Scarcity (Jack Randall #3) (25 page)

“We move her in a few hours. Get your head straight.”

“I’ll be ready,” was all he replied.

Armando launched himself to his feet and with a disgusted last look at him walked to the bathroom with his beer. Carlos just nursed his slowly. It wasn’t the first time they’d had this problem. The solution was simple.

•      •      •

A few hours later Anita found herself once again bound, gagged, and tied to the board. They had said next to nothing to her this time and despite the smell of his cologne, she had not heard the voice of the young one. Her mind struggled to understand what was taking place as the stiff board bounced roughly across the floor of the van. She heard them talking plainly now and even using their names to address one another. She didn’t know what to make of it. She cried out through the gag as she and the board were roughly kicked back to the side of the van and held there with a boot. The van lurched through more turns and potholes, bouncing her head sharply against the board. The men talked of what they saw out the windows as the van slowed and turned into a driveway.

“Around back. Get close to the door.”

“Can’t we walk her in? Those stairs are a bitch.”

“I don’t care. Just untie her feet. Leave the gag and her hands tied.”

The van swayed as the driver made a quick stop before reversing the transmission and backing toward the building. The sounds of several dogs barking could be heard as they got closer, announcing their arrival.

“That’s good,” the younger one spoke from his position at the back window.

Her heart leaped to hear his voice. Despite the fact that he was one of her kidnappers, he had shown her kindness and she took small comfort in his presence.

The doors opened with a bang barely heard over the din of the multiple dogs. She smelled the presence of the animals and wondered where they had brought her.

A moment of panic gripped her as the older one grabbed her by the throat and spoke into her ear.

“We’re cutting you loose to walk inside. If you try anything we’ll be forced to kill you. Do you understand?”

Anita managed the smallest of nods against her restraints. Another kidnapper snorted and stifled a laugh.

Knives clicked open and the tape and straps were quickly gone. Two of them yanked her to the edge of the van and she was stood up on wobbly legs. A heavy door opened and the smell of animals entered her nose. The barking got louder as she was walked inside. She heard the banging of cages as the animals jumped against them.

“Shut the hell up!” Carlos yelled. The barking continued.

“Right here. Open the door.”

Another door creaked open and she heard one of them descend a set of stairs.

“Step down,” she heard as they pushed her forward.

One of them held her from behind by her bound hands as she felt her way slowly down the stairs with her feet. The smell of bleach met her nose and the noise abated some as the door was shut behind them. Bright light penetrated the blindfold around the edges and she heard the sounds of metal on metal. They waited and Anita’s fear ratcheted up in the silence. The metal on metal sound continued, like kitchen utensils dropping in a pan. It finally stopped and a new set of footsteps approached. The gag was pulled roughly from her mouth.

“How much do you weigh?” the new voice asked. It was older, and cold, with no emotion.

“I . . . I don’t . . .”

“How much do you weigh?” he asked again.

“Six . . . sixty kilos.”

Some more sounds she could not identify filled her ears and she started to cry. The hands holding her arms grew tight and she felt her arm exposed once again where the sleeve was torn. The sting of the needle made her cry out, but this time no one hushed her. The needle’s sting changed as she felt a cold liquid enter her arm.

The light around the blindfold quickly faded.

Julio watched with distain as his partners caught the girl and lifted her onto the stainless steel table. He hated this place and the man who occupied it. They called him The Butcher, and the man was evil personified. From what little he knew, the man was a former surgeon who had lost his license after he was found molesting his patients, or killing too many of them on the table, depending on who you talked to. He’d developed a drug habit and was now an unlicensed veterinarian. Somehow he had come to be on the cartel payroll. It was not the first time they had come here, and Julio had been shocked at the man’s demeanor. He showed no emotion whatsoever, other than to smile when they paid him.

