by K E Osborn
Mad Dog laughs as Techie drags the guy in. His knees are bloody and his mouth is bleeding too. I’m pretty sure Techie, and I’m assuming Ryder, have already had some fun with him.
“Well, well, a little Mexican friend. Take him to the Chop Shop. Chops get ready… Stealth, I think it’s time you see how we interrogate.” Mad Dog grins widely as Techie hands the guy over to Chops, who grabs him by his hair and pulls him toward the basement. It’s only now I take notice that his hands are tied behind his back with cable ties.
“What do you want with me, amigo? I know nothing. I’m just a family man esé. Please let me go.” His moan as Chops cracks his fist into his jaw echoes up from the basement stairs.
Swallowing hard as Mad Dog walks up to me, I try to control my erratically beating heart. I’m not entirely sure I can watch whatever is about to go down.
I’ve seen some terrible shit in my time as a detective, but this…
Mad Dog slaps my shoulder breaking me from my thoughts and starts walking with me toward the Chop Shop. “I know you’re new to this, but like I said, I’m taking you under my wing as my protégé. If you can’t hack this, then I’ll have to rethink my stance on that. You hearing me?”
Swallowing, I nod and take in a deep, steadying breath trying to calm the rising panic bubbling away inside me.
Four words keep ringing in my ears.
To serve and protect.
And right now, I’m about to stand by and watch—a probably innocent man—mutilated and more than likely die. The thing that really fucking sucks is, without blowing my cover, there’s not a damned thing I can do to stop it. If I want to be in Mad Dog’s good books, I have to not only stand and watch but try to enjoy the show.
We begin the descent down the dark stairwell into the Chop Shop and I take another deep breath never having been in here before. We arrive the bottom and Mad Dog opens the door. Stepping through, my feet feel heavy as my boots hit the concrete floor. Moving around the partition my eyes open wide when I see a metal chair and the Mexican strapped to it completely naked. Seeing the guy in all his glory disturbs me. I guess it’s to make the victim feel shame and embarrassment so they will talk faster. It makes sense.
Mad Dog treads up to the Mexican and pulls his chin up making him look right at him. The guy’s eyes open wide as he breathes fast and rushed like he’s panicking.
“I don’t know nothing, I swear esé. I don’t know who you’re after, but I can’t help you. I have a family… a wife, three daughters and one of them is pregnant with my first grandbaby. Please papi, I don’t know anything.” He flicks his eyes up to the right.
Mad Dog huffs and shakes his head. “Well, I’m sorry family man. If you’re here, there’s a reason. Techie wouldn’t just pull a random Mexican off the street for me.”
“I swear, I don’t know anything.” He glances up to the right again and I furrow my brows.
Mad Dog nods letting his chin go and turns to look at Chops. He grins and pulls over a trolley with a blue cloth draped over the top. I internally cringe not wanting to know what’s underneath, but what I do know is that I’m going to find out. He peels back the material to uncover a set of stainless steel surgical tools. A shudder runs down my spine as they glisten in the dim lights shining down from above.
“What the hell are they for?” the Mexican asks shaking his head from side to side like he’s refusing to admit he knows they’re for him.
Chops smiles and picks up a scalpel, he brings it up to his eyeline and twists it from side to side. The sight even stops my heart.
“They say that reattaching the amputated part of a finger is a long and complicated surgical procedure. Sometimes it can’t even be done.”
The Mexican pulls his wrists hard on his restraints as he struggles in the chair. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Chops looks at Mad Dog and he nods. Chops takes the scalpel and grabs hold of the Mexican’s hand bringing the blade down in line with his pointer finger.
“No, please! No. I swear esé, I swear I know nothing.”
Then maybe this will jog your memory.” Chops brings the Scalpel down and slices straight through the guy’s finger at the top knuckle just below the nail. His piercing scream slices through me as I feel his agony while watching the tip fall lifelessly to the floor and the blood ooze from his finger. He moans out in pain as he struggles in the chair. Chops lets his hand go.
