21. Cas
21
Cas
I could see out of the front window a little, and when we pulled up to a warehouse, I tensed in preparation for them to haul me out of the van, but they only threw the van door open, searched me, took my phone, and slammed it shut again. We got onto the highway not long after, and my heart fell, but then I realized we were taking the express lane, and I simultaneously mentally face-palmed and cheered.
It seemed that my kidnappers weren’t at the top of the class in terms of knowing how to evade capture. I could only hope that they would be dumb enough to get caught before we reached Fernandez himself.
I was very certain that I would be seeing him soon if Curly, Moe, and Larry had their way.
We were on the road for a long while, passing three-plus checkpoint after three-plus checkpoint. I imagined Marcus tracking me, and I worried about whether Rishi was okay. I’d seen him go down, but it had looked more like a glancing hit than a solid thunk, and I hoped that meant that he would be okay. I was sure that even if Rishi wasn’t able to come himself, though, he would send Rio.
About three hours had passed since I had been grabbed, and I was becoming annoyingly aware of the need to use the bathroom when I felt the van decelerate as we got off the highway.
I was debating whether I should ask if I could use a bathroom when we stopped — Julio wouldn’t want me making a mess while we talked, would he? — while we drove down some side streets before driving directly into a large, open door. The building slowly darkened as the door slid closed behind the van, and then the men in the van with me got out and pulled the side door open again.
“Hey, so do you have a place for me to take a leak?” I asked cheerily.
Three blank stares met me for a second.
“No? Shame. Look, I know your boss has some really important questions for me, and I just wanna not piss all over him, you know?”
The three of them glanced at one another, then one of them sighed. “If you try anything cute,” the tallest one said in heavily accented English, “you will regret it.”
I looked down at myself in an exaggerated fashion. “Do I look cute to you?”
The tall one growled impatiently, and the three of them hauled me to the bathroom.
I did feel a lot better after the bathroom break, and I had taken as long as I thought I could get away with. Anything to put off what was coming. After I was finished, they brought me into a room deeper in the building. Where the outside had looked like a simple warehouse, once I was inside it reminded me of a rabbit’s warren. Hallways lead off in different directions, with staircases to higher levels here and there.
The room they took me to was concrete, tile, and glass. A chair was bolted to the floor in the center, and the bloodstains on the floor had me sending a desperate wish out into the universe for Rishi or Rio or whoever was coming for me to hurry.
My hands were cuffed to the armrests of the chair, and another chain wrapped around my waist. I wanted to fight, but there were three of them, and who knew how many more standing in the wings, unseen. I decided to bide my time, my strength, and — I glanced at the floor again — my health.
The three men who had taken me from the parking structure stepped back, surveying their handiwork, and then receded to the corners of the room. I glanced around, noting the easy-clean nature of the place and what I was ninety-nine percent sure was a two-way mirror. Was Julio Fernandez on the other side, watching as I was bound here? This was clearly an interrogation room. Was this where he had hurt Antonio? I had assumed it was closer to home. Perhaps there were several of these places around Southern California, set in strategic locations. I figured I was taken out of the city to make it harder for my bodyguard to find me – a strategy that would have been much more effective if Moe hadn’t wanted to avoid traffic.
I was unreasonably amused by that, and my lips twitched upwards.
“Would you care to share with the rest of us what you find so funny?” Julio Fernandez asked, stepping into the room.
I lifted my shoulders in a shrug. “Just something I saw on the way here,” I answered.
Fernandez glanced at the tallest of my kidnappers, apparently the leader of the three of them, and he shifted uncomfortably.
“It’s hard finding decent help, isn’t it?” I asked Fernandez.
Fernandez sighed. “Yes, actually,” he answered. “That is why I am here personally.”
I nodded. “I see. If you want a job done properly, you really do have to do it yourself.”
Fernandez smiled. “ Si. I’m glad we understand one another.”
He crossed the room to me. “So, Officer Hallie. I am a reasonable man. I will ask you this once. Where is my daughter?”
I blinked at him, making my face entirely devoid of expression. “Who?”
Julio sighed again in a way that was simultaneously put-upon and irritated. “Yes, Officer Hallie, you are right. If you want a job done, you must do it yourself,” he said, then put a cigarette between his lips and struck his lighter, touching the flame to the tip of it. He took a long drag, then stepped in closer and showed me the glowing tip. “I will find out where my daughter is,” he informed me. “The only variable is how long you want your final night to last.”
And then Fernandez smiled at me and touched that glowing tip to my cheek.
***
My chin lay on my chest. Fernandez stood behind me and I could hear him flicking his lighter, the sound making my stomach clench. The cigarette had gone out and been relit several times, and the butt now lay on the floor near my foot.
Elena’s location was still safe, though my teeth ached from gritting them.
I wondered what Fernandez was going to try next. I knew he was going to kill me, but I also knew that someone was coming for me. A small part of my consciousness scoffed at the certainty of my belief, but the better part of me was completely confident. Also, the knowledge that if I did give in and tell him, Julio would promptly kill me was going a long way toward keeping me silent.
