The Armada Legacy

Chapter Thirty-Three

Nico Ramirez smiled and shook his head. ‘You’re a crazy motherfucker.’

‘Maybe so,’ Ben said.

Nico raised the butt of the weapon to his shoulder and peered through the sights at Ben. He held it there for a long moment. Then he pursed his lips and lowered the gun, letting it rest across his knees. ‘But now I guess maybe you’re on the level.’

‘Right. And so you can tell me what’s going on here.’

‘You want to know what I was doing in Cabeza’s house, man? Simple. I was aiming to kill anyone they sent to kill him. I already got the first guy. I was waiting for the next to come. I thought you were him. Then if they’d sent more, I’d have killed them all, I swear.’

‘Who wants to kill Cabeza?’

‘The same people that have your woman,’ Nico said. ‘You want to get her back, huh? Maybe I can help you. Tell me – what’s she look like?’

‘What the hell is that to you?’ Ben said angrily.

‘You’ll understand, man. Describe her to me. Her hair. What colour?’

‘It’s not red,’ Ben said. ‘It’s not brown. Somewhere in between.’

‘Long? Short? Speak to me.’

‘Long.’

‘How old? Fat or thin?’

‘She’s thirty-six. Slim. What the fuck is this about?’

‘And real good looking, huh?’ Nico said, then saw that Ben was about to launch himself up and punch him again, gun or no gun. ‘Hey, hey, cool it, my friend. I’m asking you this shit for a reason, okay?’

Ben stared at him for a moment, then relented. He took out his wallet, pulled out the little photo of Brooke and held it out.

‘It’s like I thought,’ Nico said, studying the picture and shaking his head.

Ben snatched the photo back from him. ‘You’d better explain yourself, and fast.’

‘Sure I’ll explain. First, tell me – you’re willing to risk your life for this woman, right?’

‘I don’t know if she’s alive or dead,’ Ben said. ‘Either way I’ll do whatever it takes.’

Nico nodded thoughtfully. ‘You’d kill for her too, huh? Prepared to do that?’

‘It’s not something I choose to do.’

‘But you know how and you ain’t scared.’ Nico touched his injured face and gave a dark smile. ‘Who are you, man?’

‘I was in the British Army,’ Ben said. ‘I’m retired now.’

‘I knew there was something. You’re hard to kill. Some things a man doesn’t forget, right? Skills, training, all that stuff. And believe me when I say you’re gonna need them all if you want to go up against Ramon Serrato.’ A glimmer of hate passed behind Nico’s eyes as he spoke the name.

‘And why would I want to do that?’

‘Oh, you will, man. You will.’

‘Sounds like you need to tell me more about this Serrato.’

‘You’re talking to the right guy. I study Serrato like Einstein studied physics. Born into the slums of Mexico City in 1969. Grew up fighting for scraps as the youngest of four deadbeat punk brothers and the only one who made it past the age of twenty-five. Could have ended up like them, but he pulled himself up out of the barrio by washing pots and serving tables to put himself through law school. Moved to Bogotá, set up in business and became a millionaire by the age of twenty-six. Taught himself the social graces: well read, speaks perfect English, dresses immaculately, excellent classical pianist, appreciates art and sculpture and all that kind of shit. Nowadays he lives in Peru. His business is real estate development and exports: bananas, coffee, wine, you name it.’

Nico paused and looked as if he wanted to spit. ‘At least, that’s how he likes to appear. But to those of us who hunted the fucker and never caught him, and to the families of the hundreds of people he slaughtered back when he was capo of the biggest, most ruthless goddamn drugs cartel in Bogotá, he was known as the Stingray.’

Stingray, Ben thought. Connections lit up in his mind. ‘Roger Forsyte was poisoned with a rare type of venom. Stingray venom, from South America.’

‘Serrato’s trademark. Legend was, he kept a tank full of rays at his mansion in Bogotá, used to extract the poison from them. It was how he killed his special enemies. The rest he just slaughtered like animals.’ The Colombian lowered his eyes. ‘Like he did to my little Daniela and Carlos.’

Ben looked at him. ‘Your children?’

Nico swallowed. ‘Yeah, my beautiful children. Serrato had them butchered, because of me. Because I was the first cop who ever had the balls to get close to catching him. I never did. But I will one day. I don’t care if it takes me the rest of my life. I will.’

‘So that’s what this is, a vendetta?’

‘Nobody deserves to die like Serrato deserves to die. If you’d seen the things he’s done, you’d want him dead too. The things he did to women, like he hated them all so bad …’ Nico shook his head in disgust. ‘There was a coke dealer in Bogotá called Feliciano Betancourt, flashy, good-looking dude, real ladies’ man, who made the mistake of breaking in on Serrato’s territory one time. They took him from his house in the middle of the night, along with this pretty girlfriend of his. We found out later she was a waitress at the restaurant he’d been eating in that night. I mean, Betancourt was filth, but the girl didn’t even have anything to do with anything. That didn’t stop Serrato from getting his guys to work her face over with a blowtorch. After she’d been raped by about twenty of them. We found her body in the Bogotá River the next day.’

Ben looked down at his feet and felt sick. This was the man Nico was saying had Brooke.

‘Others were the wives of his enemies, or their daughters. One of those poor bitches he had hung up from a warehouse ceiling and sliced into strips like a fucking kebab. Another one he chained up in a barrel and—’

‘All right,’ Ben said tersely. ‘I get the idea.’

‘But he ain’t gonna do any of that to your woman,’ Nico said emphatically. ‘No way.’

As much of a relief as it was to Ben’s frazzled nerves to hear it, something about the Colombian’s certainty struck him as strange. ‘What does that mean?’

‘It means she’s alive, man,’ Nico said. ‘I know she’s alive.’

The words hit Ben like an electric current wired up to his whole body. He reached out and gripped the Colombian’s arm. ‘How do you know that? How? Why?’

‘I know it, because I don’t have a life of my own any more,’ Nico said. ‘For three years while I was a cop and for seven years since I quit my job, Ramon Serrato has been my whole life. It’s been my fucking mission to know everything about him, everything he does. I know why he had the English guy Forsyte killed, what he took from him. And I know what he wants with—’

‘What he wants with Brooke? You have to tell me.’

Nico shook his head. ‘It ain’t something you can tell. To understand some things, it takes more than words, man.’

‘Then show me.’

‘Need a cellphone. Mine’s full of water.’

Without hesitation, Ben took out his own and handed it over. Nico bent over it for a few moments, pressing keys as he searched online for something. It didn’t take him long to find. He grunted, ‘There. Look,’ and passed the phone back to Ben.

Ben grasped the phone tightly in his hands and stared in complete disbelief at the image on the screen.

The photo was of a woman. She was posing by a pool, pouting seductively for the camera. A golden tropical sunset backlit her auburn curls. Her skimpy green swimsuit matched her eyes and clung wetly to the few parts of her it didn’t reveal.

He blinked. It couldn’t be. But it was. He was looking at a picture of Brooke.