chapter forty-two
Jack heard the murmur of voices and the commotion at the entrance to the tunnel as the men descended the ladder.
“Stay here. I’ll be back for you,” he whispered in Lily’s ear.
“But if you don’t —”
“If that happens, others will come and find you. Do what you must to stay alive.”
In his heart, Jack knew if he didn’t succeed, Lily would be immediately killed, too, but he wanted her to remain quiet and still. He had decided she was traumatized enough without telling her the truth.
“Marcie has talked about you,” she said quickly, in a subconscious desire to have him stay with her a little longer.
“She’s still your friend,” he said, picking up the revolver beside him and standing up. Lily reached up and clung to his wrist. “I have to go,” he said.
Lily slowly let go and wrapped her arms around her knees, drawing them tight to her chest. “I hope you kill them all,” she whispered bitterly.
Jack had not told her the revolver was empty. “I’ll do my best,” he said, wondering how many men were being sent down the tunnel after him.
Eduardo handed his pistol to Berto and then descended the ladder first, but paused on a rung of the ladder above where the roof of the tunnel started. The possibility existed that Jack could be hiding in the tunnel near the shaft, outside the view from above and attempt to grab the gun of the first person who descended the ladder.
Eduardo glanced up at the two mercenaries who were aiming their weapons down the shaft and gave a slight nod before jumping the remaining distance. He landed in a crouched position with his back against the end of the tunnel wall.
Eduardo’s smile and a wave of his hand told the others it was clear. Big Al and Sanchez peered down the shaft as the two mercenaries and Berto made their way down the ladder.
Big Al tapped Sanchez on the shoulder and said, “Go with them. Stay out of their way, but use your phone to give me a running update. After they shoot his kneecaps off, go to him and hold the phone near his ear. I will have a message for him.”
“A message?” asked Sanchez.
“Yes. That I am here waiting for him and the amount of time it takes him to crawl back will be the amount of time his family will be tortured before they die. I want to hear him scream in pain and in sorrow every time he grabs a handful of dirt to pull himself toward me.”
Jack quietly opened the bi-fold door and gingerly stepped around the plastic pail used as a toilet. He glanced at El Pero’s corpse and had a fleeting feeling of satisfaction as he headed for the hallway.
He was relieved when he saw only Big Al sitting on a kitchen chair beside the entrance to the tunnel. Big Al was at a right angle to him, but Jack still hoped he could sneak across the floor undetected and put the barrel of the gun to the back of his head.
Jack was halfway across the floor and felt a little less relieved when he realized Big Al was talking on his cellphone to someone in the tunnel. Jack was about to take another step closer when Big Al saw him.
Jack pointed the revolver at him and whispered, “Quietly hang up the phone and put your hands on your head. Make any noise, or try to warn anyone and I’ll blow your balls off.”
Big Al didn’t move as he stared back in amazement. His eyes flickered toward the hallway as he put it all together.
“Hurry up,” ordered Jack. “You’re driving us both out of here. If anyone tries to stop us, you’ll be the first to get it.”
“The gringo is with me in the house!” screamed Big Al in Spanish over his cellphone as he leaped to his feet. He glared at Jack and slowly and deliberately placed his open cellphone on the counter. “You will die for what you have done!” he said evenly.
Jack made one last attempt to bluff him by crouching in a combat position and holding the revolver with both hands as he pointed it at Big Al’s crotch.
“We all know the gun is empty,” roared Big Al, grab-bing the chair and charging at Jack like an enraged bull.
“Oh, shit,” was the only thing Jack had time to utter as he turned sideways to keep from having his ribs punctured with the bottoms of the metal chair legs.
The forced hurled him across the kitchen like he was stuck on the front of a freight train, before coming to a sudden stop when he was rammed against the wall.
One of Jack’s arms was pinned close to his body, but the other hand holding the revolver was free. Jack tried to smash the gun butt against Big Al’s face, but he saw it coming and pulled his head back.
Jack’s next assault on Big Al’s hand loosened his grip and Jack pushed the chair aside, only to be tackled to the floor by Big Al, who wrapped his arms around him like a grizzly bear as they rolled across the floor.
Big Al had the advantage of weight and soon came to rest on top, crushing Jack with his arms and his immense weight. Jack tried to knee him in the groin, but Big Al simply moved his lower body to one side without letting go.
They were face to face as Jack tried in vain to wriggle free. Eventually he stopped struggling.
“Giving up so easily, my little gringo?” smiled Big Al, as sweat dripped off his face onto Jack’s.
Jack lunged his head forward, biting and twisting as his teeth ripped and tore through the end of Big Al’s nose like a starving pit bull tearing into a steak.
Big Al screamed, pushing Jack on the chest in a frantic bid to get away. When he did get to his feet and break free, Jack spit out the end of his nose and delivered a swift punch to his solar plexis.
The wind exploded out of Big Al’s lungs like a popped balloon and he gasped for air. Another grunt and expulsion of air followed when Jack savagely kicked him in the groin, followed by a punch to his throat and a final kick to his knee that sent him sprawling face-down on the floor.
Big Al had no strength to resist when Jack sat on his back and used a scissor-like grip with his arms around Big Al’s neck to strangle the flow of blood his carotid artery supplied to his brain. Given enough time the hold would kill, but the sound of yelling from the tunnel told Jack he didn’t have the time.
As soon as Big Al lost consciousness, Jack rolled him over on his back and took the keys from his pocket.
He knew he should call for Lily, but as he looked at Big Al, the memory of the questions Big Al had asked him were still vivid.
What the hell … if they get me for killing El Pero, they may as well get me for killing you too …
Jack leaped high in the air, drawing his feet under him before landing with his heels on each of Big Al’s collar bones. They both snapped like kindling.
Big Al awoke with a scream and tried to move, before realizing his arms didn’t work and any movement brought severe pain.
Sanchez was running full tilt and nearing the bottom of the ladder when he heard Big Al screaming for help and yelling that Jack had broken both his arms. Unfortunately for Big Al, he had his head tilted back toward the tunnel when he was yelling and didn’t see Jack’s next move, which was to jump again, landing on his rib cage, breaking more bones.
Big Al cried out and closed his eyes in pain. Jack jumped once more, only this time he kept his legs tucked under and landed with his knees on the ribcage, driving the broken ribs into Big Al’s lungs.
Another voice yelled in Spanish and Sanchez realized it was Jack yelling at Big Al.
“You got any more questions to ask me about my family? Eh? Do you?”
The last sound Sanchez heard from Big Al was a loud, gurgling scream as he plunged headfirst down the shaft.
Jack tore the mended wire from the light switch, plunging the tunnel into darkness. He was shoving the counter back into position when he heard Sanchez screaming from the bottom of the ladder that the gringo had killed Big Al.
It gave Jack a sense of satisfaction to hear the panic in Sanchez’s voice. That’s right, you bastard. The big boss died on your watch …
Jack hollered for Lily and grabbed Big Al’s cellphone off the counter, before running to the hallway where he met Lily who stumbled and hysterically crawled in a frenzy toward him.