Black Coke

by James Grenton

  She looked around the lounge. Where could it be?

  She tipped everything out of her handbag. It was too difficult to feel anything with her numb hands. She prodded the pile of things with her foot.

  There it was. Under her diary.

  The elevator in the corridor dinged as though announcing a prize.

  Lucia knelt down, picked up the phone and twisted her head round so she could see the screen. She typed in her password and fumbled through the numbers, trying to find Nathan’s new one.

  The elevator doors whirred.

  The phone’s screen flashed. An incoming call.

  Nathan calling…

  Footsteps down the corridor.

  In her panic, she dropped the phone.

  A key rattled in the front door.

  The phone bounced under the sofa. Lucia dived and rolled and tried to pluck it out with her tied-up hands.

  The front door was flung open.

  ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ Amonite said, striding towards her and kicking her in the back. Lucia curled up in a ball.

  ‘Get up, you bitch,’ Amonite said.

  Lucia struggled to her feet. Dex and Rudolph entered, carrying the body of a woman.

  ‘You!’ Lucia said.

  Rudolph grinned. The door slammed shut. They plonked the woman on the sofa. Lucia looked down, and immediately recognised the long blonde hair and slim body.

  ‘Joanna!’ Lucia shouted.

  She hurled herself head first at Amonite, who brushed her aside. Lucia staggered back, leaning against the wall, helplessness and fear washing over her.

  ‘If you hurt her,’ Lucia muttered, ‘I’ll—’

  ‘You’ll what?’ Amonite laughed. ‘Kill us?’

  Rudolph was staring at Lucia with lecherous eyes.

  ‘Don’t you worry, buddy,’ Amonite said to him. ‘You’ll have your fun.’

  Rudolph’s smile sent a sliver of dread down Lucia’s spine. He retreated into a corner, next to Dex, and stood there, arms crossed, face dark.

  Amonite gestured to the armchair. ‘Sit down, Lucia. We need to talk.’

  Lucia stayed standing.

  ‘Okay, suit yourself.’ Amonite plonked herself in the armchair and crossed her legs as though about to engage in polite conversation. ‘Tell me where Nathan’s gone and I’ll spare this girl’s life.’

  ‘I dunno where he is.’

  ‘You’re lying.’ Amonite picked up the baseball bat from the floor. She whacked Joanna once in the stomach. Joanna groaned. Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused.

  As if reading Lucia’s mind, Amonite said, ‘She’s loaded with Black Coke, so no pain. Yet.’ She patted one hand with the bat. ‘So, are you going to stop lying like a bitch? Or do I have to smash every single bone in her pretty little body?’

  Lucia’s shoulders slumped. ‘He’s in Ciudad Bolivar.’

  ‘See.’ Amonite grinned at Dex and Rudolph. ‘All she needed was a little encouragement.’ She turned back to Lucia. ‘What for?’

  ‘He wouldn’t say.’

  ‘Don’t be a pain.’

  ‘I swear.’

  ‘Does anyone else know?’

  Lucia shook her head.

  ‘Bullshit,’ Amonite said.

  The bat landed on Joanna’s chest. Ribs cracked like twigs. Joanna squirmed.

  ‘He’s looking for your base.’ Lucia fell to her knees. ‘That’s all I know.’

  ‘Does he know where it is?’

  Lucia shook her head.

  Amonite smashed the bat onto Joanna again. More ribs broke. Joanna’s eyes opened wide. She let out a long moan, thrashed around. Amonite hit her on the head. She went limp.

  ‘I’ll ask you one last time.’ Amonite lifted the bat. ‘Who else?’

  Lucia launched herself at Amonite, head down again like a battering ram. Amonite dropped the bat, but was thrown off balance by Lucia’s attack. Lucia was all over her, pushing her to the floor, fury surging through her. She tried biting Amonite, headbutting her, whacking her shoulders into Amonite’s face. Strong arms peeled her away and threw her into a corner, where she curled up into a ball again. Amonite rose to her feet. She brushed herself down and reached into her jacket. She drew a gun and a long barrel, which she screwed onto the gun.

  She pointed it at Lucia, who closed her eyes. So this was it. Her final moments. Murdered like a dog, in a hotel room, by the very organisation she’d vowed to bring down.

  ‘Hey, you promised,’ Rudolph shouted.

  ‘Yeah, I did.’

  Lucia opened her eyes. Amonite had swivelled round and was pointing the gun at Joanna’s head.

  ‘No!’ Lucia screamed, trying to crawl forwards.

  Amonite pulled the trigger twice. There were two loud spits. Joanna’s body jerked like it had been given an electric shock.

  Lucia’s head was spinning. She slumped onto the floor, sobbing.

  Amonite unscrewed the barrel from the gun and put both bits away. She gestured to Rudolph.

  ‘We’re off,’ she said. ‘She’s all yours.’