I knew, though, that if whoever was coming for me didn’t hurry, I would soon want to tell Fernandez so he would simply get it over with.
Fernandez crossed in front of me, still playing with the lighter. I raised my head and looked at him, smiled a little, then looked at the lighter. “Pretty,” I said, proud of how steady I still sounded. “Sterling silver? Was it a gift?”
Fernandez tipped his head, glancing between me and the lighter in his hand. For a moment, he seemed genuinely puzzled, and he nodded. “ Si ,” he said. “My twenty-first birthday.” He flicked it again. “I have something beautiful already planned for Elena’s birthday… why don’t you just tell me where she is so that I can bring her home and make sure she has a good time?”
I shook my head with as sad an expression as I could muster. “I’m sure she’s doing quite well where she is,” I said.
Abruptly Fernandez lashed out, kicking my amputation site. I curled over, the pain stealing my breath and making me nauseous. In some deep recess of my brain I was also furious at the setback the injury would cause to getting my new leg. I heard the lighter flick again above my head. “She belongs at home,” he said. “You seem to be very sensitive here,” he murmured, crouching and tapping the knee of my limb. “Perhaps…” He ran his fingers down my knee, over the material of my basketball shorts and my skin below the hem.
The wound was mostly healed, but it was tender, both the wound itself and the nerves that sometimes still believed there should be a lower leg and foot. Fernandez studied it carefully, even lifting it to inspect it more closely. I tried to keep my knee flexed, but he gave my knee a sharp chop with the edge of his hand that forced me to give in.
“Perhaps this might be the ticket…” Fernandez purred, running his thumb feather-light over the scar. My entire being shriveled from the sensation. The cigarette hurt, but I had endured a lot of pain since the amputation; I had almost grown accustomed to it. The thought of the lighter, still silvery-bright in Fernandez’s other hand, being applied to what was left of my leg made me want to vomit.
Fernandez smiled and stroked my scar again, his teeth bright against his olive skin. “You do not like that, do you, Officer Hallie? No, no, you are very protective of this.” He sucked his teeth thoughtfully. “Unintended, but quite fortuitous for me, I think. Where is Elena?”
“If I had a watch, I could tell you better,” I said.
Fernandez chuckled harshly. “Your balls are made of steel, Officer, I will give you that.”
I grinned, though it hurt the burns on my cheeks. “You have no idea,” I said.
His eyes dropped to my crotch. “Now I have a choice to make,” he said. “Do I start here…” He stroked my scar once more. “Or here…” He backhanded me in the crotch sharply.
I curled in, fighting to breathe, though I didn’t cry out. When I was finally able, I straightened again and glared at Fernandez.
He laughed. “Dirty pool, no? You have no idea.” He hit me again, this time in the belly, followed by a hard stomp to my foot.
“Getting impatient?” I ground out.
“My time is valuable,” Fernandez said. “You are toying with me, and while I appreciate bravery in the face of adversity, I have places to be. Tell me where my daughter is.”
“It’s dinner time, probably eating,” I growled.
“ Hijo de la fregada, ” Fernandez snarled in my face, and I laughed.
“If you think that’s the first time someone has called me that,” I said, shaking my head. “ Que te den. ”
Fernandez backhanded me across the mouth hard, and I felt my teeth cut into the inside of my lip. “Where is my daughter,” he demanded once more, and when I didn’t answer, he hit me again and again and again, until blood ran down my chin.
“Where is my daughter?”
“ Que te den, ” I whispered again.
He yanked my head back by a handful of my hair and flicked the lighter, waving the flame close enough to my jawline that I felt my stubble singe. “I do not know why you wish to die in great pain,” he said softly. “But your wish is my command.”
The next moment, the lighter went out and he kicked my limb hard, then took it in his grasp, curling his large, meaty hand over the end and squeezing.
“You will tell me where my Elena is,” he said as he applied greater and greater pressure, and tears sprang to my eyes. “There is no way for you to avoid it.” He released his hand, moving it to grip my leg into place. He flicked the lighter on again, beneath my limb, and smiled at me as he raised the flame closer and closer to my scar.
I began to scream, the heat nearly unbearable on such sensitive flesh, and Fernandez laughed softly. “Now you will tell me,” he said, but just before the flame actually touched my skin, an alarm sounded.
Fernandez straightened, the lighter falling closed. He looked around wildly as two of the three men who had been in the room with us rushed out, and another rushed in.
“Security breach,” the newcomer said, a tablet in one hand and a gun in the other. “Get what you need. We need to go.”
Fernandez looked at me, clearly about to begin again, but then gunshots sounded outside the door. Armed Tablet Man slammed the door that he had come in through, flicked the lock, and covered it with the gun. “Hurry,” he said.
“Where is my daughter?” Fernandez roared, the lighter disappearing to be replaced with a knife against my throat.
“You’re going to kill me no matter what,” I said, my voice now shaking from the pain in my leg. “And if I hold out long enough you just might go out with me.” I took a deep, ragged breath. “Go. To. Hell.” I said, looking him in the eyes.
He was almost trembling with rage. “Meet you there,” he said, and I felt the blade bite into my skin.