The Ring Of Sheba by Mel Odom

Author:Mel Odom [Odom, Mel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-01-04T22:00:00+00:00

2.

Rat in a Trap

Pinheiro stood near a small secretarial desk on the other side of the well-appointed room. The description Ngola had gotten of the man from contacts along the dock fit the Portuguese facilitator. Overweight and soft-featured and in his forties, Pinheiro was carefully attired in a tan suit cut to hide his fatness and enhance his size. His coiffed hair and neatly trimmed beard made him look like a gentleman.

However, Ngola knew the man’s looks were deceiving. Pinheiro had his fingers in many sordid businesses, including the slave trade.

Desperately, Pinheiro pulled an ornate walking stick from a bronze umbrella stand embossed with a peacock. He whirled the stick before him in a threatening manner while he took up an awkward fencer’s pose.

“You ruffians have chosen the wrong man to rob. It’s best if you be on your way before I become violent.”

Ngola looked at Drury. “I should just shoot him in the foot.”

“We’d have to carry his fat arse if we don’t get what we need,” the Irishman replied, “and that’s something I’d rather not do today, thank you.”

Ngola stepped forward with the pistol in hand. Pinheiro closed his eyes in terror.

“Don’t kill me! Please! I beg you!”

Instead of shooting the man, Ngola grabbed the walking stick near its end and rammed it back into Pinheiro’s face. The man’s nose burst and blood ran into his mustache and beard as he stumbled backward and plopped into the chair behind the desk. Ngola held onto the walking stick once the man released his hold and grabbed for his face with both hands.

Pinheiro’s eyes widened at the sight of the blood staining his hands. “You have wounded me!”

“Cease your caterwauling or I’ll slit your throat for you as well.” Ngola advanced on the man while Drury secured the door.

Hands shaking, Pinheiro nodded in quick acquiescence. “Of course, of course. Whatever you wish, Captain Ngola. I assure you, you’ll have no more trouble from me. I’ll give you no reason to kill me. I promise I can be valuable to you.”

Ngola swapped looks with Drury, who frowned in suspicion.

“It appears we’ve netted a piece of cheese for our efforts, Captain,” the Irishman said in disgust. “There’s no other way he knew you so quickly. We’re not the only ones hunting.”

“How is it you know my name?” Ngola asked.

Above his hand clamping his nose to stem the tide of blood, Pinheiro stared fearfully at Ngola. “Why, you can be no other. You’re huge, African, with a shaven head and a short beard. And, with the scars on your face and your hands, it’s obvious you’re a fighter. I don’t have the wrong person, do I? That would be most embarrassing at this juncture.”

Drury propped a wingback chair under the doorknob. Like Ngola, he appeared certain they wouldn’t easily retreat back the way they’d come. He went to the windows and drew the curtains.

Looking very much like a rat in a trap, Pinheiro turned his attention to Drury. “What are you doing?”

Drury ignored the question and took up a position against the wall beside one of the now-covered windows.

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