Executioner 95 Blood and Thunder by Don pendleton

Author:Don pendleton
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

10

Armando Salviche was sick and tired of standing around with his hands jammed into the pant pockets of his Yves Saint-Laurent suit. Salviche had already been there with Damien Bozzarelli and their combined muscle for more than a day, and still no smack. Didn't Engels know Salviche and Bozzarelli and the boys were no small-timers? They sure as hell didn't need to be wasting their valuable time in some armpit of the world, watching Engels and his hard guys strutting around like peacocks, snapping out orders at big-time, megabuck-making drug kings.

Just what the hell was this? Salviche swore viciously to himself.

Shit, the druglord thought, one fat pinkie skillfully picking at the inside of a cocaine-inflamed nostril. He wondered why these CIA hotshots didn't have any respect? Hell, Salviche swore, he made it the hard way. Scratching. Clawing. Kicking ass over half of New York. He hit pay dirt, and here he was, top dog, waiting, sweating his ass off and ruining a three-hundred-dollar suit. Damn, he should be back in Manhattan even now. In fact, he better be back there by tonight.

With about a dozen fat white liners laid out in front of him.

"Hey, Armando. Snap out of it. What you doing—daydreaming?"

Salviche looked across the large, Spartan room at John Engels. Hotshot CIA killer, the drug lord thought. Such a hotshot he's gotta hide out in no-man's-land and surround himself with a bunch of crazy gringo cabrones who can't show their stinking selves in the real world, either. He wished he could pull his piece and waste them all right there. That goddamn smack belonged to him.

Again, Salviche glanced around the CIA quarters. The short, stocky Bozzarelli sat next to Salviche. The Italian druglord appeared very nervous, and Salviche could understand that. Bozzarelli had a deadly fear of snakes, and as if to taunt or perhaps feed Bozzarelli's

paranoia, Engels had four large glass cages filled with the biggest, fattest rattlesnakes Salviche had ever seen.

Spartan furnishings, sure, Salviche thought sarcastically, if you didn't mind sleeping in a den of vipers.

It was crazy, he told himself. So damn crazy. They were all crazy!

Salviche and Bozzarelli had each brought along four gunmen just in case pure mean crazy turned into all hell breaking loose. Salviche had heard about Maraquez and Diablo down in Miami—the poor, stinking slobs. He'd met the two several times, running with them up and down the East Coast, searching out hustlers, creating, then working their own pipeline.

But Maraquez and Diablo had gotten greedy. Salviche always knew he couldn't trust those two out of his sight. Besides, he thought, they were just hard to work with, bitching about this, whining about that. To top it off, they were pigs. And like pigs, they had gotten fat, and worse, gotten caught, been ready to squeal to the Feds about the pipeline. But instead of finding two punks ready to drag down everybody, and that included himself, Salviche realized, what the Feds found were two wide-eyed, deaf, dumb and blind pigs. Deaf,

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.