The Red Cobra (James Ryker #1)

Giorgi paused as though building up to answering the question.

‘She killed my son,’ he said, finally betraying emotion; hurt, sadness. But it didn’t last long. This was a man filled with hate and conceit. ‘My only son – Alex. She suffocated him in the middle of the night at a home for wounded war veterans. He was a cripple; he had no way to defend himself against an attack like that. He was my only blood in this world. She took everything from me.’

‘But Kim Walker wasn’t the Red Cobra.’

‘It seems not.’

‘I came here, to Spain, to find the Red Cobra,’ Ryker said. ‘To kill her.’

Giorgi paused.

‘So you could say we’re on the same team,’ Ryker added. ‘I can help you catch her.’

‘No, Ryker. You really can’t.’

Ryker was distracted by footsteps. He looked over and saw Sergei coming back into the room. He was dressed but now had a full-length plastic apron covering his front. In his hand was a power drill, a four-inch silver drill-bit protruding from the end. Ryker’s heart thudded.

Sergei moved to the side of the room and picked up an electrical extension cable. He casually walked back toward Ryker as he unreeled the cable, then he plugged in the drill and tested it. The drill-bit whizzed round in a blur, the small motor giving out a loud high-pitched whine.

‘Techniques such as this have been used since medieval times,’ Giorgi said matter-of-factly. ‘The prisoner would be hung upside down, much like you. The rush of blood to the brain feeds it with oxygen, which helps to keep you alert. Awake. The prisoner was interrogated. Two men would begin to saw at the groin using a hand saw, four feet long. Slowly they’d cut through the victim, working towards the head. Very effective, I’m sure you’d agree. Very bloody. But not very long lasting.’

Sergei moved forward with the drill. Ryker’s heart drummed faster still. He bucked his body, but there was nothing he could do.

‘The drill is much better,’ Giorgi said. ‘Less blood. Less mess. More time to talk.’

One of the goons stepped forward, grabbed a knife from a sheath on his waistband, and slashed at the rope shackling Ryker’s wrists together. Ryker’s arms fell down by his head. No chance for relief though. The goons promptly took hold of an arm each, giving Ryker no opportunity of freeing himself despite his flailing attempts. The goon on the left forced open Ryker’s left hand and held it steady.

‘I’ve found this to be a very effective way of finding out what we need to know,’ Giorgi said. ‘We start with the hands. Then the feet. Then elbows, knees. Normally by that point we have to change the drill-bit. The bones in the knees are particularly hard and troublesome. After that, though, the rest is easy.’

Sergei pressed on the drill’s trigger again. Ryker focused on the blurring drill-bit as it came closer and closer to the palm of his hand.

Then Sergei stopped. He held his hands steady. The tip of the blurring drill was just a quarter of an inch from Ryker’s skin. Ryker’s whole body, every single muscle, was tense, his teeth gritted. With the blood rushing around him so fast, he felt faint.

Sergei looked over to his master, who gave the slightest of nods. Then Sergei pushed the drill forward.

The drill-bit tore through Ryker’s hand and he let out a harrowing scream. The metal eased through and poked out the other side, blood and flesh splashing outwards. Sergei released the trigger and the drill rolled to a stop with lumps of dripping skin and flesh hanging from the end. Then he pressed the button to reverse the rotation and pulled on the trigger again, a wicked grin on his face.

Ryker’s scream heightened further as the drill-bit began rotating back and Sergei pulled the tool away, taking more bone and tissue with it.

When the drill was free of Ryker’s hand, the goon let go of Ryker’s arm. It flopped uselessly by his head. The pain was consuming him. In that moment, Ryker wished he was still the man who could not feel. The robot who’d worked for the JIA for so many years. That man felt no pain. He didn't even recognise the concept. But Ryker did, and the pain was too much.

Ryker’s eyes focused on the drill that was dripping with his blood. Then on Sergei, his face smeared red. Still smiling.

‘Mr Ryker,’ Giorgi said. ‘Please think very hard about your answers this time, because I won’t ask these questions again. Who do you work for? And why are you here?’

Ryker didn’t say a word. Not because he was holding out but because he was too nauseous with pain. Sergei moved across Ryker. Giorgi gave another nod and the drill started up once more. Ryker closed his eyes and clamped down his jaw so hard it felt like his teeth would shatter. He willed something to happen. He wasn’t a religious man; he’d seen too many horrors in his life to believe there was a god. Yet he was praying now. Praying for something, anything to intervene.

And it felt like his prayer had been answered when he heard an unexpected clunking noise.

He opened his eyes. Darkness. The lights had been switched off.

Ryker’s arm was suddenly freed by the goon who’d been holding it. He heard surprised shouting from Sergei and the men. Movement. Footsteps.

Even in the darkness, Ryker knew what was happening.

The Red Cobra.





CHAPTER 59


Ryker’s body jolted when he heard a gargling scream from a man. One of the goons? The noise was close, yards away, Ryker thought. Then a gunshot rang out. The flash from the muzzle brought the room into view for a split second.

Ryker could have sworn he saw the sweeping shadow of the Red Cobra.

Another scream. A succession of gunshots, the flashes of fire from the guns like strobe lighting.

Panicked shouting. Footsteps. More gunshots. More flashes of light...

Then silence and total darkness once more.

After a few seconds, Ryker realised he was holding his breath and he slowly exhaled, straining for any noise from within the blackened room. He took a sharp inhale of breath and held it in again, feeling the beating of his heart getting faster.

‘Aren’t you going to thank me?’ she said after a few more moments of silence. Her voice was close by.

Ryker said nothing.

A second later, there was a slicing noise and Ryker’s body suddenly tumbled to the ground. He landed head first and his back twisted and compressed as the rest of him came down on top. He lay in an uncomfortable heap on the floor for a few seconds as he tried to regain his composure.

The lights flicked back on. Ryker squinted as his eyes got used to the sudden intrusion of brightness. He jumped back when he realised he was staring into the wide-open eyes of one of the goons, a yard away from him. The guy was dead. No doubt about it.

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