“It matters not, Claude. I am dead to you now. I…I am glad you are well. You look much older, my cousin, and thin.”
Claude chuckled. “Yes. I had an accident which forced me into a healthier lifestyle. What of you, my dear one. Do you have children?”
Felicia hesitated, glancing up at her now scowling companion. “I had something happen after Paris… which prevented my ever giving birth. I wanted… I mean…” Felicia began to sob. “I’m sorry… my cousin. I cannot-”
“Enough!” Haris El-Amin reached for the iPhone, only to have Nick’s hand snatch his. A second later Haris was on his knees. The bones in his hand began to crackle.
“I do not think you understand the purpose of this call, Haris,” Nick continued in Arabic, unsure at the moment if Felicia was upset because she didn’t want to talk with someone from her past life, or upset that she couldn’t speak plainly.
“Let go of me, dog! I will have Al-Kadi kill you for this outrage!”
“I doubt it.”
“Please!” Felicia clasped her hands together as she dropped the phone in pleading fashion. “Let him go. He will surely beat me to death after you leave if you go any further with this!”
“No… he won’t.” Nick snapped El-Amin’s wrist. When Haris fell forward with a scream, clutching his wrist, Nick stun-gunned him into unconsciousness. He picked up the iPhone as Felicia cringed away from him into Cala’s arms. “Did you hear all that, Claude?”
“Yes! It is as I feared.”
“Here’s Felicia again.” Nick handed Felicia the iPhone again. “You can take off the face covering to speak. No one will harm you again. Are there any others in the house?”
Felicia took off her face covering headdress with shaking hand. “Yes. There are two other women upstairs. One is only twelve.”
“We must repay this man, Muerto,” Cala said. “He needs a good cleaning.”
“I think you may be right.” Nick gestured at Johnny. “See to the others, Johnny. Take Cala with you. Take no chances until the situation is clear.”
“I shall enjoy helping you with the cleaning on this one, Muerto,” Johnny said as he took Cala’s hand. They went upstairs.
“Speak with your cousin, Felicia. Then, we will work out a plan.”
Nick watched the tearful but excited conversation. He cringed at the news she and the two others in El-Amin’s control had gone through female genital mutilation. Thinking about Jean being only a couple years younger than El-Amin’s youngest slave fired the rage he had been holding in check. Felicia handed him the iPhone. Nick stayed watchful with El-Amin.
“Claude said you would handle his…his disappearance. Is that true?”
“Yes. You go upstairs and help my friends with your house companions. I will discuss things with Claude. Do not worry about this butcher. Is there anything special you would like me to do with him?”
Felicia shuddered. “Claude said I could leave this monster to you. That is what I will do. I do not wish to think about him anymore.”
“As you wish. Go on and assure your friends.” Nick waited until she was out of earshot. “I’m here, Claude.”
“Can you help El-Amin turn over everything to Felicia? Clint has been creating an account in a local Bank of America right on Union Street. I’ve already texted you the details. Clint said if you’ll bring the property statements with you, he and Jafar will transfer the title to Felicia with all the papers needed for identity and everything. My wife and I will book a flight to go there immediately to help. I can’t thank you enough for this, Nick.”
“No worries, my friend. I am happy to do it, and so are my cleaning assistants. Guess what? They have a nice cellar here. It will be perfect for discussing property and bank accounts with Haris. Would you like a video moment?”
“No Nick. I leave the creature’s ending in your capable hands. I am sure he will pay for his sins.”
“Yes… he will. Talk at you in a while.”
*
Haris El-Amin awoke groggily, his knees aching from kneeling on the cement floor of what he recognized as his basement. He felt the cold house stanchion at his back. Duct tape was wound around his chest and under his arms. Another winding around his shoulders and chest held him securely, coupled with windings around his forehead. He couldn’t move his legs at all. Haris assumed rightly they were secured to the stanchion too. Some material crackled under him. The two men from earlier walked in front of him with big smiles.
“Hello there, Haris. In reality, I am Dr. Muerto, and this is my assistant, Dr. Kabong. We specialize in a treatment called intestinal cleaning. It’s rather old school but effective. Here’s a demonstration.” The man showed Haris a scalpel while the other man pinched his nostrils, forced a rubber ball in his mouth, and put a strip of duct tape over his mouth. A mirror from his basement was positioned so he could see what was happening. Haris screamed.
*
“Gee, Dr. Kabong, he’s screaming already and I haven’t even started.”