelly. ‘Wondered how long it would take you to rear your head.’
‘How long?’
‘Since you stepped foot in my office and asked for a job. You must think I’m stupid. Leverage is an important tool in my business. I know where the families of all my employees live. I have a hundred men willing to take anyone out on my command. I was going to do the same to you. Really brutalise their bodies, leave them in place for you to find. Maybe paint the walls with their blood. But — as much as I hate to admit it — your friend is rather talented. If I killed them, it would carry the risk of you escaping. So I’ve taken them alive, because I want you on a silver platter, Raul. And your friend. I’ll show you what happens when you fuck with us.’
‘What’s stopping me from leaving?’ King said. ‘This isn’t my concern.’
‘Because you seem like the type of idiot to try and help. If you wanted to leave, you would have done so already. I’m very interested to see how this plays out.’
‘What do you want?’
‘You two will meet me at La Guardia Enterprises in exactly three hours. It’s a big abandoned warehouse. Just closed down. You’ll come unarmed and you’ll both surrender yourself. Then I’ll let Raul’s mother and sister live.’
‘You’re insane if you think we’ll do that,’ King said.
‘Your choice. If you don’t show, I’ll torture his family for a month. And I’ll make sure to
find where he’s holing up and mail him little pieces of them for the rest of his short life. How’s that sound?’
‘Fuck you,’ Raul said.
‘I knew you’d come round. Three hours. Or you’ll never hear from us again, and I’ll make Ana despise you for never showing up.’
A sharp click came from the other end of the line, signifying that Rico had hung up. Raul surged forward, snatched the phone off the bed and hurled it at the wall. It gouged out a sizeable chunk and came to a halt lodged halfway into the plasterboard.
‘What do we do?’ he said once the initial anger had subsided.
King stared into space, chewing a fingernail, contemplating. The choices were grim. Rico had them both exactly where he wanted them. He sighed and got off the bed.
‘I don’t know, Raul,’ he said. ‘I honestly don’t know. We have no idea where he’s keeping them. We have no firepower. We honestly don’t stand a chance.’
‘What about all the shit you’ve got away with?’ Raul said. ‘Why can’t you help me?’
‘Punching people has its limits. We’re up against an entire gang here. I’m not sure what can be done with what little information we have.’
Raul paused and crossed the room. He took a long hard look out the only window in the room, facing out over the Caribbean Sea. He glanced down at the buildings lining the shore. Then he turned back to King.
‘We have some information,’ he said. ‘Because I know where Rico’s keeping them.’
CHAPTER 34
He led King to the window and showed him a stretch of land alongside the ocean. Most of Maiquetía’s coastline was home to beautiful beaches, yet there was a small portion on the outskirts of the city that was nothing more than a vast patch of concrete, littered with tiny specks. From this distance, King couldn’t quite make out what they were.
‘What is it?’ he said.
‘It’s an abandoned shipyard,’ Raul explained. ‘Those are boats. Some are cruise ships.’
‘Big place.’