Inca Kings

CHAPTER NINE

Drake knew there were precious few times in a person’s life when the crossroads presented itself. A juncture when all outcomes and all futures were uncertain. A person made a choice.

And the rest of their lives changed.

If only we could see these crossroads coming. If only…

Not that night they didn’t.

Hayden dragged Joshua through the barely open doors and into the rear store of a shop the CIA used as a front. The store was sizeable, its corners obscured by towers of cardboard boxes. At one end sat a wooden desk, filing cabinets and a bookshelf replete with sheets of paper. At the other end, just a sink and kettle.

Hayden nodded at Smyth. “Grab that chair.”

She waited for Smyth to comply, then threw Joshua into it. The man’s head was bleeding where Yorgi had struck him with the bottle, and his eyes now swept every part of the room and every face before him.

“Who are you? Cops?”

“You speak English? Good. That’ll make this much easier.” Hayden again motioned to Smyth, this time to attach Joshua’s arms to the chair by way of plastic ties. Drake noticed that not once did she look Kinimaka’s way, and he fancied it wasn’t because of their recent break up. The Hawaiian wouldn’t be best pleased with what was about to happen.

Hayden’s track record was not good when it came to holding back.

Hayden stalked over to the sink and filled the kettle. Alicia and Mai checked the outside, walked the perimeter, and reported all was well. Drake and Yorgi considered the inside, noted CCTV cameras and listening devices. Drake pointed them out to Hayden.

“Cover the cameras. Find the tape. Kill the ears.”

He paused. “They already know we’re here.”

“I used to work for ’em, Drake. Believe me when I say — leave nothing incriminating behind. These things can hit you back years down the line.”

It reminded him of Tyler Webb’s menacing statement. He shrugged over at Yorgi and started on the main camera.

Hayden picked up a towel and stepped over to Joshua. His shortness forced him to crane his neck in order to look her in the eyes.

“You shouldn’t fuck with me. You don’t know who I am.” Hard words.

“Y’know, I’m not even gonna play the game,” Hayden said uncaringly. “I don’t give a shit. In sixty seconds, I’m gonna ask you a question. Your answer will determine how much pain I then put you through.”

Joshua hesitated, unsure. “In sixty seconds?”

Hayden wrapped the towel around his head, shutting him up and began to pour from the kettle. Water splashed all over the man’s face and then to the floor. The struggle began, arms wrenching against ties and drawing blood, feet kicking at the chair legs and into empty space. Hayden didn’t bother to hold him down and soon the chair had toppled over. She looked over to Smyth.

“Pick him up.”

The soldier complied. Kinimaka came over to help Drake and Yorgi as they finished removing all the spyware they could see. Drake pocketed a tape and then listened as Hayden spoke once more.

“We’re looking for someone from the mountains. Wealthy, prone to bribery, prefers to be left alone. Educated. A man of few words. Probably ruthless. Does it ring any bells with you, Joshua?”

A widening of the eyes, ever so slight, gave him away. The vigorous shake of the head, though, did him no favors at all.

Hayden had bound his face with the towel again before the denials shot from his mouth. This time, Smyth took the kettle and poured for a while. Gasps filled the room along with the hushed but violent struggles of the drowning man.

Another respite. Another rebuttal. Drake shuffled his feet and looked over when Alicia and Mai came back in. The two drifted separately, and it seemed to Drake that no words had passed between them. Their feud appeared to have lost some of its fire, but no doubt only because Alicia had been gallivanting with the other team for a while. Now that she was back… He shuddered inwardly.

Smyth kicked the chair over this time. Joshua tried to scream but only a jet of water burst from his mouth. Then came the coughing, retching and chest heaving.

“Can’t hear you.” Hayden leaned in close.

“It-it’s… a—”

“Fuck’s sake.” Hayden didn’t wait, but nodded at Smyth and the water boarding began anew. Drake frowned a little.

“Wasn’t he trying to say something?”

“Dunno, Drake. Was he?”

The crossroads beckoned, a vast junction of possibilities, a multitude of outcomes. Drake saw what could be, but he didn’t see all of it.

Smyth poured. Kinimaka stepped into sight. “Give him a break.”

Hayden was already pushing Smyth’s arm away. Maybe it was luck, or maybe she sensed his movement. As it was, she ignored him and stripped the towel away once more.

Eventually, Joshua found a breath. “It’s not just me,” he gasped. “We are the Cusco Militia. We are twelve. I am leader, but we are strong. You will all die horribly.”

He spat at Smyth and then at Hayden, having no shortage of water in his mouth, and then spat at their feet. Rather than showing frustration or anger, Hayden only grinned.

“I’m happy that you wish to continue.”

Kinimaka grunted and headed for the door. Drake felt for the big Hawaiian, but saw the far-reaching picture, and all the horrendous things that could transpire. They should continue. The Cusco Militia were probably well organized and well trained.

Hayden and Smyth performed their routine again, beginning to look more streamlined and content in their work as the hour progressed. Joshua spat out water again and again, choked until he almost passed out, made some joke about all the water helping to cleanse his practically dried out liver, and went under again. Kinimaka came back in, saw the ongoing struggle, and disappeared some more. Mai and Alicia stood next to each other, arms crossed, looking like they wished they’d prefer a bloody battlefield than such close proximity.

Drake sauntered over to them both, knowing waterboarding could take a while. “ ’Ow’s it goin’? Don’t s’pose you saw a chip ’ole out there?”

