One Rough Man - Brad Taylor [152]
Clearly, it was no coincidence the man from Guatemala was now in Tuzla. He was here because of Bakr. But if that was so, why hadn’t the man chased him? Why let him run away without a single response? Maybe the man didn’t recognize him. Maybe they knew that the partner of Sayyidd and Walid was in Tuzla but didn’t know exactly who he was. If that was the case, he was still invisible. He needed to get back into his hotel, retrieve the detonator, and head to Sarajevo. That would be a complete break from everything the enemy knew. He would once again be on the offensive, safe in his anonymity.
He considered the hotel room. It would be a great risk to return there, since the enemy could be waiting for him. On the other hand, he hadn’t told Sayyidd where he was staying, and the very fact that he had seen them nonchalantly hanging around out front indicated a coincidence, since they would never have been so brazen had they thought he was staying there. The detonator was worth the risk. He would just have to be very careful in his approach, ensuring the hotel didn’t contain a trap.
91
The men in the sedan had the presence of mind to handcuff me, but luckily they had done so after I was in the car, leaving my hands to my front. I would never have made that mistake, but I wasn’t going to complain. Hopefully, they’ll learn this lesson the hard way.
In front of us was another sedan holding three men, leading the way out of town. I was sandwiched between the two guys who had taken me off the street, both of them hard looking with a military air. The man known as Mason, sitting on my left, was the only one who spoke.
“Pike, listen, this is nothing personal. I’m sure you understand. It’s just a professional mission. You’re going to die. That’s a given. The choice you have is how. We need to know where the woman is. Tell us that, and we’ll simply put a bullet in your head.”
Well, there you go. Nothing personal about it. They just want to kill me.
“Go fuck yourself.”
Mason nodded. “Yeah, okay. I figured my little speech wouldn’t convince you. That’s no problem. We have plenty of time.”
We had left Tuzla and were headed south on a twisting two-lane road, the view alternating between rugged hillside and steep drop-off. The lead car was occasionally lost from sight around the sharp curves. After five minutes, we made a right turn on to a narrow blacktop that followed the ridgeline, heading deeper into the rugged terrain, away from the heavily trafficked main road.
Mason continued. “Look, I’ll give you something to think about while we drive, just to ensure you know I’ve got the stomach for the work: I’m the one who talked to your friend Ethan. Trust me, it wasn’t pleasant. I took no joy in it. The conversation lasted a long, long time.”
You little coward. I stared deep into Mason’s eyes, causing him to look away. “You should have kept that to yourself. I would’ve only killed you in self-defense. Now I’m going to kill every fucking one of you purely for the pleasure of it.”
The driver gave a nervous laugh and said, “We’ll see how tough you are in thirty minutes, asshole. Your buddy thought he was pretty hard, too, right up until we punctured his daughter’s eyes.”
Before I could respond, he jerked the wheel to the left, shouting, “Shit! Hang on!”
We were slammed back into our seats by a collision from the rear. The car swerved lightly right, then left, coasting to a stop on the side of the road.
Mason looked out the back window, saying, “What the hell happened?”
“We got rear-ended by some Bosnian bitch. Wait a sec and I’ll get rid of her.”
“Hurry up,” Mason said. “We lost our escort. Assholes kept going around the curve without even looking back.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll throw some money at her. Give me a