Chapter Seventy-Two
LOWERING HIS HAND, the Afghan walked to the telephone and spun the dial again, sending another shock wave through his captive’s unconscious body. Then he opened the door for Cornelius Bates.
“Smells like shit in here,” the lieutenant said.
“Burning flesh,” the Afghan said. “You get used to it.”
“Is he dead?” Bates asked.
The Afghan yanked back the former SEAL’s head and pried open his left eye.
“No, but there’s not much resistance left in him.”
“Wake him up,” Bates ordered, turning his attention to Belle. “And who have we here? Mirabelle Travois. You should have left well enough alone and you might have survived all this.”
“Fuck you.”
Bates crossed his arms against his chiseled chest.
“That’s no way to talk to law enforcement.”
“Excuse me,” she said. “Fuck you, cocksucker!”
Bates laughed. “This will all be over soon. You might have a bigger role in this than you imagined.”
Bates turned back to the Afghan and the naked man hanging from the rafter.
He slapped Walker across the face.
“Wake up, hero,” Bates said.
Walker’s eyes slowly opened.
“Ah, you’ve come back to us,” the police lieutenant said. “Can you hear me?”
“I hear you.”
He nodded at the Afghan, who twisted the crank on the old phone, shooting another jolt of current through Walker’s body, sending it into convulsions. He slapped Walker across the face again.
“What made you want to complicate my life?”
Walker stared into Bates’s eyes.
“Hit him again!”
The Afghan spun the crank.
Walker’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as his body spasmed.
“Again!”
The Afghan spun the dial once more.
Walker’s screams were arrested by the current, resulting in a gargled, fragmented howl.
“Why are you here, cowboy? You kill Sergeant Dupuis? How about Walt Kimbel? You blow up Nectar? We know you killed Gormley. Gormley was a friend of mine. Why did you do it? More importantly, who did you tell?”
Walker’s body rocked back and forth above the floor. He remained silent.
“Hit him again. And keep cranking that thing.”
Walker’s body thrashed in violent spasms as the Afghan continued to turn the crank. More electricity flowed through his body, the smell of sweat and burnt flesh permeating the small room.
“Enough!” Belle screamed.
Walker fought to catch his breath.
“I brought something with me,” Bates said, reaching into his pocket. “I thought you’d want to see it.”
He produced a vintage Tudor dive watch.
“I believe you know it,” Bates said as he strapped it onto his wrist. “When I took it off Leigh Ann, I thought it was sized a bit large for her. John Staub’s if I’m not mistaken. Just wanted you to know how badly you lost.”
“Fuck you, Bates.”
The lieutenant delivered a devastating hook to Walker’s ribs and another to his jaw.
“I felt some ribs break on that one,” Bates said. “Bet that hurts.”
Walker struggled to catch his breath.
“I didn’t notice,” he managed.
Bates studied the man hanging before him.
“Badass soldier, huh? You’re nothing. And look who’s in the corner.
Sweet little foul-mouthed Belle. She’s made this much easier on all of us.
You look like you are almost dead as it is.
Instead of torturing you, I’ll have one of my associates carve up Belle in front of you.
Maybe do worse. These boys are not long out of prison.
They’ll probably run a train on her right here for you to see.
You’ll watch, knowing you put her in this hell.
You are both going to die tonight. The ‘how’ is up to you. ”
“Your ‘associates’?” Walker asked, his breathing labored.
“You don’t think I came out here without backup, do you?”
“Shitbirds like you need backup. Just so you know, your men that I killed, they didn’t die well.”
Bates stepped toward the prisoner and slammed his head into Walker’s nose.
It broke with a crack. Blood started to flow.
Bates delivered four uppercuts to the suspended man’s abdomen and then continued his assault on Walker’s face with jabs, crosses, and hooks, using the defenseless man as a human punching bag.
He then brushed past the Afghan and wound the hand crank, watching Walker spasm on the chain, smoke rising from his feet and groin, his naked body absorbing the deadly current.
“You want to kill him?” the Afghan said by way of warning.
Bates continued to crank the handle and only stopped when the sound of another vehicle echoed through the swamp.