Mai struggled, frowning. Alicia grunted. “Is that supposed to be an icebreaker?”

“Hellfire! Why would I do that?”

Mai put a hand on his arm. “Chip ’ole?”

“Chip hole. Fish and chip shop. Chippy. The house of the gods.”

“Ah, and I thought I knew all your jargon.”

“You don’t know the half of it, Sprite.” Alicia made a point of stepping between them to fetch the last bottle of water, removing Mai’s hand by default. “Have you heard the noise he makes when you twist his—”

Drake coughed loudly. “Alicia!”

“Finger,” she finished innocently, then started to remove the bottle top.

Mai, it seemed, had decided not to let Drake go lightly and, to be fair, why would he ever have expected her to? He guessed the only thing stopping her accelerating this feud into a full-blown battle was the fact that it was she who had left him, she who had needed time, she who hadn’t been able to say if and when she was coming back to the team.

The Japanese woman moved incredibly fast, closing down the space between her and Alicia and plucking the water bottle from the other woman’s hands. Then she took a long swig, smiling into Alicia’s shocked face.

“Icy.”

“That’s the last bottle.”

“Here,” Mai proffered the open top. “I’ll hold it still to make sure you don’t choke too much.”

“I don’t swop spit with bitches.”

“Oh, is that a recent lifestyle change?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Drake said and turned away. “Stop twisting me bloody lug ’ole.”

He hoped his disdain would have the desired effect and, for a while, it did. The team had been shaken hard lately. Dahl and Johanna splitting, and talking about divorce. Smyth and Lauren warring so badly that the New Yorker had elected to stay in DC. And then there was Hayden and Kinimaka, two people he’d thought were made for each other. He felt badly for them, seeing both sides and able to do precisely jack-shit about it. For right or wrong, couples made their own choices and moved ahead. It was just another one of those life-changing crossroads moments.

If only he’d known what was about to happen. Turning back then, he saw Hayden pouring and Smyth tugging on the towel. He saw Joshua’s feet kicking and then heard them drumming on the floor. He saw Kinimaka return again and nod the all clear.

At last, they allowed Joshua to breathe. Smyth moved around to the back of the chair and whilst the corrupt man tried to catch breath, he kicked it forward. The floor came hard; Joshua’s forehead striking concrete. Smyth pulled him back up, then bent down so he was less than an inch from the haunted eyes.

“You ready yet, or we gonna get started on the second hour?”

Joshua took a long shuddering breath. Blood from the gash across his forehead started leaking into his eyes. The man looked exhausted. Hayden made a point of heading back over to the sink and filling the kettle. About thirty minutes ago, on seeing her do the same thing, Joshua had asked for an Earl Grey. Now, he stared despondently at the ceiling.

“I will speak. You promise to let me go, I will speak,” The words were ragged, torn from a bruised throat. “Ah, my head hurts so much.”

Hayden spread her hands. “You sure? Don’t want to hold out for just a while longer? Want an aspirin?”

Kinimaka stepped forward. “Quit it with the intimidation. Just let the man speak.”

“Stand back, Mano. That way, you’re not involved.”

Drake moved to the Hawaiian’s shoulder. “Let’s hear what he has to say.”

Joshua wasn’t waiting any longer though, probably hearing the quiet friction all too well. He took one deep breath and began to speak. “We, the militia, see what goes on in town, we oversee most of it. There are many involved, from all… rankings.” He shrugged. “It is what it is. I know of man you seek, though he is very careful. Money does buy anonymity if that’s what you want and you have the deep pockets. He lives in the mountains, yes, but I don’t know where. There are so many deep mountain passes nobody ever visits, even unexplored regions out there.” He waved vaguely at the door.

“That’s not going to be good enough,” Kinimaka warned.

“No, no, I have not yet finished. He uses middlemen and his own people to pass messages, cash and other items. He buys from our town but sends only those sworn not to talk of what they know. Hey, guys, my forehead really hurts. Can you break bones in there? I mean, shit…”

“Wait,” Drake said. “Rewind. You said ‘his people?’”

Joshua cleared his throat noisily. “I don’t know arrangement, but they do not work for him. It is more like they belong to him. For life. Maybe he has house like Charles Manson, eh?” He tried a grin that didn’t even start to work, then continued, “The people that bring cash though, they not so clever. I talk, the militia talks, and they sometimes reveal too much, yes? I know they are closest to Kimbiri, and also know of Nuno and Quillabiri.”

“Kimbiri?” Mai asked.

“It is a small village out there—” again he waved at the door “—in the mountains. Mostly self-sufficient. Remote. Traditional. Old Incan ancestors. We don’t hear much from them.”

The way he dropped his eyes spoke a different truth.

Still, Drake became upbeat. “More like it, pal. This is what we need, guys, so let’s wrap it up. Wrap him up. And scram.”

“Wait.” Hayden lifted the kettle. “He’s lying. Something’s not right with his story.”

Smyth stood at the crossroads. “Want a little more, bud?”

“That’s all I know. All—”

Drake waved a hand in a delaying motion. “We got—”

Smyth was watching Hayden, who quickly nodded. He took a step back, raised a boot and kicked hard at the back of Joshua’s chair. A man tied so tightly and unable to move will go down hard, and onto the same spot he’d already hurt, and if the choices at the crossroads stood against you — then that man would stop struggling almost immediately.

Forever.