A Deadly Climax
Chapter 42
The guard at the backdoor had made a fatal mistake by turning his back, leaving him vulnerable to an attack from behind. Amar snuck up on him in the darkness and looped the prayer beads around his neck and pulled them tightly with all his might. Despite having performed the ritualistic killing many times before, it was never easy. The victim would invariably put up a struggle until the last breath left his lungs. The execution was expedited by Amar placing a hand over his nose and mouth, burking him until he was lifeless. It was a silent, effective method of killing since a victim couldn’t yell for help because he was too chocked up to do so. Jimmy Boonchai was blindsided and never saw what was coming.
Kris dabbed more Georgio Armani cologne on his face, especially under the nose to counter the stench hanging over the mortuary like a noxious cloud. He couldn’t understand how Albert tolerated the smell since it was not only his place of work, but his home as well.
He’d tailed Dick Avery from the hotel to the mortuary, being especially cautious not to be seen by his adversary. They’d face each other soon enough. He let himself in through the back door using a key he’d made an impression of during a previous visit. The mortuary was large and he easily found a hiding place in the storeroom among the tools and detritus of Albert’s morbid trade. There he waited quietly to confront his nemesis.
Albert had ordered out Chinese, Szechwan to be exact. Dick told him to go easy on the spices for his meal, but Wu couldn’t get enough of the hot ingredients which originated in his home province of the same name. The delivery man was now knocking on the door and Albert answered the call for food. He was famished and his stomach had been growling for food awhile. He ordered a double portion for himself, realizing he’d be hungry in an hour. He looked forward to opening the fortune cookies, fooling himself into believing in their prognostications of the fame and fortune awaiting him. Albert didn’t care which way the cookie crumbled as long as it wasn’t in his direction. Bad luck or bad karma, both were to be avoided in his superstitious mind.
Kris made his move using the brief interruption to kill Dick. Believing Albert was a loyal partner, he would have all the time in the world to apply a bit of torture before the killing. There was an assortment of instruments at his disposal and his imagination would do the rest. It would be slow and painful, regardless. He looked forward to listening to Dick Avery screaming in agony and pleading for mercy. Of course, there would be none.
He stealthily approached the back of Dick’s chair just as Albert returned to the room with the food.
Dropping the meals, Albert yelled out to Dick to watch his back, but there wasn’t enough time for him to reach down and draw the gun from his ankle holster. He instantly knew he’d made a mistake as he generally secreted it down the front of his pants for a much quicker draw. He’d finally succumbed to his fellow agents teasing about accidentally shooting off his given name. It turned out to be a huge mistake.
As Kris was about to plunge the kris into Dick’s back, Albert ran between the two and struggled with the knife. That momentarily surprised Amar, but he swiftly turned the weapon on Albert instead, stabbing him twice in the right shoulder. It seemed Albert hadn’t turned tail, only turned his back on him, his loyal partner and coconspirator. Who could you trust these days? He wondered.
Albert moved a few steps back and was cursing in Mandarin. The confusion allowed Dick to draw his gun and he fired one shot into Amar’s forearm, the one holding the knife. He couldn’t miss given the short distance.
The slug from his Smith .357 magnum revolver was a 110 grain, jacketed hollow point that mushroomed upon contact with flesh or bone. It’d likely shattered all of the bones in Amar’s arm. He’d fallen to the floor clutching his bad arm with his good one and crying like a baby as thugs and bullies tended to do.
I’d only winged him and that was my intent, Dick spoke to himself. He planned to give him a dose of his own medicine by applying a righteous, Christian bible belt to Amar’s neck.
Albert had regained some of his composure, but his ears were still ringing from the sound of the loud gunshot. He pulled himself onto a chair and watched what Dick Avery was about to do. He couldn’t believe Dick could be so cruel despite his obvious hatred of Kris. He then became a true believer.
Dick slowly removed his belt and placed it loosely around Amar’s neck. Albert laughed through his pain when his trousers dropped to his ankles. He was wearing white boxer shorts covered with little red hearts!
“Okay Kris, the last time we met we played a little game of hide and seek. But you cheated. No cheating this time because you don’t have someone to bail you out of this jam. I know you like playing games so this time it will be Truth or Dare. However, I’m changing some of the rules to my advantage. I hope you don’t mind. Whether you do or not, nod your head if you understand the rules of the game.”
Kris did so.
“First question: do you consider yourself to be a brave, loyal mujahedeen soldier?”
Kris nodded his head in the affirmative.
“Sorry, wrong answer, Kris. You’re nothing but an intolerant zealot who believes there’s only one true religion to the exclusion of all others; just a miserable, misanthropic bigot.”
Dick tightened the noose causing Kris to gag, but there was nothing funny about the act.
“Okay, here’s the next question, my friend.”
“Is it the aim of ISIS and al Qaida for world religious domination by imposing a fundamentalist version of Islam on all nonbelievers, truth or dare?”
Kris didn’t indicate yes or no to the question. He’d suffered enough by playing the game.
“Remember, you have to answer and truthfully.”
Kris reluctantly shook his head yes. He knew what was in store for him regardless how he responded. Avery was just playing with him by venting his anger before killing him.
“Last question since I’m tiring of the game.”
“Why did you have Ron Johnston murder my good friend Denny Williams?”
Dick didn’t bother to wait for an answer since nothing could satiate his overwhelming rage. He then pulled on the belt with all the strength he could muster and its buckle viciously tore into Kris’s larynx.
Albert could hear the snap of the hyoid bone in the throat from where he was sitting and knew Kris Amar was dead. His eyes bulged out from their sockets and he had an involuntary bowel movement at the moment of his passing. The stench of death was often offal, he thought, yet something he’d become accustomed to over the years, along with a little dab of Vicks unguent for his nose.
Albert was certain he’d have to clean up the mess after getting sewn up at the emergency room. Who else would bother? They were simply normal, mundane undertakings in his line of work.
He believed the bullet hole in Kris’s Armani jacket sleeve could be neatly rewoven, fetching a decent price at the night market. Just perhaps, it would suit a discerning Thai gentleman with champagne tastes with only beer money. Albert was forever the opportunist and entrepreneur who always saw the chance to make a quick Baht or two at someone else’s expense.
Sometimes those who served and protected hoped Islamic jihadists were met in heaven by many virgins wearing impregnable, chastity belts.