The lights were on inside, but tarps hung from both doors, giving the appearance that the business was in darkness.
Rellik nodded to them as they entered and gestured to the two men who were tied spread-eagled and face-down between the inside rails of the car wash. Both men were naked except for the band of duct tape wrapped around their mouths.
“This how you wanted ’em?” asked Rellik.
Damien nodded.
Both men turned their heads and stared up at them. Lance recognized Leitch. His face was thin and pointed, making his wide eyes look almost comical. His hands were tied close to the soles of the feet of the man in front of him. Lance didn’t recognize this man, whose dark eyes stared up at him.
“Leitch dancing with the Indos?” asked Whiskey Jake.
Damien shook his head, then looked at Rellik and said, “Show them.”
“Found this in his Mercedes,” said Rellik, while handing Lance and Whiskey Jake a Colombian passport. The meaning became startlingly clear.
“This ... Ramon. He’s Carlos’s brother!” said Lance.
Damien nodded. “They call him Ray.”
“Dealing with The Toad,” said Whiskey Jake.
“Probably,” said Damien. “We do know he was dealing with Leisure Suit Larry here!”
Leitch mumbled something inaudible while pleading with his eyes.
Damien turned his attention back to Rellik and said, “I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but right now all I want is my wife and daughter back. They do any talking?”
Rellik prodded Leitch in the ass with the toe of his boot and said, “Larry says that Ray is just a client. Says he didn’t know that he had anything to do with us.”
“Liar!” screamed Damien, stepping between the rails and kicking Leitch hard in the groin.
Leitch’s body arched and bucked against his restraints. Despite his gag, his scream and whimpering echoed through the room.
Damien savagely kicked Leitch again and saw Ray looking back over his shoulder. Leitch’s body became a quivering mass after the third kick.
Damien continued to stare into Ray’s eyes, then walked up and ripped the tape from his mouth.
“Where are they?” Damien asked. “My wife and daughter — what have you done with them?”
Most men would have told, but Ray was no stranger to torture ... only he had always been the one to inflict the pain. He knew his life would be worthless once he talked.
“I — I don’t know,” he said. “I had nothing to do with it.”
Damien looked at Rellik and said, “Get on with it!”
Rellik grinned down at the two victims and said, “Gentlemen, let me introduce you to the talking stick!”
Ray gasped when he saw Rellik pick up a length of broken broom handle with a spiral of barbed wire wrapped around the end. He held the stick close to Ray’s face and slowly examined it.
“Please ... no ... sir,” pleaded Ray. The reason for his nakedness and face-down position had become evident to him.
Rellik stepped between Ray’s legs and slowly twisted the end of the stick between his buttocks. The barbs drew thin red lines of blood.
“Please, no!” screamed Ray. “You must believe me! My brother is the boss. He controls everything. Everything! It was his men ... I don’t know where they took your family. Please, call him. He will pay big money for me. Big money...”
Damien held up his hand, gesturing for Rellik to stop, then held out the cellphone that Carlos had supplied him earlier. “His number,” said Damien. “Give me his number and I will hold the phone so you can talk to him!”
Jack scanned the warehouses in the industrial area that Laura was driving through. It would be dusk in another hour, but there were still a few trucks moving about.
“This looks good,” said Laura. “Independent warehouses. Trucks and vans coming and going.”
Jack saw the address they were looking for. He also noticed something else. “Keep driving! Don’t slow down or look!”
“Someone eyeballing us?” asked Laura, as she drove right past.
“There’s a guy sitting in that pickup out front.”
Laura caught sight of the truck in her rear-view mirror. It was backed into a parking stall. “People getting off work. Maybe waiting for someone,” she offered.
“Or standing six,” said Jack.
“Did you get a plate?”
“No front plate. Find a place to park where we can watch. This could be it.”
Laura parked where they could watch the warehouse through binoculars. The pickup truck remained out front.
Jack received a call on his cell and handed the binoculars to Laura.
“Hey, Johnny Canuck! How you all doin’ up there?”
“Jim-Bo! How are you? Heard you were out of the country.”
“Just got in. Tried to do a sting on the head honcho of a Colombian cartel. Didn’t go well.”
“Carlos?”
“No. The Diego Ramirez cartel. He’s in close competition with Carlos, though. They were at war with each other up until a couple of months ago. Looks like they settled on a truce for now. Ramirez operates out of Cali, while Carlos operates out of another city just north of Cali called Buga.”
“Were you successful in nailing Ramirez?”
“Naw. We tried to set up a sting on him. He has a weakness for redheads. Got a CI close to him and tried to sucker him out of the country so we could grab him. Didn’t work. Ramirez is smart. Cultured too. Speaks perfect English and generally pretends to be a gentleman. When it comes to cocaine distribution, Ramirez is about even with Carlos. He’s a major player. We’ve been after him for years. Same as Carlos. Both top drug lords we’d like to put behind bars.”
“What can you tell me about Carlos?”
“He’s the opposite of Ramirez. Relies on terror to stay where he is. Not that Ramirez is averse to torture and murder, but he generally tends to be more subtle and will give someone time to reflect upon how much money could be made. Carlos’s organization is more inclined to offer a smaller bribe while they stick a gun in the person’s face and pull the trigger if they refuse. That’s if Carlos is feeling nice. Otherwise he tortures them to death.”
“Nice guy.”
“Yeah. Real nice. Sally said you all called. Was it about Carlos?”
“Yes. I want to know everything about him. Particularly in regard to kidnappings.”
“I can tell you that you don’t want to be on the receiving end. His organization has snatched lots of people. Usually they’re found mutilated. The guy is a real psycho. He’s got lots of enemies. Never leaves Colombia and always travels with at least thirty bodyguards. Well connected, too. The asshole always wears a green beret. I think he does it to relate to the militant factions down there that he hires to protect his labs. We’ve tried for years to get evidence to extradite both him and Ramirez. So far, no luck.”
“A fellow up here owes Carlos money. His wife and daughter were grabbed for ransom.”
“Yeah? Well tell the guy he probably won’t be seeing them again ... at least not alive.”
“Appreciate it if you don’t tell anyone about this call. The guy confided in me but doesn’t want the police