“You fucking cocksucking motherfuckers. I don’t know anything. I told you. I don’t even know why I’m fucking here, and you’re chopping off my fucking finger? You guys are fucking loco.” He breathes harshly in and out of his nose and rests his head back on the seat. I take a deep breath trying not to let this get to me.
I’m conflicted.
I want to hate this, but I’m kind of enjoying it at the same time.
I want to let this guy go. And yet something in me—my training—is telling me he knows something. It’s the way he looks up to the right when he talks, that’s a sign of lying. I think he knows more than he’s letting on.
“I think you know exactly why you’re here. You’re lying. You keep looking up to the right. You’re breathing heavily. You definitely know something. The way you’re over exaggerating the fact you know nothing. How you’re pleading about your family. You looked up to the right when you talked about them too. I don’t think they exist. I think you’re full of shit. Getting your fucking finger sliced off is just the beginning for you… esé,” I say.
He glares at me and huffs, as Mad Dog chuckles and Chops nods like he’s impressed. He clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth and takes in a deep breath. “I’m still not talking. Don’t mock my accent or language again amigo, ‘cause when I get out of these restraints, I’ll fucking gut you like the el cabrón you are.”
Something washes over me. Anger. Annoyance. I’m not sure. I lunge forward clenching my fist and slam it into his jaw. The sting of his jaw bone against my knuckles reverbs down my hand as his head slams to the side and Chops laughs as Mad Dog places his hand on my shoulder.
“Easy Stealth, it’s your first time. Just watch for now.”
Breathing hard, I glare at the Mexican, who’s now smiling at me, which only intensifies my anger while harsh breaths move in and out of my nose.
“You pissed him off! You know what happens when you piss off one of Mad Dog’s men?” Chops asks and the Mexican shows his teeth with a broad grin.
“You have a Kumbaya and a group hug? Maybe a kiss or two?”
Shaking my head, I take a step back as Mad Dog chuckles and slaps Chops on the back. “Go for it Chops, this guy’s a fucking wankstain.”
Chops grins and puts down the bloodied scalpel. Instead, he picks up a pair of plier looking tools. Mad Dog chuckles and nods stepping up to the seat and grabs a black head strap from the back of the chair. The Mexican struggles moving his head from side to side, but Mad Dog grabs his head and slams it back against the metal, the thud making me jump slightly as the Mexican groans, stopping all movements. Mad Dog places the strap around his forehead tightening it, so his head is held firmly in place.
“Now that gold tooth of yours, is it real or plated?” Chops asks.
The Mexican takes a deep breath moving his jaw from side to side and then spits toward Chops, it misses and lands on the concrete.
“Now, now. That’s disrespectful. I think we’re being quite polite to you so far. You could, at least, answer our questions.” Chops smiles at him maniacally, his eyes twinkling with delight at the pain he’s going to inflict.
“I ain’t telling you shit.”
Chops nods. “That’s what I thought. It’s plated. Shame… would’ve been nice to have made some money from you. Oh well.” Chops looks at Mad Dog, who smirks leaning in grabbing his jaw and pulling it apart for Chops to gain easy access. Chops picks up a metal thing and starts to wrench it, it opens wide and he shoves it into the Mexican’s mouth so he can’t clamp his jaw shut. Mad Dog still holds his j
aw even though the clamp is in there just in case. My stomach twists at the thought of what’s about to happen. But like Mad Dog said, if I can’t stomach this, then I’m not going to be by his side, and I need to be. I’ve got to stick this out. Chops moves in as the Mexican moans and tries to struggle against Mad Dog’s grip. Chops moves the pliers into his mouth and grips onto the gold tooth to the side of his mouth at the top.
Taking a deep breath, I want to look away so badly, but my eyes deceive me and stay focussed on the torture. Chops begins to wiggle the tooth from side to side while the Mexican moans in agony. Blood trickles down from the gum, and Mad Dog snickers as the squelching sound of the tooth tearing from the gum turns my stomach.
“Almost there…” Chops declares as the moans from the Mexican become loud and grating on my nerves.
