Today’s excerpt is from Adios,
Amigos, Book #9 of the nine-book Asps Series. Drew scares a man to death and Pepper spray
paints a message for the terrorists. Enjoy
and have a wonderful day.
m.j.
When Drew and
Boris were certain they had gotten all the man knew, though they did find it
hard to believe he had no idea his employers were al-Qaida, Boris just
nodded. Drew took out his weapon as he
told the man to kneel in front of him.
The trembling manager did as told and Drew told him if he had a God, now
would be a good time to pray to him.
When he realized Drew was about to kill him, he sobbed for his
life. Drew shook his head. “Too late for that. You made your deal with the devil—now is your
last chance to make amends with your God.”
The man shook
his head and continued to tremble and cry as Drew pointed the Asp at him. When Drew started to squeeze the trigger, the
man’s eyes grew wide as he waited to die.
Just before squeezing the trigger to the point of firing the weapon,
Drew moved it just slightly, but enough so that when the weapon fired, the
bullet just grazed the manager’s ear.
Then man shuddered as he fell over on the floor. Drew cocked his head to one side, then bent
down to feel the man’s pulse. “I’ll be
damned…he’s dead. Now there’s a
first—actually scared the poor fella to death.
Hell, I was just planning on turning him. Wanted him frightened enough he would have no
thoughts of informing the terrorists of who we were.”
Boris
nodded. “Yes, I had the same idea. Refreshing to know we are still on the same
page, old friend. Like you, I have never
in my life seen anyone actually die from fright. He’s actually dead?”
Drew
shrugged. “Yeah. First time I ever saw someone actually die of
fright. Well, nothing to do about it
now. Pepper, do you have your trusty can
of spray paint in the heap of a car Edgar drove?”
“Yup. Let me go get it.”
Pepper returned
with her spray paint. She asked, “Any
druthers on the message?”
“Nada,” answered
Drew.
Edgar had taken
the entire episode in. He couldn’t
believe what he had just seen, but figured the man was probably better off dead
if he was such a coward—and also a fool for not having made any calls after
what he’d heard. As those thoughts were
running through his mind, Pepper spray-painted, “Pancho Villa lives.”
Drew asked,
“What in the hell is that supposed to mean, Pepper? Nobody down here will know who in the hell
Pancho Villa is after all this time since he lived.”
“Who cares?”
No comments:
Post a Comment