“Fear does not equate to love and respect. I know this too well. My own father fears me, but any love and respect he had for me died after my kidnapping.”
“I tried to protect you from the warlord.”
“At twelve years old, my future was filled with endless possibilities. After nine months in the jungle, my life was irrevocably altered. My father could barely stand to look at me; my sister treated me like a broken doll. You took everything that mattered from me.” Nikos kicked the tire that rested beside a nearby acacia tree. “Stop here.”
“You’re making a mistake.” The General’s voice faltered as he took in the tire and the gas can perched beside it. Necklacing was a horrific way to die.
“I can smell the fear on your skin, a wonderful change from the stench of oil I’ve been carrying around with me since you first locked me up.” Nikos flashed on the smelly hood and the General’s shed. “Now smoke, oil, and gasoline will fill your last breath.”
Keeping the gun trained on the giant, Nikos filled the tire with gasoline. He stepped back, slipped the Glock into his waistband, and reached down to lift the tire with both hands.
The General raised both arms above his head, flaring his elbows, thrusting his hands downward into his own gut. Snap. The intense force ripped through the locking mechanism on the zip ties and cut bloody furrows into his wrists.
The giant barreled toward him. Arms wrapped around the tire, Nikos had only one option. He smashed the tire into the bigger man. Gasoline splashed, soaking them both, burning Nikos’s eyes.
The General rallied, channeling his considerable weight into pushing the tire. Nikos tried to stand his ground, but the man outweighed him by at least sixty pounds. His feet slid along the muddy earth as he started to lose the pushing match.
He ducked, letting the tire sail over his head, and stomped on the General’s right foot, cracking metatarsals. The giant grunted, encircling Nikos with his massive arms in a bear hug. Nikos tried to twist away, but the General was surprisingly quick—and strong. He squeezed like a giant boa constrictor, forcing the air out of his lungs. A couple of Nikos’s ribs cracked, the crunch echoing in his ears.
Sweat and gasoline dripped into Nikos’s eyes, blurring his vision. He blinked, face-to-face with the depths of the General’s fury, then brought his head back and slammed it straight into the big man’s nose. Blood gushed. The giant’s grip loosened enough for Nikos to twist around and bring his knee up into the man’s groin, hard. A groan. The General’s grip faltered. Nikos planted his hands against the man’s colossal chest and broke free.
He sucked in a deep breath. The giant shook his head and came for him again, arms wide. Nikos drew the Glock. Two quick shots, one in each leg. The General collapsed onto the ground, blood darkening his pants. Still he crawled toward Nikos, rage fueling him.
If the bastard wanted more, he’d give it to him.
A sharp kick under the chin snapped the giant into a seated position. The big man wavered, stunned by the blow. Nikos grabbed the tire and thrust it onto the man’s enormous shoulders. He wiped his hand off on his shirt, reached into his pocket, and fingered the lighter. A quick flick, and he tossed the Zippo at the General. Flames ignited in a blaze of orange.
An animal cry, deep and primal, erupted from General Ita Jemwa as fire scorched his skin. Blood soaked his lower extremities, smoke engulfed his tribal scars, flames singed his eyebrows. The stench of charred flesh filled Nikos’s nostrils. He inhaled deeply. There wasn’t a horrible enough death for the man who’d stolen his innocence. This one would have to do.
His cell phone beeped.
Nikos read the text.
Time for his father’s retribution.
Chapter Seventy
Thea crabbed forward in the air-conditioning shaft. A quick right turn, and she paused, hopeful. She turned off the cell’s flashlight to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. Light beckoned at the end of the tunnel. She scrambled toward the vent and fingered the slats, making sure it was real.
They’d been holed up inside the ventilation system for almost an hour, their progress painstakingly slow. She felt like a prisoner seeing daylight for the first time in years.
Ten feet below, an open field and the nearby forest beckoned to her. They’d reached the west side of the hotel, as planned.
Rain splattered on the pavement below. Fresh, moist air piped through the slats, which was a relief, but what she craved most was her true elixir: insulin. She checked her blood sugar on her smartphone: 421 mg/dL. Not good. Her temples throbbed, and she was beginning to feel nauseated.