He watched silently as the man arranged her on the table just so, placing her head in a block and deftly inserting an IV in her arm before reaching up and adjusting the light overhead. He placed an oxygen mask over her face and it soon clouded with condensation from her heavy breathing. The tray full of instruments gleamed on the table, and the man quickly tied a plastic apron around his waist before reaching out a gloved hand for a pair of syringes. He held up the first one to the light and examined it, speaking one word as he did so.

“Out.”

They needed no encouragement and quickly left via the stairs. Julio took one last look at her blindfolded face lying on the table before swallowing and closing the door behind him.

The Butcher looked down on the young girl on the table before him as he injected the large dose of Heparin. He reached out and pulled the blindfold from her face. Seeing her beauty, he cupped and stroked her face before letting his eyes travel down her still form. If he had more time he would have enjoyed her body before performing the feat he had been hired to do. But time was short. The dose of Etomidate he had given her would only keep her unconscious for a few minutes. It was time to get to work.

Attaching the large syringe to the IV catheter, he slowly withdrew a large quantity of her blood. He then carefully mixed the blood with a crystalloid IV solution until he had a four-to-one ratio. To this he added forty milliequivalents of potassium before setting it aside in an ice bath. A simple recipe for cardioplegia.

Fetching a large pair of scissors from the tray he cut the tape from her wrists and let her arms fall to the side. Working in steps, he soon had the sweatshirt sliced free and her bra also removed, exposing her bare breasts to the bright light. Another pause while he gazed at her form before he grabbed a bottle of Betadine from the tray and coated her entire chest with it. Her muscles twitched at the cold fluid and he cursed his carelessness while searching for the syringe.

He quickly injected 200mg of Succinylcholine in her IV. It would take a moment, but she would soon be paralyzed. He couldn’t have her moving around while he worked.

•      •      •

Cold. Anita’s brain slowly awoke and this was the first message she received. Something cold was on her. A liquid. On her chest and running down both sides of her to pool under her back. Hard. Something hard was holding her head. She moved to open her eyes and they slowly obeyed to let in a blinding light. She automatically closed them. Where was she? The last thing she remembered was the bleach smell, and there was a man. A new voice.

She tried to raise her hand to block out the light, but it refused to move. Odd. She tried again with no success. The more her mind woke, it seemed her body refused to follow. With a start, she realized she couldn’t feel her legs. She attempted to say something, but the breath required to do so was being drawn too slowly.

What was happening to her?

Her eyes slowly opened without her willing them to and she saw the shape of a man standing over her. She clearly heard the snap as he put on a pair of gloves. The bleach smell was strong in her nose. The dogs were still barking.

Who is he? What was he doing to her?

She was quickly both confused and terrified and attempted to take a breath in order to scream. It would not come. She willed her body to draw a breath, but it still refused to respond. Panic griped her, but she seemed frozen in place.

•      •      •

The three of them paced up and down the hallway while the dogs continued to bark halfheartedly at them. Carlos stopped to blow smoke through the bars of the cage and into the face of one particularly loud dog. It silenced him for a few seconds only. He smiled at the dog’s anger before taking one last drag and crushing the butt under his boot on the tile floor.

Julio leaned against the wall with a sigh that drew the attention of Armando.

“It’s done, get over it.”

Julio met his gaze before letting himself slide down the wall to sit on the cold tile. The gun in his belt stabbed him in the ribs, and he drew it out and placed it on the floor beside him.

“I’m fine. Leave me alone.”

Armando eyeballed the gun before exchanging a look with Carlos.

“Okay.”

He lit another cigarette.

•      •      •

The Butcher noticed the slowing of her breathing as the succinylcholine took hold. It was a short-term paralytic. He had a few minutes at best, but that would be more than enough. He noted the pulse from her distended carotid artery speeding up. Too soon for oxygen deprivation, perhaps she was waking up? It didn’t really matter either way.

He pulled the scalpel from the tray and made a quick incision down her chest, exposing her sternum. The blood flowed freely and he ignored it as he grabbed the sternal saw. He fired it once with a loud screech before placing it in the incision. Applying steady pressure, he began sawing through the girl’s ribcage.

