The Blood King Conspiracy

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

The Blood King swopped restlessly between three Sat-phones. On the first was his lackey, Ed Boudreau. On the second was his overseer of the ranch back home, a man who went just by the name Claude. On the third was Senator John R. Lender.

The Blood King so loved to make a man break down.

“Please,” Lender was begging. “Please. I couldn’t go on…”

The Blood King grinned. “Beg, you Yankee bastard,” his voice was low and guttural, the kind of noise that had sent shards of fear through men since the caveman days.

It was the Blood King’s natural voice.

“I do beg. I beg you.”

The Blood King left him pleading and addressed Boudreau. “Explain to me, Mr Boudreau, how you lost the controller. Leave nothing out.”

Boudreau was succinct, one could give him that. He was dangerous too, but only up to a certain level. The game being played was known in its entirety only to the Blood King, and went far beyond Blackbeard and his two devices. It went deep into Diamond Head itself, and to the very Gates of Hell.

But that was for the future. The Blood King had prepared well. Claude, his ranch supervisor, was attending to the future side of things.

He addressed Claude whilst the other two babbled: “Are our guests uncomfortable?”

“As requested, sir.”

“It may be some time, yet, but I will make my way there. Have everything in order. Do not fail me. I believe there are still three on your… list?”

“Yes, sir. Preparations are under way.”

The Blood King ended the call. It was time to turn his attention back to Boudreau. “Ed,” he growled. “Ed,” like the sound of a lion crunching bones.

“Sir?” The trepidation in that one word was enough to put the Blood King in a better mood.

“Truth is, Mr Boudreau, I also thought Alicia Myles was an asset. So we are both fools. But we will learn from that?”

“Yes.” The flood of relief was obvious.

“Now. Did my techs give you the coordinates of the computer hacker?”

“Yes. I suspect they have an amateur working for them.”

“In fact, this person is good. World class, I am told, even to get as far as he has. But my people are better.”

“Of course.”

“Get to those coordinates, Mr Boudreau, with overwhelming force. And get me the controller. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

The Blood King severed the connection. The naked prisoner trussed up at his feet stared up at him with wet, desperate eyes.

“Did you lure them with the blood trail?” the Blood King asked his men.

“Several sharks are now following us, sir.”

“Excellent.” The Blood King bent down and drew a knife across the prisoner’s wrists and thighs. He took a moment to watch the life-blood begin to pump and then kicked the trussed-up man overboard, taking care to hold the rope that attached him to the ship. “Stop the boat and inflate his life-jacket. The ocean sport is looking good today.”