Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 109286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
“We do not have the manpower to have a shootout with a U.S. government contractor who provides security services to the embassy,” Mendoza admits grimly. “I’ve lost one of my own to him. We’ve sent men in to find our lost dove, but they’ve come up empty. Where the girls are stored, I do not know. We’ve not acted because of his military ties but . . .”
“It’s time to take him down,” I declare, and Mendoza gives me a short nod. Mendoza’s power is in question here. Hudson must go.
“Perhaps we do not need the manpower,” Petrovich suggests. “We simply need to get inside, Daniel and I. From there, we can extricate one woman and one man.”
“Vasily is right. Finding Naomi in is our biggest challenge. We can fight our way out.”
“What do you know of Hudson, then?” Mendoza asks.
“He is a wealthy U.S. military contractor with a thing for North American blondes. Likely has control over the Emperor.”
At this Mendoza starts. “The Emperor? Of the Emperor’s Palace?”
Petrovich nods stiffly. “He is mine.”
I try not to hit him. Naomi belongs to herself. To the Hays family. Not to some Russian madman.
Mendoza whistles. “He must be making a fortune with all the illegal money he’s moving through that network.”
“I am not interested in the money,” Petrovich says. “I need the expertise.”
“We need more information,” I interject. I’m not a fan of hearing Naomi being referred to as a man, especially one that Petrovich wants. “We don’t have the time.”
Mendoza nods and then reaches for the phone on his desk. He is too far away for us to hear even though I’m straining. We all are.
“What’s he saying?” Regan asks. The Portuguese is too faint and rapid for me to make out.
“Not sure, but he mentioned the consulate.”
When Mendoza returns to us, he says, “I’m having someone come who may be able to provide some insight. Until then, let’s have something to eat.”
A spread of fresh fruits, meats, and cheeses is set out buffet-style in another room, one that faces the large gravel area and the burn marks.
“What have you got going on here?” I ask Mendoza as we stand in front of the large windows.
“Security, Daniel.”
“I’ve heard that you were doing freelance work after you separated from the army.”
“I’ve heard the same about you.”
“My sister was kidnapped. I had to find her. Making money killing bad guys while trying to gather information seemed like a bonus,” I reply.
“And for me, I need money to build my army here.” He taps the window. A throng of young kids have come to the top of the hill, and they move down the gravel expanse toward a grassy field I didn’t see initially. “These people are my family. Did you know that the Roman Empire was so powerful that the citizens could walk throughout the land unmolested? It was known that even the least of the citizens was so important to the empire that if even one was maimed, the entire beast would fall upon the violator’s head. I want that for my people. I want for them to walk through any street in Brazil or Africa or the United States and for people to know that if one of mine is hurt, the entire hand of God will rain vengeance upon them and their family. Hudson is a blot on our record, and this is a perfect opportunity for me to make a show of power. So I’ll help you, and then someday you can return the favor.”
“No problem.” Madmen and their compounds. I need to get me one of those.
A scuffle outside draws my attention to the front doors. The soccer game has stopped, and the children stand in a loose line as a man is brought to the field. He is strapped down onto the granite slab. Many of the children disperse but a few older ones remain.
“Regan,” Mendoza calls out. “We need an identification.”
We troop out into the sun toward the granite altar. When we reach it, the man is securely tied spread-eagle on the slab. He is completely naked, and there is a leash around his dick, pulling it downward between his legs.
“It’s Gomes,” Regan says in a gasp.
Mendoza nods at one of his soldiers who holds a whiplike object in his hand. “Positive ID confirmed.” At the nod, the whip sails out and lands with a snap right between Gomes’s legs. Petrovich and I grimace while everyone else stands there like this is any other Saturday. Gomes’s screams ring out in the courtyard, scaring up birds and other small animals in the foliage. With a backward glance, I note that the five or so kids left on the soccer field are still motionless, as if they are in class learning exactly how to run a mercenary empire.
“Ask your questions,” Mendoza orders. Regan and Petrovich look to me. Scratching my head, I lean over—not too close, because I don’t want the whip to accidentally strike me in the balls.