Luca

The address some village outside of Cartagena in Colombia.

“I would wish you luck but it’d be pointless. He’s throwing one of his special ‘parties’ tomorrow night and she’s his prize for the guests. Although I think he’ll be sampling her himself before then.”

He sat back in his chair still grimacing and moaning about the knife in his hand.

I nodded over to my men, they knew my next move and they knew what they had to do. I ripped the blade out of his hand and with my other hand I grabbed his head. Then I dragged that bloody blade heavily across his neck, putting him down like the animal he was. Blood sprayed out across the desk but the gurgle of his last breath didn’t fill me with the satisfaction I usually felt ridding the world of one more evil fucker.

Marco had grabbed the man closest to him and used his classic headlock and twist to break the fucker’s neck. Vinnie was strangling another with his own AK 47 and Leo had stabbed the last guy in the side of the neck with a knife he had stashed in his boot.

Seconds later I swung the door open and ordered my men to shoot to kill, no man would go free from this warehouse and the building would be burnt to the ground. Nothing would remain of Sanchez and his vile dirty business. Any women or children found in the caravans would be taken to a safe house and dealt with accordingly.

“I need a plane and I need to be in the air now.”

I shouted as my men got to work destroying every last inch of this evil. Marco dialled a close associate who had access to a private jet for us to use. I was about to embark on the most important mission of my life and failure was not an option.

Part Two – Chapter 28

Luca

The last time I went up against pure evil things didn’t quite work out the way I’d wanted...that wouldn’t ever happen again.

14 years ago…

“Please Al I didn’t mean to do it, it was an accident I just….”

Bang…thump…thud

I could hear my Mother and Father arguing downstairs. I should have figured out that things wouldn’t change moving into the new house. Most nights were spent blocking out their rows, or rather my Father’s shouting followed by my Mother’s cries. I’d usually end up in Freddie’s bed hugging him and trying to distract him by reading a story or talking to him about his day.

Tonight sounded particularly brutal and from the crashing noises coming from downstairs I guessed things had gone from verbal to physical pretty quickly. I looked across at Freddie; luckily he was spark out, fast asleep and oblivious to world war three breaking out downstairs.

I heard a woman’s cry followed by a whimper. I was so sick and tired of my Father bullying my Mum and beating on her. He was at least twice her size, it just didn’t seem fair. I threw back the bed covers and crept out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

The whimpers were growing quieter now but I could hear my Father grunting and huffing. I tip toed off the last step and walked over to the kitchen door and what I saw would stay with me until the day I died.

My Father was sat astride my Mother, his belt wrapped around her neck as he pulled it tighter and tighter. She was facing me and her eyes were bulging out of her head as her lips turned blue and her breathing changed to a gurgle then a rattle. Her body started to shake as my Father used every last bit of energy he could to pull on that belt. Then I knew for sure she was gone. The light had left her eyes, her face took on a mask like quality. I gasped and my Father turned to see me watching his evil deeds.

“What the fuck do you think you’re looking at boy?” He spat at me like I was the one in the wrong.

I couldn’t speak and I couldn’t take my eyes off my beautiful Mum lying lifeless on the floor. I noticed a gash on her forehead where he must have hit her with something. Why did he do that? Why would he want to hurt my Mum? She was the kindest person I knew; kinder than any of my friend’s Mums. But that didn’t seem to matter to my Father. The fact an angel had graced his life and stood by him through thick and thin was of no consequence. Once she stepped even an inch out of line; burnt the dinner, forgot the sugar in his coffee or rearranged the living room in a way he didn’t like, she would be for it. He’d beaten her so badly before now she’d had to use sun glasses when she went out. She never visited the doctor or the hospital but I know he broke her bones too. My Father was the worst of all mankind and I hated him.

“Well don’t just stand there like an idiot, even though you are one.” He smirked, “Help me clean up this goddamn mess.”

The Goddamn mess he referred to was my Mother’s fragile body. The man who called himself my Father expected me to help him pick up her dead body, covered with a table cloth and carry it to his pick-up truck. The only positive thing I could hang on to was that Freddie was still asleep. He hadn’t been touched by the evil that was our Father tonight.

Once he’d thrown her into the back like a piece of garbage he stalked back towards the house and then veered to the side before emerging holding a spade.

“Get in.” He barked and I jumped into the passenger side of the truck, never daring to look at my Father. I feared I might be his next victim.

We drove for about an hour into thick woodland, my Father turned the truck off the road and drove across wasteland until he came to a clearing. He kept the headlights on to illuminate the area but shut the engine off.

I jumped back out again at the same time as he did. He grabbed the spade and threw it at me. I caught it but my hands were shaking so much I could barely grip the handle. My palms were sweaty and my mind was racing from the fear and rush of adrenaline. My Father reached behind him and pulled out a hand gun. He pointed it at me as if I was a wild animal he was hunting.

“Now dig and make it fast. I need to be out of her before sunrise.”

He sat down on the hood of the truck as I started to dig up the cold hard ground.

“Well put your back into it boy, we haven’t got all night.” He called out to me irritably.