  Chapter 73

  Ciudad Bolivar, Colombia

  15 April 2011

  Nathan looked blankly out of the taxi window. Why had Lucia yelled at him? She’d completely lost it, with her neck flushed and her eyes blazing. It was no surprise they’d kicked her out of Colombians Against the Front.

  And yet. There was something else. An intense concern.

  Anguish.

  Dread.

  Nathan clicked through his mobile until he found Lucia’s number. He hit ‘call’. The screen flashed.

  Calling Lucia…

  He hung up. It was just wishful thinking. She’d rejected him in bed. She’d shouted at him twice now. She was disturbed, furious at him, at others, at the world. He gazed at the lights flickering outside the rows of red bricked shacks of Ciudad Bolivar that streamed past under the tangled web of electricity wires that hung overhead.

  But there was something deeper. Honesty, passion, a desire for justice. Underneath the fierce exterior was a woman he knew he could relate to, maybe even love, on a profound level. He knew what Caitlin would have said.

  He hit ‘call’ again.

  Calling Lucia…

  He hung up, sighed, put the phone in his pocket. He was useless at this. Whenever he tried, the words came out wrong, made things worse. Yet he wanted to go back to see her, to hug her, to kiss her, to tell her everything would be okay. He knew she was hurting, that something powerful was happening between them, that thin tendrils of attachment and attraction were weaving their way round them, pulling them closer while events crashed around them and threatened to tear them apart.

  He looked outside again. They were heading down a dirt road, the driver slaloming the vehicle to dodge the potholes. By the side of the road, half in the shadows, a young couple embraced, their arms wrapped round each other like vines.

  And still no call from Manuel to tell him where to go.

  Nathan tapped the cab driver’s shoulder.

  ‘Sí?’

  ‘Change of plan. Can you turn round and—’

  Nathan’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

  ‘Un momento,’ Nathan said to the driver.

  Unidentified caller.

  ‘You on your way?’ It was Manuel speaking.

  ‘Yeah, although—’

  ‘I’ve spoken to them. We’re waiting for you.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Just entered Ciudad Bolivar. But—’

  ‘Great. Here’s the address.’

  ‘Okay, wait a sec.’ Nathan put the mobile on speaker phone. ‘Can you explain it to the driver?’

  Manuel rattled out directions in Spanish. The driver nodded, then answered back.

  ‘Nathan, you there? You’re about half an hour away,’ Manuel said, switching back to English. ‘And Lucia?’

  ‘What about her?’

  ‘She’s not answering her phone.’

>   ‘Maybe she’s asleep.’

  ‘Okay. See you soon.’

  Nathan hung up and put the phone away. His body felt tired and the bruises and bullet wound were aching. He needed to focus on the mission. He’d sort things out with Lucia later.

  The cab headed deeper into Ciudad Bolivar.

  Chapter 74

  Bogotá, Colombia

  15 April, 2011

  Amonite and Dex left the apartment. The front door slammed shut behind them with a sense of finality that made Lucia shudder. She tried to swallow her tears and glared at Rudolph, who was eyeing her up with a triumphant grin. He marched up to her, grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to the bedroom. She struggled to free herself, but his grip was too strong. She kicked at his shins. He let out a coarse laugh and slapped her across the face. She cried out.

  ‘Shut up,’ Rudolph said. ‘Or I’ll blow a hole through your head just like that friend of yours.’

  He flung her onto the bed. She tried scrambling away, but he grabbed her foot and yanked her towards him. He towered over her, undoing his shirt and trousers. His face was twisted with lust and there was a bulge under his pants. He pulled them down, revealing his erect member, which he stroked with his hand.

  Lucia couldn’t believe it. Two attempted rapes in as many days. Fear turned to anger. She lunged for the bedside lamp, but couldn’t reach it with her hands tied behind her back. Rudolph twisted her away. He slapped her repeatedly.

  ‘Lie back, you bitch.’

  Lucia tried squirming away, but he had his whole body on her. He pinned her to the bed with his left hand while ripping off her bathrobe with his right. Lucia bit his neck. He headbutted her twice. Stars appeared before her eyes. She lost consciousness.

  When she came to, he was tearing her underwear off. Lucia kicked him in the chest. He toppled backwards, teetering on the edge of the bed, off balance, then tumbled to the floor, whacking his back against the wall.

  ‘You slut!’

  Rudolph’s eyes narrowed as he got up. Lucia tumbled off the bed, staggered to her feet and raced for the doorway. He grabbed her ankle and pulled. She fell and smacked her head against the floor. He jumped onto her back, pinning her face down. He grabbed her hair and yanked it backwards so that her face was a few inches off the floor tiles.

  ‘You are so stubborn,’ he said.

  She twisted her face round so she could see him out of the corner of her eye. He was reaching for his trousers on the bed and pulling them towards him. He fumbled around, then pulled a hunting knife from a sheath on his belt.

  Lucia swallowed. It couldn’t get much worse than this. Tortured, raped and killed at the hands of a psychopathic German mercenary. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for the pain. This was her punishment for causing Joanna’s death.

