Cheap Thrills (6 Thrilling reads) (56 page)

Twenty Six

‘Hey you! Wake up, your safe now,’ Roxanne says as she tries to jolt the girl on the cell floor awake. She’d been by the girl’s side for the last hour or so. The girl hadn’t moved much but she had moved enough for Roxanne to realise that she was alive and in a deep sleep, most likely a forced sleep that involved narcotics of some sort. The girl’s eyes kept flickering under her eyelids. The lucid movement made Roxanne edgy. She didn’t want the girl to stop breathing. In her mind, she had convinced herself that the girl wouldn’t make it, and now that she had made it, she was utterly convinced that the girl would die of an overdose. It’s safe to say that Roxanne didn’t believe in luck, for it wasn’t a very lucky four years that she had been having. She was certain that any good that could possibly happen in her current dismal situation would be overshadowed by the inevitable bad that would follow.  Suddenly the girl’s eyes flicker open. The whites of her eyes lighten up as the many veins surrounding her dilated pupils bulge into focus. She slowly sits up and looks around the prison cell. She finally glances at Roxanne, who by now is more than glad to see her. The friendly look from Roxanne and the seriously scary surroundings counteract each other and confuse the young girl.

‘Hey there!
’

The girl looks on still in confusion.

‘Yes….Where am I?’

Roxanne shakes her head.

‘I don’t know. I was captured and kidnaped four years ago. I’ve been here ever since. He doesn’t let me out, nor will he let you out. If you’re lucky then you will live for a while longer, but if I’m realistic about the situation, then you’re more than likely going to die down here.’

Roxanne wanted to get maximum effect regarding the shock the girl would be in. She needed the girl to be scared for her life, that way, when she told the girl that she had a plan, she would more than likely be up for getting out of the dungeon they found themselves in.

‘I doubt he would kill me,’ the girl finally says.

Roxanne looks on in dismay, alarmed at the clear sound of confidence in her voice.

‘Why not?’ Roxanne finally asks.

‘I’m far too valuable.’

‘Okay….what makes you think that?’ Asks Roxanne

‘My dad’s the Mayor. I’m sure he would want to trade me for something, most likely money. He pretty much must know that I am the Mayor’s daughter, seeing that he hijacked the convoy of limos that were taking me and my dad to a lunch. He beat my dad up and then let him go, telling him that he would be in contact.
He took me and now here I am.’

‘What do you mean he hijacked a convoy of limos? He’s just one guy. He couldn’t have managed to take on everyone.’

The girl smiles.

‘It wasn’t just him, sure he was the leader, but there were plenty of men by his side. Over twenty guys at least, all in suits. They all had their own limos, so it was pure confusion when it happened. The armed guards that were
escorting us didn’t know which limo was which, and by the time they realised what was happening, it was too late. Me and my dad were riding in the back of a speeding limo, heading towards the train tracks. The car stopped, and my dad was thrown out. He was given a piece of paper with a number on it and then attacked. He was kicked and punched. Then one of the goons dropped a red rose on my dad’s lifeless body.’

‘So your Dad is dead?’

‘Nah, he was just beaten up. They kicked and punched him a few times. It’s like they wanted him to know who they were and what they wanted. Besides from that, he would have been found in a matter of minutes. He has one of those government V.I.P trackers on his ankle. They all wear them when they go out, just in case something like this happens.’

Roxanne stares at the unflinching nerve of the girl and finally gets to the point.

‘I can get you out of here.’

Twenty Seven

Mullins wa
kes up to a burning sensation on his legs. He can smell the searing heat coming off his body. He can feel the shattering pain that’s bouncing off his bones. He finally screams, letting out a tremendous tirade of anguish and pain.

‘What the fuck are you doing to me?’

