THE THOUSAND DOLLAR SLAVE by J.T. Brannan

Author:J.T. Brannan [Brannan, J.T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grey Arrow Publishing
Published: 2021-02-27T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

“You don’t know what the fuck you’ve done to yourself,” De Luca drawled, hopped up on the medication I’d given him. It was over-the-counter stuff, but it was surprising what you could buy over the counter these days. “You’ve signed your own death warrant. You –”

He was cut off by a scream – long and loud and bloodcurdling. It was his own scream, caused by me pressing my thumb hard into the bandage on his shoulder. I’d patched the guy up and medicated him, sure – I didn’t want him dying before I’d questioned him, after all – but direct pressure to the gunshot wound was still guaranteed to cut through the painkillers, however powerful.

We were in an abandoned warehouse up at Thorn Hill Industrial Park. It was twenty miles north of downtown, well away from the cops and the gangsters who would probably be all over the streets searching for us. It had taken just over half an hour to drive up there, including a stop at a pharmacy for supplies, and just another five minutes to drive far enough onto the site to find an empty unit that I thought would be suitable. It had been after six in the evening when we’d got there, and most people on the park had gone home for the day; darkness had already fallen, nobody could have seen me drag the body – unconscious from the shock and blood loss – from the car into the warehouse, and I figured that being disturbed was highly unlikely. Just in case, Kane was out front, guarding the place. He’d let me know well in advance if we had any unwanted visitors.

“Let us cut the bullshit,” I told him, still using what I hoped was a fairly decent Russian accent. “I know who you are, and I decided to go into your club – by myself – take down your boys, and kidnap you. So if you think your piss-ant little threats are going to stop me doing what I’m doing, you are dead wrong.” I emphasized the word dead, so the mob boss would be under no illusions about what his fate might be if he didn’t comply with my polite requests. “Now, you are going to talk, one way or another. So you might as well start now and save yourself some trouble.”

“Fuck you,” De Luca spat.

I nodded, disappointed but not at all surprised. Men like De Luca had to be hard men to survive in their chosen profession. Organized crime was Darwinian in the extreme – the weak got weeded out very early on, and only the strongest rose to the top.

I let out a long sigh to demonstrate that disappointment, but remained calm, like it didn’t faze me one bit, like I had all the time in the world. “You know, Mike – I can call you Mike, can’t I? – well, you know, I’m not the world’s best doctor, okay? In fact, I’m not a doctor at all.” I gestured to his shoulder.

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