Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 140940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
I considered the information, remembering that there had been a week when Blue took a short vacation. I hadn’t realized that Giorgio had been missing also.
But, did David know too?
Wassily spoke, “There is some sort of barrier up ahead.”
I caught sight of a huge green gate flanked by stone and iron.
“It is the Serpents’ first gate to their property.” Rafael turned back around. “There is one more gate after this, but the true test is if we can get into this one.”
“We must get inside.” I leaned forward. “My mouse needs this Eye.”
Continuing to look ahead, Rafael placed his hand on the dashboard and drummed a nervous rhythm with his fingers. “The Alligator Don and his gang, the Serpents have lived in this bayou all their lives. They are not used to outsiders and do not like them. Usually. . .they will beat the outsiders up and throw them in the swamp.”
I snorted. “We will have to explain to them that we are not just any outsiders.”
Valentina chuckled. “Just point to who I must kill.”
The SUV slowed to a halt in front of the gate, the headlights illuminating a worn wooden sign that read “Serpents’ Territory.”
A tall, muscular man with a shaved head and a thick beard stepped out from the shadows. He held a Glock 19 and headed over to us.
Rafael pressed the button to lower the window and spoke in French, “Hello. You must remember me. I am the one the Don says is the funny little French man.”
Bald Head bobbed his head. A rough, gravelly voice left his cracked lips. “What do you want?”
“We must see the Don.”
Bald Head tilted forward and assessed all of us in the car. “We?”
“These are my friends from Russia. They want to pay their respects as is expected of all that come to his city.”
I tried not to roll my eyes.
Everyone thinks they control a city, until I come around and take it from them.
Bald Head directed his gaze to all the SUVs behind us. “None of them can come through the gates. Just this vehicle.”
Rafael nodded. “Understood. We only need a few of us to pay our respects.”
Bald Head grunted and glanced at each of us one more time before stepping aside and motioning for us to pass.
I looked at Tisha. “Tell our men to stay out here, but be ready to storm through any gate, if they don’t hear from us in twenty minutes.”
Nodding, he took out his phone. “I will remain mindful of the time.”
The gate creaked open.
As we drove through, the sounds of the swamp became more prominent—buzzing insects, hooting owls, and chirping of frogs and crickets.
I glanced over my shoulder.
Ten men materialized from the shadows behind the wall. As expected, each man cradled a lethal weapon—assault rifles, sidearms, and more Glock pistols.
Rafael spoke, “There should not be a problem where your men will need to storm through the gates—”
“If he does not give me this Eye, then I will kill him, his serpents, frogs, and anything else he loves.”
Tisha laughed.
“The Don is backed by the Cartel.” Rafael eyed me. “My understanding is that you have been lucky enough to not have many dealings with them—”
“No. Let me correct you.” I glared. “They have been lucky enough not having had to deal with me.”
“If we kill his people, the Cartel will come to investigate.”
No longer laughing, Tisha turned my way. “While I am not a fan of this pansy, he does have a point.”
“Does he?”
“If your mouse and sons were not here, then I would have boldly said let the Cartel come.” Tisha shrugged. “However. . .they are here. And if the Cartel comes, your sons, your fiancé. . .well. . .they will be the first targets.”
I gritted my teeth.
Wassily drove us further down the winding road, each turn revealing more of the Serpents’ territory. It was a sprawling compound of shacks and huts, some of which were built on stilts above the water. Each dwelling was unique, constructed from a mismatch of weather-beaten timber, corrugated iron, and what seemed like salvaged scraps. Yet there was an unmistakable uniformity to them all.
The second gate appeared.
Once we approached, it automatically opened.
When we passed over the threshold, two groups of heavily armed men watched us with suspicion and hostility burning in their eyes. Many were draped in loose, earth-toned attire that blended with the swamp’s surroundings.
Finally, we arrived in front of a massive wooden structure, more so a huge compound than house, stretching out into the depths of the swampy wilderness. A behemoth birthed by nature and raised by men, it stood defiant in the heart of the bayou.
Towering wooden walls wrapped around the compound, like an intimidating shell safeguarding everyone within.
No conventional lights illuminated this fortress. Instead, large, ferocious fires blazed in strategically placed pits. Their flickering glow danced on the murky waters surrounding the compound.