The pain continues to intensify. The numbing sensation in his head throbs as his eyes feel like they are about to burst through his skull. The only thing he can do is shut his eyelids tightly, trying to avoid eye contact with his adversaries. He can hear their footsteps on the cold basement floor. The pitter-patter of violent feet surrounds him. They scatter around him like prey surrounding their kill. Each step grows ever more menacing in his mind as he feels the scorching pain once more. He can’t bear to keep his eyes shut anymore. He opens them and sees his worst nightmare. The Italian man smiles at him. His eyes pierce through the protective goggles he’s wearing. He pushes them up, pulling the strap behind his ears as the goggles rest between his hair and forehead. The Italian man brushes the sweat off his brow and puts the goggles back on. The sound of the strap hitting the skin behind his ears jolts Mullins into a panic. The next sound frightens him even more. The Italian man flicks the switch on the
flamethrower
. It hisses as it sucks in the air. He points the nozzle at Mullins’s scorched feet. Mullins tries to move, but the burnt in fabric of his trousers are sticking him to the floor. He knows that this may be his last couple of minutes on earth. He looks down at his legs; he can see the extent of the damage. He’s sure that one more gust of fire aimed at his legs will render them ever useless. He knows the two men in the basement know this. They are toying with the Detective. They want Mullins to fear for his life. They want him to question whether he will walk again.

‘This may hurt a little,’ The Italian man says as he flicks the trigger on. The flames engulf the floor next to Mullins. He can feel the heat coming off the grainy concrete surface. The Italian man starts to aim higher, every second inchin
g his way closer to the downed Detective.

‘Fuck it, he isn’t going to tell us what we want,’ the other man says as he approaches the flamethrower wielding Italian man.

‘So what? We will just need to
MAKE
him say
something
’

The man whispers something into the Italian man’s ear. The look of disappointment is evident on the small man’s face as he drops the flamethrower on the floor carelessly.

‘Fucking watch it man, you could set us on fire with that thing.’

‘
That’s the idea
. Fucking Antonio must think we are going soft or something. I would never dream of going half and half with these things. What’s the point in torching some guy’s legs only to stop before we get to the good bit?’

The Italian man takes his goggles off and throws them over his shoulder; much like a chef would throw
salt
over his shoulder. He bends down and grabs Mullins by the hair once again.

‘You got lucky cop! If it wasn’t for the
understanding and compassion of the Boston Mafia, you wouldn’t be walking again. You’d have some charred stumps to hobble on for the rest of your life. Some skin graft will take care of that burn you got there. I’m sure you will be just fine. Taking into account the factor of us letting you go that is. We still have a lot of toys we can play with in here. I can assure you we are going to have a lot of fun!’

Twenty Eight

‘Are you telling me that we can’t get in contact with Detective Mullins?’

‘We’ve tried Frank, but it seems as if his radio is down,’ says Shaw as he eyes Frank’s aggressive stance. He knows what Frank is like when angry after him being on the wrong side of the Detective a few times.

‘Can’t we pinpoint his location using the GPS in the two way radio?’

‘We already have. He’s still in Humphries cleaning building downtown.’

Frank sits down on the chair facing Shaw’s desk. He takes out a cigarette and lights it up. He gives Shaw an intense but respectful look.

‘Let’s go in and get him,’ Frank says.

Shaw smiles as he too lights up a cigarette.

‘Already working on that. The new DA has given us a warrant. All we need is a team.’

‘Put me on point,’ says Frank abruptly.

‘Are you sure you’re up for this?’

‘Look I’m over
my
brother’s death
. There was nothing you could have done. I’m ready to go back in the field.’

‘What about the Christmas box case?’

‘They are linked Sir that I am sure of.’

‘How do you work that one out Frank?’

‘I just know it Chief. Trust me on this one.’

Shaw inhales a large drag of his cigarette. He taps the ash into the ashtray and looks back up at Frank.

‘Get ready then. Meet the others in the parking lot. Get a flak jacket and some heavy weaponry. We are going in strong. This is strictly
off the radar
. We can’t let them know we are coming. These bastards have police scanners.’

‘No problem Sir. I’m sure they won’t even suspect a thing.’

Shaw grins at Frank and takes another toke of his cigarette.

‘Even if they do laddie
,that won’t stop the wrath of Boston’s finest crashing down their walls and cuffing every motherfucker in the building!’