As Chops pulls the tooth free from its confines, blood spills to the back of his throat. He gurgles trying not to swallow the blood that’s pooling in his mouth. Mad Dog pulls the clamp free and he and Chops jump back from the Mexican quickly, obviously knowing what happens once you let go. He immediately spits the blood from his mouth. It doesn’t go far, mainly splattering on his knees and dribbling down his chin onto his naked chest where now, I notice scars that look like bullet wounds.
This guy’s no family man.
“You guys are fucking loco motherfuckers. I’m going to kill each one of you with my bare hands once I get out of here.”
Mad Dog laughs. “You’ll never step foot back on this premises, I can promise you that.”
“Then I’ll get you when you’re off site esé. Either way, you three are dead men. Seis pies abajo!” He spits out some more blood.
Chops shakes his head. “You’re still not going to talk?”
“What do you want to talk about? The weather? Politics? Your mama’s pucha?”
Mad Dog clenches his fist and slams it into the side of the Mexican’s face. A loud crack resonates through the Chop Shop, he groans in response and then his chest moves up and down in laughter. “You will get nowhere with me.”
Looking at Mad Dog, he’s furrowing his brows and clenching his jaw. I think he’s getting sick of this guy’s blazon attitude. If he doesn’t talk soon, I’m sure his torture is only going to get worse.
“Right, enough of this shit. Who’s José? And who’s his employer?” Mad Dog asks.
He shrugs and spits out some more blood. “No puedo hablar Inglés.”
Rolling my eyes, Chops and Mad Dog look at each other furrowing their brows.
“You can speak English, you dipshit. Don’t play games, or we’ll play them harder!” I demand.
Mad Dog looks at me nodding his head like he’s proud that I understood the Mexican. In my line of work, I’ve heard that line plenty of times before.
“Who does José work for?” Mad Dog asks moving in, shoving his fist into the still bleeding finger.
He moans out breathing harshly through his nose as he grits his teeth. “I’d rather go deaf than tell you anything about José.”
Mad Dog pulls back smirking. “Ah, so you do know José then. And going deaf, eh? We can arrange that if you won’t talk.”
“Go your hardest esé.”
Closing my eyes, my body slumps wishing he hadn’t said that. This guy’s asking to be killed. Although I’m pretty sure, he was never coming out of here alive anyway, but he’s just going to make the road to death a hell of a lot more painful if he doesn’t cooperate.
Chops picks the scalpel back up and moves to his side. The Mexican’s eyes move to the left as he watches Chops. He smirks as he grabs hold of his ear.
“What the fuck hombre. I didn’t mean it literally!”
Chops laughs. “Sorry, what? I can’t hear you?” He then brings the scalpel down behind his ear flap and begins to hack at the membrane with his scalpel.
A shudder runs down my spine as the Mexican screams out in sheer pain as the scalpel slices through his ear detaching it from his head. Yes, this won’t make him deaf, but it will absolutely cause a lot of pain. He squirms in the seat and his moans start to quieten as Chops pulls his ear away and throws it on the floor with the tip of the Mexican’s finger.
“There. They make quite the pair together on the floor there don’t they? But things are better in threes, I think? Don’t you think?” Chops asks.
“Oh, yes, definitely! Three isn’t a crowd at all,” Mad Dog agrees.
“What the fuck. No. No more. Please esé.”
“Then tell us what we want to know about José.”
He exhales and his body slumps. “Okay. I’ll tell you what I know. Word on the street is José is working for someone big. I don’t know his name, I’ve never met him. But my gang, the Ingratos, are working the streets for them. We supply the local gangs and thugs with their guns and drugs, and it keeps them happy.”
Mad Dog exhales and nods. “Who’s them?”
“I don’t know. That’s all I know, I swear.” He looks up to the right, I huff and shake my head.
“He’s lying again.”
Mad Dog looks at me and nods. “Chops, make the duo a trio.”
“No, no, please!” he calls out as Chops moves into him with a scooped shaped object. I wonder what it’s for, but then Chops moves two fingers to hold his eye open one above and one below his eye socket and I know this is going to be gruesome.
“No, not my eye. Please.”
But Chops doesn’t hesitate and plunges the scoop into the Mexican’s eye socket. His scream is louder than any of his previous. My stomach churns and bile rises in my throat, but I keep it down.
