Page 4 of The Tourist

Strappado is a medieval torture method I recently read about in an old book an English historian friend of mine sent me, and I’ve been looking forward to using it on someone.

Walking over to the sink, situated in one corner of the warehouse, I wash my hands and dry them on a soft, black towel while I watch what’s happening to the man. His hands are bound with rope behind his back, and a chain, hanging down from the ceiling, is attached to the bindings around his wrists.

When the man’s lifted off the floor, using the chain, he screams as the muscles and ligaments in his arms and shoulders are strained. Once he’s suspended high above us, my men look to me for my next order. With a wave of my finger, the chain is released, and the man is dropped suddenly from height. When he’s a few feet above the concrete floor, the men pull on the chain and his descent comes to an abrupt halt.

I’ve never seen this torture method used before, but I know he’ll have experienced a painful and damaging jerk to his joints when his arms took the full weight of his body. If done right, it will have dislocated his shoulders, and from the loud screams of agony filling the room, I’m guessing it’s worked.

I motion for him to be raised again.

“Who did you sell my secrets to?” I demand, holding my hand in the air, ready to indicate another sudden drop to my men.

“Go to hell!” the man screams.

Beads of sweat are now mixing with the blood on his face and dripping down onto the once white T-shirt he’s wearing.

“Are you sure that’s all you want to tell me? Next time you drop, it will break bones and pull your arms out of their sockets. You’ll be crippled for life. That is, if I decide to let you live.”

“I’m not telling you anything. We both know I’m a dead man anyway, so do whatever you want.”

I wave my finger, signaling to my men to drop him again. His blood-curdling screams ring out around the warehouse, along with the loud snapping of bones. I revel in the punishment. No one betrays me and gets away with it.

“Raise him up again,” I order.

But before I can exact the punishment for a third time, my sanctuary is breached by the sound of urgent voices and footsteps. I’m distracted when the door to the warehouse opens, and Henri, the head of Serena’s security detail, walks in. His face is ashen white.

My eyes narrow as I regard him, my anger simmering beneath the surface. This is a complete turnaround from the excitement of a few moments earlier. I don’t need to be told to know my guards have failed me.

"What is it?" My voice is cold and commanding in stark contrast with the chaos swirling inside me.

Henri steps forward, his voice hesitant but resolute. "Forgive the interruption, sir, but there has been a development. It’s Serena and her friend. They...they're missing."

My heart tightens at the mention of my sister's name. Our parents died in a plane crash over the Grand Canyon a few years ago, and Serena is the only family I have left. She’s my cherished sibling, and I’ve sworn to protect her at all costs. I’ve also known Chloe for a long time, so her safety’s important to me as well.

Serena and her best friend are like chalk and cheese—one being fair and the other dark. Chloe has always captivated me with her blonde hair and blue eyes, but as my sister’s friend, she’s strictly off limits. Now, they’re both missing and presumably in danger.

"Tell me everything," I demand, my tone brooking no prevarication.

Henri relays the circumstances surrounding their disappearance, explaining how Serena and Chloe slipped away from his security detail. Their movements were captured by the watchful eyes of surveillance cameras in the casino. The footage from the live feed shows masked men descending on the girls at the rear of the premises. They carried my sister and her friend to a waiting car and spirited them away, to gods-knows where, before Henri and his team had a chance to catch up with them.

It was only later, as my men searched for more clues, that the license plate of the car used was traced back to the man behind nearly all the missing girls in Las Vegas—Richard Armstrong. My archenemy and family's nemesis has my sister and her friend. What is still unclear is how Armstrong knew the girls were at the casino in the first place.

I’m sure this wouldn’t have happened if Felix, my second-in-command, had been on guard duty. He’s extremely vigilant, especially when it comes to my sister, but he’s had to go out of town for a few days to deal with some personal matters.

Rage boils within my veins, a storm threatening to consume me. My sister, my only remaining flesh and blood, has been taken from me by a man who frequently challenges my authority and is responsible for trafficking sex slaves. I will move heaven and earth to bring Serena and Chloe back home safely.

"Set up a search party. I want every available resource dedicated to finding them,” I command to those around me, my voice a thunderous decree that none of them would dare question. “And bring me the guards who were responsible for the girls’ safety.” I address my last comment to Henri. He knows the consequences of failure, the price to be paid for allowing harm to befall those under his protection. “They will answer for their negligence."

Next, I turn to the head of my security, Ramon. His expression is grim as he acknowledges my orders. He’s been holding the strung-up man in the air, and without a moment’s hesitation, he drops him onto the concrete floor. I don’t even hear the man’s screams of agony. Fearful of what’s happened to my sister and Chloe, the pounding in my head overrides everything else.

I watch as everyone hurriedly leaves the warehouse. Their footsteps echo in the silence that follows until a groan draws my attention back to the battered man writhing on the floor. I no longer care about what he’s done or why he’s done it. I retrieve my Glock from my jacket, cock it, and execute him with a single bullet to the skull.

Alone, I allow myself a moment of vulnerability, my facade of strength crumbling in the face of uncertainty. I grab hold of the crucifix around my neck and say a silent prayer for my sister and her friend. But then, with steely resolve, I push aside my doubts and fears and focus instead on the task at hand.

Time is of the essence, and I won’t rest until Serena and Chloe are safe. I’ll hunt down those responsible. I’ll track them to the ends of the earth if I have to, and when I find them, they’ll pay dearly for their crimes.

No one takes what’s mine to protect and lives to tell the tale.

CHAPTER3

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