Twenty Nine

Diary entry number Seventy Eight

Dated 25th of December 2012

The time has finally come. It is the day after my reckoning, a mere twenty four hours after all my hard work was pressed upon the eyes of the world. Now these eyes bore deep into my soul. They claim that I am a mad man, but they do not know of my life. They do not know of the pain and suffering you have caused me. It is time for them to know the full extent of my power and witness the cleansing of this putrid city. They think they can stop me, but they are wrong. You can’t stop fate. You can’t stop the inevitable. For when it’s time for the message to end, so will the heritage of this city. Boston will always be known for the love sto
ry between me and you. Will they won’t they? That is the question. I guess people will have to see for themselves. I can assure you I will get my own way eventually, even if I have to slay a hundred more to make my point heard…
And they will hear me
.

Eli

Thirty

‘What do you mean you can get me out of here?’

Roxanne puts her hand over the girl’s mouth.

‘Not so loud. Do you want to advertise our escape to the whole world?’

The girl shakes her head as Roxanne lets her grip go, the girl breaths in a sigh of relief.

‘So what’s the plan?’ The girl asks as she looks around the tightly spaced cell.

‘The
Machete Man
sits outside of the cell on a nightly basis. He practically sleeps on the stool. He keeps guard near our cell. He can overlook all of the cells from that spot. Sometimes he falls asleep. He likes to drink a lot. What I need you to do is cause a lot of fuss. He doesn’t like people making noise. He gets irritated easily. He will come into the cell and try and shut you up by force. Meanwhile, I’ll pretend I’m asleep, and when he enters to give you a beating, I’ll stab this into his neck,’ Roxanne says as she palms a crude makeshift shank.

‘
Machete Man
?’

Roxanne shakes her head in annoyance.

‘Yes…That’s his name.’

The girl laughs.

‘Says who?’

‘I don’t know
, it’s just what I call him. What does it matter anyway?’

‘It doesn’t, it just seems a bit, I don’t know,
80’s B movie
if you ask me.’

‘Well I wasn’t asking you.’

‘Fine.’

‘Good.’

The girl looks around the cell once more.

‘So when are we going to do this?’

‘When he comes out of the killing room.’

The girl smiles at Roxanne.

‘The Killing room?...Never mind.’

Suddenly the Killing room door opens, and the Machete Man stumbles out. He’s holding a bottle of rum as he makes his way towards the stool next to the girl’s cell. He peers into the cell and waves candidly.

‘I hope you two are getting along well,’ he mutters as he sits down next to the cell.  The two girls smile at each other as he starts to sing loudly in his chair.

‘Not quite yet. We want him to get as drunk as possible. The guy’s a brick house after all,’ Roxanne whispers.

‘Oh this is going to be fun,’ the girl says quietly.

Roxanne gives the giddy girl a sideward look.

‘This isn’t a game. He’s dang
erous. We need to be careful,’ whispers Roxanne

‘I know. Let’s just get this over and done with.’

Thirty One

Humphries is still in the back of his limo uninterested in the traffic and reeling in anger. He’s fed up of the excuses that his driver has been th
rowing at him. He’s not stupid nor was he born yesterday. He recognises the tall lawyers building the second time round. He’s clocked the building four times now. That’s four times they have driven around the same road. He suspects them of something, and he is right, but he has to play his cool. It could be a diversion. They could be driving him around to distract him from something. They could also be driving him around because they are expecting something to happen. It could be many things. An assassination, a job they are doing behind his back or it could be the simple fact that they may be truly lost. The window between the driver and him is playing with his mind. Any second now he is expecting the window to come down, and a double barrel shotgun to blast him to pieces. Paranoia has always been a factor in the mental stability of Humphries. Being like that has saved his life on many an occasion. It’s a gut feeling he feels on a regular basis. He’s got that feeling now. He doesn’t know quite what to do. When he does know is that he will react to it and get himself out of trouble.

The problem is he doesn’t know why he’s being driven around in circles. He trusts the driver and most of all, he trusts his right hand man Antonio. They have not shown any signs of cracks or distrusting characteristics since being employed by him. One thing he does know is his men will stand by him till the end, so it can’t be the driver or
Antonio can it
?

He finally has enough. He taps on the window with his ring finger. The brash clanging sound of his jewellery echoes off the glass. After a few seconds of silence, the window comes down. Antonio sticks his head out to be greeted with a 9mm to his face. The gun is being held by his b
oss, Humphries. Antonio’s face goes pale white as he stares at the cold dark barrel of the gun. His boss’s fierce stare is as prominent as the look of dismay in Antonio’s eyes.

