Some kind of manufacturing used to be done here. This was a control room and foreman’s booth. Santiago gestures for me to sit down in one of three chairs. Karen sits and I lower Kelly to the chair next to mine and hold their hands.
Santiago sits down opposite us, holding his gun in his hands. He looks at the thugs.
“You two, go slop your pigs. Inform your masters I am ready and will be in touch when the quarry arrives. Now get out.”
They leave, pulling the door shut behind them.
“Forgive me the unpleasantness. Santiago de la Rosa is not slighted by some jumped-up thug. I have a reputation to uphold.” He sighs. “Now I have an important question I must ask you, before the festivities begin. Which of your daughters do you love the most?”
19
Quentin
Dale might have left me enough hardware to overthrow the Chilean government, but even if I arm up as a one-man army I can’t take it with me. I could drive straight to the fourth weapons cache he told me to find, or head for the rendezvous with the crazy bitch who tried to strangle me last week.
I know Santiago. He’s a man of his word, if I go to the rendezvous, I’ll be safe enough until they take me wherever it is they plan to torture and kill Rose. I’ll never get the details out of that Lily maniac; last week you could have tortured me to death before I’d give up Santiago. It’s just not done.
Things are different now. I’m going to kill him myself.
The question is, how? He’s got me. I’ll be going to an unknown location with no weapons while my enemy holds three valuable hostages. He’s a man of his word, alright. He won’t hurt me or them until he has us all together, so he can watch us unwind one strand at a time. That’s what he does. He feeds on misery.
I let them go and the monster got them. I choke the wheel harder. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I never should have talked to Rose. Whatever good I deluded myself into thinking I brought into their lives, it wasn’t worth this. God. They’ll die hating me.
Quentin, you selfish fuck.
Dale said he left me a couple of presents. They had better be something good. I have time. The fun won’t start without me. If I just try to bowl myself right down the middle of the problem I’ll get the girls killed. I can’t let that happen.
I swing off the highway and drive toward Dale’s weapons cache. This had better be worth my time.
Using a key I took from his office, which must have been blown to smithereens by now, I open the storage locker door and roll it up. It hasn’t been opened for a while; leaves and spiderwebs cling to the bottom.
This locker is more of a garage, big enough to house a car. Everything is covered with dusty drop cloths that throw up curtains of grime when I yank them off. It’s all standard stuff, crates of weapons. No help. I can pack it all in the Impala’s trunk and never get it anywhere near Santiago.
Damn it, Dale, tell me you had something.
Nothing, just weapons and a laptop. No time. I need to meet up with the crazy bitch who’s going to drive me to my torture appointment.
Fuck.
It’s not a long drive from the cache. I don’t care if I’m being followed anymore, although it would be a little ironic if some other assassin took me out and claimed the bounty on my head before Santiago could get to me. The sick bastard would probably find that amusing.
I’m to meet this woman in public at a café in the Old City, probably to make sure I don’t attack her. Santiago thinks everyone is like him, a totally sick fuck without the slightest hint of scruples. I don’t hurt women. I have rules.
He doesn’t.
What the hell. I park the Impala in a garage so she won’t get towed (for a while, anyway; I’m probably not coming back to her alive) and walk down to the corner of Third and Market where there’s this pizza place.
Crazy Bitch Lily is sitting at a table in the corner, eating a slice of pepperoni pizza. I walk in, sit down at the cast-iron table, and give her the death stare.
“Hello,” she says.
“I can see you’re all choked up.”
“Been stewing on that one a while, I see.”
“Better than dumping your drink in your lap and saying, ‘Ice to see you.’ I considered that one.”
She snorts. “I’m sure you did.”
“Are you going to sit here and watch me squirm or can we go get me tortured to death now? I want to get this over with.”
“Want some pizza?”
I glance down at the mostly uneaten pie on the table before me.
Lily shrugs. “I’m not going to poison you. Santiago wants you for himself.”
“Kinky,” I declare, and take a slice of pizza.
“You’re in a weird position,” she says, chewing. “You want to throw all sorts of threats at me about your woman, but you can’t because I’m a woman.”
“That’s right, I won’t hurt you.”
“Stupid.”
“Yeah.” I chew with my mouth open. “That’s me. We gonna get a beer or get this over with?”
“Let’s go,” she says, rising. “You understand what happens if you bail on me.”
“Yeah, I understand.”