Torpedo Juice полностью

Fernandez pressed the gun barrel against the passenger’s forehead. “What do you call me!”

“I’m sorry…. Scarface.”

Fernandez unconsciously touched the three-inch scar on his left cheek. “That’s better.” He put the gun away and hit the gas.

Scarface. Film Number One. There was a time when the guys had actually liked the movie, but none of them could stand it anymore. They were forced to watch it at least three times a week, the whole time Fernandez repeating lines along with Pacino to work on his accent. They didn’t think it could get any worse until the anniversary special-edition DVD came out, and they also had to watch all the bonus material on disk two.

The Mercedes turned south on a dirt road and wound its way into the swamp, finally parking under a secluded stilt house. They got out and opened the trunk.

Fernandez sniffed the air. “Did you pee in there?”

The hostage shielded his unadjusted eyes from the sunlight. “Oh, please! God! No!…”

The other three yanked the man out of the car. His legs went limp, and they had to carry him up the outside staircase. Fernandez unlocked the door. They threw him down in the middle of the room.

He sat up on the hardwood floor. A large-screen TV at one end of the room; a big oak desk with a model ship at the other. Also, watercolors and oils: fly-fishing, sunset, a woman hanging laundry in Bimini. Some of the paintings hung on the wall over a two-hundred-gallon aquarium. The hostage wasn’t looking at any of it because he was busy wiggling backward across the floor while Fernandez kicked the stuffing out of him.

“I didn’t do anything! Please! I’m begging!”

Kick.

“You idiot! You fool!” Kick. “Billy was wired for sound up in Fort Pierce.” Kick. “The feds heard every word you said!” Kick. “That’s how they got all those lovely indictments!” Kick.

“I didn’t know! I swear!”

“You’re supposed to!” Kick. “That’s what I pay you for!”

“Please!… I’ve always been loyal!…”

Fernandez shot a look to the other three men. They stepped forward and jerked the man to his feet. “No! Anything! I’ll give you money! I’ll leave the country!…”

Fernandez walked across the room to the aquarium. “Bring him here.”

“W-w-what are you going to do?”

Fernandez didn’t answer, just addressed the others in a low voice. “Give me his right arm.”

The trio tightened their grip on the struggling man. One grabbed the requested limb below the shoulder and forced it forward. Fernandez seized it by the wrist.

The man was now more confused than terrified, until he looked in the tank…. His head snapped toward Fernandez. “Piranhas?”

“You need to be taught a lesson. Not to be so stupid.”

Fernandez pulled the arm over the tank and lowered it toward the water. Fish gathered near the surface. Now the struggling really started. And the crying.

“Don’t be such a baby,” said Fernandez. “Take your punishment like a man.”

“I’ll be more careful next time! I’ve learned my lesson!”

“You have?”

The man nodded as hard as he could.

Fernandez released the arm, and the man clutched it to his chest. “You… uh… you’re not going to stick my arm in there?”

“Nah, I’ve changed my mind.”

“Oh, thank you. You won’t regret this. Thank you! Thank you!…”

“Don’t mention it.”

Fernandez suddenly grabbed the hair on the back of the man’s head and slammed his face into the tank. The water broiled and turned pink.

The rest of the crew winced and looked away but didn’t dare release their grips. Fernandez began laughing. He held the head down a good while after the resistance had stopped, then let go. The lifeless body collapsed to the floor, carotid spurting.

The crew turned green, staring in any direction other than down.

Fernandez pointed at the floor. “C’mon, look at him. It’s funny.”

They couldn’t bear it. Not without throwing up in front of Fernandez, and you definitely didn’t want to do that.

“Okay, be that way. I try to have some fun with you guys….” He walked around the oak desk and dropped down into the butterfly chair. He grabbed a cocaine mirror with one hand, a remote control with the other. “Go get some towels and clean up this mess.”

The crew headed for the door. They heard the TV come on behind them at max volume.

“I bury the cock-a-roaches.”

15

THE GANG IN the No Name Pub gave up trying to convince Sop Choppy of Scarface’s existence, and instead turned their efforts to Serge’s love life.

“I still say you should try Brenda,” said Bud. “She’s nuts about you.”

“And hot as they come,” said Rebel. “My God, any guy on this island would love to be in your shoes.”

Serge shook his head. “I told you. Something’s missing there.”

“Have you been seeing anyone else?” asked Daytona Dave.

“Thought I’d found the perfect woman this morning,” said Serge. “But it didn’t work out.”

“What happened?” asked Bud.

“He got tear-gassed,” said Coleman.

“What approach are you using?” asked Sop Choppy.

“He follows them at a distance with binoculars,” said Coleman.

“That never works,” said Bud.