  ‘See this.’ He put the knife in front of her, its blade sharp on one side and jagged like a saw on the other. ‘This is for you.’

  He grabbed her shoulder and tried to twist her onto her back. As he did so, he lifted himself up, but lost balance again. He dropped the knife and put his hand out to stabilise himself. Lucia seized her chance. She rolled onto her back and pushed off the floor with her hands, putting Rudolph further off balance.

  ‘Hey, you little bitch,’ he said, as he toppled over sideways.

  She tucked up her right leg and kicked him in the face. He howled and brought his hands up to protect himself. She kicked again, to his groin. He cursed and rolled away, clutching himself.

  Lucia jumped to her feet. Her heart was beating so hard she could feel her chest trembling. She raced into the lounge and headed for the front door. It was locked. She scanned the room for the keys, but couldn’t find them. She ran into the kitchen, grabbed the scissors and snipped off the cable ties.

  She ran back into the lounge. The baseball bat was lying on the floor next to the sofa. Dex must have left it here for Rudolph. She dived for it just as Rudolph stormed into the room, knife in his right hand.

  ‘You whore.’

  He charged at her just as she picked up the bat. He had too much momentum and barely had time to lift his hand to protect his head as Lucia swung the bat straight at him. The bat crashed through his guard, hitting him on the side of the head. He swayed on his feet. The knife fell to the floor.

  Lucia lifted the bat again, determined to finish him off. There was a thud as the bat hit his skull. He crumpled, blood oozing from his temple. She took a step back and studied him for a second. He rolled onto his back and opened glazed eyes. His hand groped around for his knife. He shook his head as though trying to clear it. Lucia just stood there, as though hypnotised, still clinging onto the bat. Part of her mind was screaming at her to escape while he was down. The other part was telling her to finish him off, to seek revenge.

  Rudolph’s fingers curled around the hilt of the knife. His eyes flashed. Still Lucia didn’t move, her mind a mass of confusion and fear. Rudolph propped himself up on his elbows and smirked, as though understanding what was going through Lucia’s mind. He slowly, confidently pushed himself into a squat and was about to stand up when something clicked inside Lucia.

  She brought the bat crashing down on his head. Rudolph’s eyes widened in surprise. She hit him again, feeling the skull crack. Rudolph swayed from side to side. He dropped the knife. She hit him a third time, the bat splitting his jaw. He collapsed to the floor and lay still.

  She dropped the bat and knelt next to him. She felt his neck for a pulse.

  Nothing.

  She let out a deep sigh and collapsed into the armchair, trying not to look at Joanna’s dead body on the sofa. Sobs wracked her body. She picked herself up, staggered into the bedroom. She threw on her clothes. She had to get out of here.

  There was no time for shock.

  No time for fear.

  No time for self pity.

  Amonite would be getting in touch with Rudolph soon. She’d worry about his lack of response. She’d come back and go hunting for Lucia.

  Lucia went back into the lounge and grabbed the knife. She dropped it into her bag, along with all the other bits and pieces she’d tipped out earlier. She found the keys under the coffee table, but couldn’t find her phone anywhere. She went into the kitchen and downed a large glass of water. She grabbed the bread and cheese and put it into her bag. She pulled a sheet from the bed and draped it over Joanna’s body, hardly daring look at her disfigured face. It was her fault Joanna had died. Her fault she’d been tortured.

  Everything was her fault.

  She left the apartment, glimpsing a frightened face peering through a crack in the neighbour’s door, which quickly shut.

  She needed to find a safe place to recover, make contact with Nathan, and plan the next move.

  Chapter 75

  Bogotá, Colombia

  15 April, 2011

  Lucia stepped through the hotel’s lobby without looking at the receptionist or the doorman. Her legs shook as she walked briskly down the street without knowing where she was going. Her head was reeling. Rudolph’s crumpled, bloody face was stuck in her mind’s eye. She’d never killed anyone before, although she’d seen enough dead bodies, mainly friends and family murdered in the drugs war.

  But Rudolph had tried to kill her. She had to remember that. It had been him or her. She couldn’t let herself feel bad about it, or she’d never recover.

  She turned the corner and crossed the road without checking. A car beeped its horn and skidded to a stop barely fifty centimetres from her. The driver rolled down the window and shouted obscenities at her. She ignored him and kept walking.

  After twenty minutes or so, she stopped and looked around. Had anybody been following her? Probably not. They’d have stopped her by now. She sat down at the terrace of a cafe and ordered a coffee. She tried breathing slowly, feeling the air enter her lungs, trying to relax her arms and legs and calm her mind. It was no use. Her thoughts were in too much turmoil.

  She downed the coffee, left a bank note, a
nd walked off. She turned a few corners until she reached a road lined with cheap hotels. She entered the first one and booked herself into a single room for the night. She lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Images of Rudolph and Joanna’s corpses flashed through her mind. Her body ached with bruises and cuts. Her lips trembled and her breathing was shallow and fast.