Page 74 of Damned
Chapter Thirty-Two
Kruze heard them before he saw them. Two loud-mouthed imbeciles arguing from the mid-size hovercraft now skimming the shallows on his side of the churning river. They were making enough noise, he could hear them over the hovercraft’s engine and the river.
Kruze was looking through the dark black lenses of Vick’s sunglasses, a sweet pair of Ray-ban Aviators. He’d already stashed Vick’s rifle, and popped two antibiotic tablets, hoping they’d take the edge off the disorienting buzz in his head. Fever had a good hold on him, and he needed to rest more than anything. But first… Kruze needed to end two of the three men in that hovercraft. Maybe all of them.
He lifted a hand in greeting to get the pilot’s attention. With a single nod, the guy steered Kruze’s way. He was slender and young, maybe twenty-something, dressed in Carhartt-brown cold-weather gear, a red ball cap, and dark glasses with reflective rainbow lenses. The logo of a local white-water rafting company sat high on the kid’s jacket sleeve. Maine Extreme River Tours. That cinched it. The kid would live.
Once he powered down, the hovercraft was still in shallow water. Didn’t matter. The eager bastards behind him clambered over the side and jumped into knee-deep, ice-water. Dumb asses. Waterproof rubber boots would’ve been smart, but both Berfendeand Josephus had chosen style over common sense. They half-stumbled, half-walked toward the rocky shore.
Kruze stuck his chin at the pilot and called out, “Thanks for ferrying these gentlemen out here today. No need to stay for the return trip. I’m flying them out. Have a good day.”
Relief washed over the young man’s face. Without a word, he maneuvered the hovercraft into an abrupt reverse, stepped on the gas, and hightailed it back downriver.
Kruze sized up the men wading to shore, needing the next few minutes to play out in his favor, with them thinking they were in charge. Berfendewas wearing a name-brand, fleece-lined jacket over black designer jeans and fancy black suede boots. He had no weapons on him, as far as Kruze could see. Not that he thought the general was harmless, but Berfendedidn’t stand out like his glow-in-the-dark companion.
Josephus wore a bright-yellow, glow-in-the-dark ski jacket, the kind made of slippery nylon fabric that hissed with every step he took. It’d surely keep his upper body warmer than Berfende, but it would also alert every wild creature within spitting distance that a walking buffet had come into the forest. Josephus’ dress slacks and trendy leather boots portrayed the same ego as Berfende’s.
Kruze extended a gloved hand in welcome and addressed the sour-faced bastard who’d just stepped on shore. “General Berfende. Pleased to meet you. I’m Damon Vick. Harvey Lantz said you were coming. Glad you made it.”
Berfendestalked past Kruze with his chin up, ignored the handshake, and headed for the pines. Once there, he sat down with both legs spread and stared at Josephus. Who promptly ran to his general and knelt at his feet, unzipped his boots, and poured the water out. It was comical, the arrogance of some men, the stupidity of others. But a guy couldn’t cure stupid, and Kruze didn’t have time to waste.
“You gentlemen didn’t bring any gear, any drinking water with you?” he asked loudly, knowing damned well it would tweak Berfende’s pride.
Worked like a charm. Berfendebristled, shoved his soaking wet foot into the boot Josephus had just emptied, nearly knocking him on his butt. “You will address me as General Berfende!”
Kruze raised both hands, placating the tyrant. “Sure. No problem. General Berfendeit is.”Mental note: Not guys, not asshats, just a fake rank. Got it, you lying bastard.
“We were not told we needed gear,” Berfendecontinued angrily.
“Mr. Lantz said that you would take care of everything,” Josephus added, his voice whiny and weaselly, his eyes the same. The man had a wide, fat nose. Made him look cross-eyed.
“Where is she?” Berfenderoared. “Where is the American woman, Brianna Banks? I do not see her, and why did you dismiss our transportation without my approval? I will have you burned alive for that.”
Josephus leaned into Berfendeas if to offer a word of advice, but Berfendecut him off. Shoving Josephus aside, he climbed to his feet and declared, “Know your place, Mr. Vick. I rule. You do not. Bring her to me now.” He stuck his finger at the rocks at his feet.
Kruze crossed both arms over his chest and stared Berfendedown. His face was tanned and wrinkled. His eyes were dark and deeply set. He was tall and lean, gray-haired and maybe around fifty years old. It was hard to tell. Life was hard in Eastern Anatolia, and it showed. He could’ve been in his mid-thirties.
Josephus was everything Berfendewas not. His complexion was smooth, but sallow. He had tiny pig-eyes, was heavier, paunchy, and he couldn’t seem to hold still. His fingers rolled into fists then splayed like they were hurting. Maybe he had arthritis. Kruze hoped they hurt like sons of bitches. “Sorry, General, but—”
“General Berfende! Not just general! Where is she? I was told you’d have her collared and leashed by the time I arrived.”
Kee-rist! The need to put a fist in this guy’s pretentious face was strong. Instead, Kruze rolled his shoulder and let discretion rule—for now. “Yes, of course, General Berfende. My apologies. You’re right. I should’ve had Ms. Banks on her knees by now, but Mr. Lantz thought it’d be better if I took you to her. As far as the hovercraft you came in on, I’ve made arrangements for a helicopter to take you back to New York. It’ll be quicker. I figured you’d want to leave as soon as you had Banks. Right this way.”
He gestured toward the basalt columns hidden by the forest, knowing full well Berfendecouldn’t see beyond the wall of trees. There was no helicopter, and the only way these two asshats were leaving Maine was in body bags. Or not. Bears were hungry scavengers. They needed a snack.
Berfende’s chin came up, his nose with it. For the time being he was mollified. Kruze walked at his side until they were deep in the forest. He circumvented Vick’s location, knowing Chance was either already there, or soon would be.
As they walked, Berfendeand Josephus talked to each other in their language, one Kruze didn’t understand well enough to know what they were saying. He kept both men to his right, opposite his injured side. He didn’t need them noticing any blood that might be leaking. So far, the antibiotic hadn’t done squat, and Kruze worried. Black shadows dogged at his peripheral now, and every step grew harder and heavier. His body ached, and it wouldn’t be long before he stumbled or fell. He needed this job done.
Pagan should’ve gotten Bree out of that cave by now. If everything went as planned, they might already be at his place. Pagan would make sure she ate and rested. She might already be taking a warm shower. But if things hadn’t gone smoothly…?
Kruze shook that possibility off. He refused to second guess the simple task Pagan had been given. He trusted his brothers. The Sin Boys were Sullivan’s right-hand men for a reason.
But not knowing for sure she was taken care of, was hard. Kruze couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. That would kill him. Swallowing the knot in his throat, Kruze aimed for the basalt wall, listening to Josephus’ and Berfende’s boots squish while they plotted and schemed. Kruze was sure they were talking about him, that they planned to kill him.
Let them try.
After a solid hour of hiking, they arrived at the bottom of the wall. It was an awesome natural spectacle. As expected, Berfende’s hands went to his hips, and his head tipped back as he glared all the way up those fantastic, basalt columns. Which looked more like black turrets, now that Kruze thought about it. Basalt turrets guarding a basalt castle wherein a fairy princess lived, guarded by her brave and loyal golden dragon. Maybe dragons.And what the hell?