•      •      •

No! Her mind screamed it repeatedly, but her body refused to save itself. Run! Fight! Scream! All of her thoughts fell away as she stared at the man’s face not inches from her own. Her heart pounded in her chest in protest, but the pain was the only feeling she had. She had no choice but to watch this man as he killed her. The pain in her chest increased sharply as her heart began to protest the lack of oxygen. The smell of her own blood and bone overpowered the scent of bleach in her nose. What was he doing to her?! Why can’t she move?! He finished sawing and her ribs popped as he inserted a rib spreader and quickly cranked the handle. The pain was like nothing she had ever encountered before. Her vision began to tunnel as her body used up the last reserves of oxygen provided by her killer. Daddy help me! The pain kept her awake long enough to see the large clamp in his hand before the tunnel collapsed and her life ended with it.

•      •      •

The Butcher was moving quickly now as time was the enemy. He quickly clamped off the aorta followed by the superior and inferior vena cava’s. Silently cursing the absence of a surgical tech, he fetched the cardioplesia from the ice bath and injected it into the aortic root. The girl’s heart quivered in protest before quickly lying still. He grabbed a small basin of sterile ice and unceremoniously dumped it into the chest cavity. Pulling two suction catheters free he was forced to use his elbow to turn them on before jamming one each in on either side of the heart. He stepped back and forced himself to slow down before again picking up the scalpel.

Working carefully and drawing on a diagram he had committed to memory, the Butcher severed first the aorta. After repositioning a suction catheter he quickly followed with the superior vena cava and then the inferior vena cava. The cuts had to be precise. If the cuts did not look professional, it could arouse suspicion. Working steadily, he soon freed the pulmonary arteries and vein, disconnecting the heart from the lungs. Better able to rotate the heart now, he was forced again by the lack of help to hold the heart in place while he severed some connecting tissue. Once free, the heart flopped into his waiting hand and he carefully removed it from the girl’s chest. The suction catheters gurgled loudly as they worked to remove the pool of blood and melted ice from her now empty chest. He ignored it as he checked the heart over thoroughly for any damage he may have caused. All appeared as it should be. The heart was cold, flaccid, still, and decompressed. He moved over to the organ machine and placed it in the tray of cold saline. He made the necessary connections and adjustments before filling the reservoir with blood and closing the lid. The heart was ready. He turned the machine on and watched it circulate the fluid for a moment until he was sure everything was functioning as it should. Only then did he turn back to the girl on the table.

He wasn’t finished yet.

•      •      •

Julio watched them both as they crushed out another round of cigarettes. Evidently they didn’t care if they messed up the Butcher’s clean floor. Typical.

“How long?”

“Couple more minutes. He has more to do this time, remember?”

“Yeah . . . forgot.”

Julio ignored them and put his elbows on his knees and his hands over his ears. He couldn’t stand the barking of the dogs coupled with the words of his partners anymore.

A loud banging was heard from behind the door. The dogs raised the volume in reply. Julio pressed his hands tighter and closed his eyes in a futile attempt to block it all out.

•      •      •

The Butcher ignored the flying tissue splattering across his apron and repositioned the Lebsche knife for another blow from the mallet. It was harder than he had expected, and the misuse was not doing justice to the knife, but he soon had what he needed lying on the table. He gathered them up and deposited them in an ordinary Ziploc bag before adding some ice and sealing it. Stripping off the bloody gloves, he placed the baggie on the machine and picked them both up. A kick on the door at the top of the stairs prompted one of them to open it. The scene was not what he expected.

Armando stood before him, brandishing a large handgun in his fist.

Julio raised his head when he heard the door open to see the Butcher holding the machine. The plastic bag on top threatened to slide off but the man’s attention seemed to be elsewhere. Following his gaze, he saw Armando holding a gun aimed at his head. His hand automatically searched the floor next to him until it dawned on him that the gun was his. Armando cocked his head as he watched the expressions move across Julio’s face. His lips parted into an evil grin and his rotten teeth were the last thing Julio saw before Armando pulled the trigger.