I hate this, but I love it.
My heart is racing as my mind is torn in two directions.
I should hate every second of this shit, but in some twisted as fuck way, I want the damage done to this guy. I want the intel, and I want him to suffer for being an arrogant arse prick.
I don’t know who I am anymore.
Blood pools down his face as liquid oozes from the socket too. A slight popping sound makes me swallow hard as the eyeball falls out of his socket and dangles lifelessly against his cheek. Clear liquid mixed with blood oozes from the now open eye socket as the Mexican is now eerily quiet. All moaning stopped, and just his harsh breathing can be heard in the room along with mine and the rapid beating of my heart.
“You still awake, amigo?” Chops asks slapping his leg.
He jolts slightly and swallows hard. “Si… barely.”
“Maybe this will wake you up. Off to be in the land of three,” Chops says grabbing some scissors and severing the strands holding the eyeball to his face. The Mexican groans and jolts as the eyeball drops onto his lap and then rolls onto the floor with his finger and ear.
“Now, maybe we have jogged your memory. I repeat… who are they?”
The Mexican swallows hard and takes a deep breath. “The Cartel.” All traces of sarcasm and aggression are gone from his voice, and now he’s only talking with lackluster defeat.
My back stiffens and a cold sweat runs over my skin. The 5113ers said they would come after us. I guess they weren’t lying.
“Fuck!” Mad Dog runs his fingers through his long hair and turns toward me clenching his jaw. “I suppose we knew this was coming.”
I nod as Chops grabs a large knife from the bench and looks to Mad Dog. He nods and Chops looks down into the Mexican’s remaining eye and smiles. “Thank you for your honesty.”
“Can I go now?” the Mexican asks.
Chops nods. “Sure, I’ll just undo your head restraint.”
I furrow my brows wondering what the fuck is going on, as Chops moves behind the Mexican and loosens his head restraint. He flexes his neck and looks over to Mad Dog.
“I won’t tell the Cartel I was here. I swear.”
Mad Dog nods and smiles. “I know.”
Chops brings his hand up containing the knife and shoves it straight into the Mexican’s neck. Blood splatters out all over Chops’ shirt. The Mexican gurgles, t
he blood pooling in his throat as his artery pumps it out of his system quickly.
I thought it was too good to be true.
Taking a deep breath, I watch as his head falls to the side gasping for air as Chops twists the knife slowly in his neck.
“C’mon let’s get a beer. I have some thinking to do.” Mad Dog slaps my shoulder and turns around walking toward the staircase. Taking one last look at the mangled Mexican, I figure it won’t be long before Jigsaw gets to him, and there’ll be more than three body parts on the floor.
Chops pulls out the knife as he smiles wide. “Enjoy your first time, Stealth?” he calls out.
“It was a wild ride,” I answer and turn needing to get the hell out of here. My feet hit the black stairs and they feel like lead weights. Sure, I’ve seen people die before. Hell, I watched it when the 5113ers came in all guns-a-blazing, but this was different. I feel like something in me is irrevocably changed forever.
For the worse or better? I’m not sure yet.
Only time will tell.
Chapter Five
We traipse up the stairs to the clubroom, and when we arrive the top of the stairs the guys are all laughing as Penetrator and Lookout are sitting at the bar staring each other down with the rest of the guys surrounding them. I look at Mad Dog, who rolls his eyes and shrugs, walking off to the assembly room by himself. I turn and stride over to my brothers to see what the hell is going on.
“Ready?” Crash calls out.
Lookout and Penetrator both say, “Aye,” putting their elbows on the bar for an arm wrestle.
“Place your bets!” Crash announces, and everyone starts putting their cash on Penetrator’s side. But Lookout, even though he’s strange, his muscles are huge. I know where I’m placing my bet. I place a twenty down on Lookout’s side.
“Thanks, bitch! At least, someone knows how this is gonna go down. And I love going down, especially on men.”
Everyone laughs as Lookout glares at Penetrator. “Hold up! What do the participants win?” I ask and they both look at me and smirk.