Chapter 10
“You’re about ten seconds away from having a bullet in your head,” Cristian seethed as he spoke to the man tied to the chair.
“The Prizrak will come for you. I not worry about lowly people like you,” he replied in his thick Russian accent. Dmitri had placed his men outside Jorge’s winery, telling Matias whoever they had there, was worth something.
Cristian pulled a pair of pliers from the cabinet. “You say that now, but as I take a finger for every word out of your mouth that doesn’t give us something, you may change your tune.”
The man jerked his body away from Cristian, causing the chair legs to scrape across the floor.
“Ah ah. David,” Cristian called out to one of the men, beckoning him closer. “come hold this fucker’s chair still.”
David grabbed the wooden frame and held him in place. Matias leaned down, putting his face close to their captive’s. “Who is Jorge holding on the property?”
“Poshel na khuy.” He spat into Matias’ face.
Matias backhanded him across his cheek, nearly knocking him to the ground, but David held the chair firm. He turned to Cristian and nodded. “Fuck you, you say? Take one off.”
Cristian wrestled the man, tugging his hand toward him. Holding his arm in place, Cristian clamped the pliers around the meaty digit. The man screamed out in what Matias assumed was Russian.
“I’ll ask you again. Who is Jorge holding at his property?”
“Poshel na khuy,” he spoke again. “I will die before I speak.”
“You realize I will kill you. I don’t care that you’re Dmitri’s man.
I will gut you and deliver you to his doorstep in pieces.
” Matias jerked his head at Cristian. “He enjoys this far more than I do. Are you sure having your fingers removed is worth protecting Jorge or Dmitri? Because if it is, he won’t stop at your fingers.
He’ll take that blade on the table.” Matias glanced toward the long knife laying on the wooden surface.
The man’s eyes followed his and stared at the silver glinting in the light.
“And cut off your cock. I don’t have time to play back and forth with you, motherfucker.
If someone was in that crate, I need to know who it was.
” He grabbed the man’s hair and jerked his head backward. “Tell me what I want to know.”
The man pursed his lips, refusing to speak. Matias glanced at the men in the room. “This piece of shit is useless. Cristian,” Matias released his hold, walking toward the table where he picked up the blade. “Let’s send Jorge a clear message. He’s fucked with the wrong family in Chile.”
Cristian watched as Matias pushed the blade into the man’s shoulder and twisted the handle. He drove the blade deeper into his flesh, causing the man to wail. “You’ll be a message. One that reminds Jorge why we’re in charge.”
Matias leaned into the man’s body, pushing the knife through his meaty flesh. The blade cut through muscle and scraped against bone until his arm was hanging lifelessly beside him, barely attached to his shoulder.
“Ready to talk now?”
“I… I…” the man’s Russian accent was thick as he mumbled incoherently to the group of men standing around him. “I don’t know. All I know is he is from an important family.”
“Fuck,” Bastian mumbled.
“What do you mean, important family?”
“Someone… someone Ivanov can use to manipulate.” His voice weakened and his eyes closed.
“No. Wake up.” Matias slapped him across the face. “You don’t get to pass out on me.” He withdrew the knife and jammed it into his gut, causing the man to jerk his eyes open and moan. “Who is it?” Matias gritted out through a clenched jaw.
“All I know…” he heaved a deep breath before answering. “He comes from America.”
Matias stepped back from the chair. The knife made a suctioning sound as it slipped out from his gut. Blood splattered across Matias’s pants and dripped onto the floor.
“Take this motherfucker and dump him on Jorge’s steps. I want him to know we’re coming for him.”
“He said it was someone from America. Who the fuck is this idiot holding and why?” Bastian kicked the bloodied blade across the cement floor. “Pedro, Marco,” he called out to the two men standing behind the man. “Get a tarp and wrap him in it. I don’t want him bleeding inside your SUV.”
“Are you going to finish him?” Cristian looked at the tattered man in question.
“No. I want him to tell Jorge it was me who did this right before he takes his last breath. Pedro, make sure you drive slowly. I want him on the brink of death right before you toss him out.”
“You got it, Sir.”
“Tomorrow we take these fuckers down. I’m done sitting back and waiting.” Matias wiped his hands down his pants, smearing the blood covering his skin across the fabric. “I’m going home to wash this scum off me. We will meet here in the morning to plan. Be ready. It’s going to get messy.”