‘Stop the fucking car…NOW!’ screams Humphries.

The driver pops his head around to see the commotion unfold in front of him. He hits the breaks hard. The car comes to a screeching stop. Humphries signals Antonio out of the car. As he complies, Humphries lets himself out of the limo. They both exit the car at the same time. The limo is idle in a backstreet, adjacent to the Chinese restaurant downtown. Humphries picked this section of the road because he knew this would be the most secluded. One thing about driving around in circles is the fact that you can plan something like this out pretty easily. He planned this down to a tee. Antonio’s expression looks as if he has been beaten. As if his boss has won. This intrigues Humphries. He knew something was amiss, but this is definitely intriguing indeed. He takes a gamble with his next words as he aims the 9mm at Antonio. The driver remains stone cold still at the front, not daring to look at his gun wielding boss.

‘So you thought you could get away with it?’ Says Humphries as he tries to crack this mysterious case of diversion.

Antonio smiles.

‘How long have you known?’

‘Long enough Antonio…How could you? After everything I’ve done for you and your family?’

Humphries is still fishing, He doesn’t have a clue what Antonio is on about, but he’s sure he can trick him into enlightening him.

‘That’s just typical of you isn’t it? You think that this is only about you…Well it isn’t Humphries. This is about the whole Boston family. We need change and you are quite frankly not fit to run this syndicate anymore. That’s why I got the girls kidnaped, and that’s why their bodies are scattered around the bay in Christmas boxes.’

Humphries couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. His right hand man was admitting to kidnapping the families’ trafficked workers and selling them on. He tho
ught that this was a hit on him not a confession of stolen property. After all the time he had spent consoling in Antonio about how much these girls meant to him and how much they needed to find the culprit, he felt that his most trusted member had betrayed him.

‘Those girls were my property. I bought them out of the sex trade to work in our many businesses.
To give them a better life and you go and sell them on?’

‘A better life? They are whores; they don’t deserve a better life. We would be los
ing money on them. You’re crazy buying them for insane amounts of cash only so you could play the knight in shining armour and rescue them, feed them… and house them? What are you, the welfare office?’

‘What I do with my money is my business.’

Antonio smiles as his boss’s hand starts to tremble while holding the gun.

‘And to think you weren’t going to sleep with them….all that money and not even a fucking blowjob. I guess now they have been well and truly fucked. I was sure to give a few of them a nice fuck before cutting their mangy heads off!’

‘You fucking no good son of a bitch. I’ll make sure you pay for this Antonio.’

Humphries pulls back the hammer on his 9mm.

‘Where are the rest of them?’ he asks

‘They are down the old warehouse in t
he sewer system where we used to hide the coke. Darrel has them down there. He’s the one who bought them off me. I told him he could use the warehouse seeing we don’t use it anymore, plus you wouldn’t have suspected a goddamn thing seeing that you’re on the good old straight and narrow now.’

Humphries breaks a gold filled smile at his associate. He swings his arm and pistol whips Antonio in the head. Antonio hits the ground hard. Humphries turns around and looks at the driver of the car who’s still staring straight at the windshield.

‘You can look you know,’ Says Humphries as he puts his pistol away.

The driver cautiously turns his head to look at his boss.

‘I didn’t know anything about that Sir,’ says the driver

Humphries smiles.

‘What did you know about then?’

‘Well sir, the reason we were goi
ng around in circles is because Antonio told me that they had a hostage back at the depot. He didn’t want you to find out because he thought you would overreact.’

‘A hostage?’

‘Yeah some cop.’

Humphries shakes his head.

‘Fuck sake. Help me get this piece of shit in the car.’

Suddenly Humphries cell goes off. He reaches into his pocket and pulls it out.

‘Hello?’

Theirs a long silence as Humphries shakes his head and grunts. He finally says something.

‘Don’t worry, I have it under control. Your daughter will be found sir…Okay…yep…speak to you soon.’

He turns to the driver who’s just finished stuffing the unconscious body of Antonio in the trunk.

‘The back seat would have done…anyway, that was the Mayor. His daughter was taken, and he was beaten up not more than two hours ago. He swears he saw a few of my men down there. I have assured him that I have it under control. I think it’s best if we make our way down to the depot. This shit needs to be taken care of.’