Page 284 of Sticks and Stones
“So tell me, Truck, before we start beating the intel out of you, who is the supplier and how do they get the men?” he asked.
The man said nothing.
“Maybe an easier question, then,” he said. “How many men have been taken?” he asked.
Gene was heating the metal until it was red, and he suspected the man would talk then.
“I don’t know,” Truck said.
Well, look at that. Raymond Archer was starting to get worried enough to talk to them.
“Where is everyone?” Truck asked, staring at Gene the whole time.
Ethan shared.
Because sharing was caring.
“The CIA has them, and they’re getting ready to be shipped to Gitmo where the Marines take their time,” he stated. “You know. Like you guys did to that cop—who lived, by the way.”
Again, the man spit at him.
This time, he hit his vest.
“Fucking half-breed. We should have never let you fucking leave when you were in our bar!”
The spitting was annoying, but it was the‘half-breed’that really pissed Gene off.
That was the second time they’d said it, and now, he was officially done.
Instead of saying anything, he turned the man’s head by grabbing a handful of his hair and shoved the red-hot ring into his face.
Truck screamed as it was burned into his cheek.
“Oh, Raymond,” Ethan said. “My partner here doesn’t like when you say that about me. I mean, it’s true, but pointing it out like that…not a good plan.”
Gene set him free, and went back to heating up the ring a second time.
“I dare him to say it again,” Gene stated. “When anyone talks shit about my significant other, I get spicy as fuck. That video and your comments make me angsty,” he stated.
Truck was saying nothing.
When Ethan stepped down on the man’s balls, trapped under his boot, he whimpered. It was when he borderline crushed them that he broke.
“I’ll talk!” he said, as Gene kept heating up the ring. Truck’s face was raw where it had been burned.
That was going to leave a mark—much like it had on Corbin.
Twice.
“Who gets you the drugs to pack into the mules?” he asked, again. “We know you drug up the men and use them, and while they’re still high, you make them swallow the balloons.”
The man shrugged.
“We don’t know his name. We never know where he’ll have us go. He texts from a burner phone. He drops the drugs, and he gives us a location of where the men are. It’s usually some abandoned city building. We go, bring them to the bar, have some fun, and then feed them the balloons before transporting them to a buyer. We don’t find out the next step until the previous one is finished.”
Ethan needed a way to track the person behind this. So far, they were being very careful.
“How do you get paid? Does he wire you the money?” he asked, now having confirmation it was a man.
