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Saturday, January 8, 2011

CHAPTER N: ALCOHOL SAVED MY LIFE, A TRUE STORY

The fourth blow was overkill. The butt of the rifle smashed into the back of the Katsa's head, breaking his neck. But the third had left his skull caved in, blood oozing from cracks hidden under his dark brown hair. Von Stahlien looked down at the mess that was his face.


"Now, Alonso, was that really necessary? It is fortunate that that we have three more. Hopefully, one of them will cooperate."


The bull named Alonso gulped, and hastily stepped back. I took a glance at the other agents. Their seething eyes never left Von Stahlien, their mouths shut in firm lines.


I gave a tired sigh. "We're from the Mossad, we're supposed to bag you and take you back to Israel."


He looked at me, frowning. "You're not Mossad, are you?"


"Your answer is I'm not Israeli. But I am Mossad."


"That must be quite an honor, a Mossad who is not an Israeli."


"Yeah, some honor."


Von Stahlien blinked at the sarcasm. Then he took out a pistol and shot the other two Katsas in the head. Their bodies were flung back with the force and they hit the polished wooden flooring with dull thuds. Von Stahlien turned to face me again.


"Leave us, and take off his bonds. Keep him unarmed though."


The guards hesitated, but quickly marched out as one knelt to removed the bonds around my wrist, before following the others, closing the double doors behind him. Von Stahlien turned around and sat by the table pouring out two glassed of sherry.


"Sit." He said.


I sat down.


He offered me a glass. "Drink."


I drank it.  


He looked at me from over the top of his glass, his eyes never leaving mine. I only then noticed that they were as blue as Jacinto's. The monocle was still there on its chain around my neck, I could feel its metal rim against my chest. I imagined what the Nazi would look like if he were to wear one. It made me grin.


It didn't escape Von Stahlien. "What is amusing you at a time like this? I am most curious."


"I have a gift, from a... friend of mine. He's somewhat similar a chap to you." I just realized how stupid that sounds. I'm comparing an eccentric archeologist to a Nazi murderer.


Yeah... that is pretty fucking stupid.


...


So then the old faggot looks at me with this stupid cocky smile, and he actually asks if he could see it! So this jackass takes it off, honestly I don't know why you keep that on you, it only further proves how much of a little girly faggot you are, holding on to an 'item of a lost one'. Makes me wanna puke...


Where was I? Oh yeah, so this ass hands him the monocle and, and holds it in his hands, and then he puts it on!


... Alright, I'll admit that it did look pretty fucking stupid on him.


...


Even a little a funny.


...


What? Silent treatment again? You know I'm not eight. Shit, you are stupid.


...


Anyways, so he puts the monocle on, we have a fucking laugh, and the two glasses become a bottle. I take control, cause this little shit has no capacity at all, and the one bottle goes on to six, and a few lines thrown in as well. Soon we're swapping stories about gasing jews and raping chinks, laughs all around.


"And then, and then, he actually thought for that moment he was finally a free man. It was then, when I shot him in the stomach, blowing a hole through his spine." Stahlien let out a slight chuckle as he finished his sentence. I snorted another line. Shit man I gotta tell you, the Colombians know their shit, they could rule they world through this if they had a little more balls.


"Before the Mossad, I was in China."


"China?"


"Hong Kong, to be specific. It was the first time I killed a man. Well, not exactly, but the feeling the rush, the kick I got from knowing I had just ended a man's life, with an object smaller than my toenail... it was something else, I knew that I would do anything to have that again, and again and again."


Von Stahlien gave me a knowing smile. "The world as it is right now is no longer... accommodating for people like us. We live in harder times."  


"Sure. Says the man in the golden house."


"A golden house, that is also a beautiful birdcage. I have been here in Colombia for longer than you have been alive, I saw the  fall of Hitler, just as I saw the rise of cocaine before the rest of the world was to be hit by it, I saw the potential. And I went for it, I helped the many cartels, taught them, trained them. Escobar couldn't even take a walk in the park without my advice. Now, I am like a hero amongst them, respected, worshiped. By a land of born murderers. But if I leave Colombia, all I become is a target. Even the vast power of the Cartels cannot protect me, as you have seen from tonight, in their own lands, where would I be if I were beyond them?"


The poor bastard had put serious thought into this, and he knew that by the end of it, he was screwed, not because he couldn't get caught, but because the whole fucking game had changed.


It was like I was looking at my own retirement. Kinda creepy, now if I think about it. Shit, I should have just killed him then, just to put him out of his misery. His gun was on the table next to him, but I was sure that I could reach it before him, or at least go for his neck. But I was like, 'fuck it, the old fart's not so bad'.


"So tell me, how does an Indian who lived in China end up with the Mossad?"


I gulped down the rest of my glass. "Also been to Egypt, England, France, Argentina,that was to snap one of your boys, Italy, Mongolia, boy that was a blast... uh... Oh! Also your ruddy fatherland as well, though I think I've forgotten two or three."


Von Stahlien's eyebrows shot up. "You have been very busy, I see."


I shrugged. "Hate to be bored. Hey, can we go kill some people?"


He frowned. "You want to kill people? Right now?"


"Not immediately. But in say, fifteen-twenty minutes?"


A bewildered looking Nazi wearing a monocle is one of the most retardly hilarious things on this planet. Seriously. I think I must have laughed for five straight minutes.






I jumped out of the jeep before the wheels had come to a halt. Blood still flowed from my shoulder from when the bullet had nicked it, but I didn't care. We had been betrayed by one of our own, and this time they were-


Hold on... Oh, we've come a bit ahead. Sorry about that, get confused a couple of times, lotta things aren't that clear. I thought he had come this far, but its alright, I think I know where he left off.


When one complete psycho finds another complete psycho in the land of almost-psychos, it leads to a beautiful friendship. And by the time I had come back from the room, I was one of the Hermandad and deep into the Cocaine Empire.


The Mossad? Von Stahlien sent back the bodies of the other Katsas, with a note attached saying mine was to be kept as a trophy. The Mossad knew they had to withdraw for the present, and they did.


Heh... Hiel Hitler.


And so I was not stuck in another entirely different mess. Actually, it was pretty much the same as before. There's not much difference between the many espionage agencies in the world and the unlawful brotherhoods they wage war against. Its a vicious circle of sharks in a blood red sea. And I was now stuck in it.


In hindsight, the Cartels were not that different from the Triads either. Both hated the law, both thought they were the greatest, and both always end up dead in very elaborate ways. I fitted right in with them. As for Von Stahlien, he became my greatest drinking buddy. Great bloody conversation when you're drunk, God knows why the Mossad would want to kill him. I mean, once you get to know him, he's not so bad a guy. He's read a lot, and likes to debate a lot of philosophy. I'd reply with reality and sarcasm.


We'd also kill a lotta people, though that was mainly me.


Once in a while he would leave his home, and accompanied by an army of guards, travel to meat with the heads. Most of the time, it'd be Mosquera. The bastard always needed a hand to hold, and Stahlien was more than pleased to give it to him. Stahlien always asked me to accompany him on these meetings. He and I both knew why, and both of us agreed to help him. We did owe for that much.


Screw that, I don't owe him squat. I could have taken care of the Mossad by myself.


By the end of it, we had gotten careless. We all knew that with the smuggling and production routes firmly set, some of the heads had started to think that the Nazi was now not that great of a help. The respected hero was now slowly becoming expendable.


The attack started in two places. Both at Von Stahlien's mansion, and the Convoy we were in. Everyone was in it, even the driver of our jeep. But I had put a bullet in his head before he could even raise his gun, and then kicked the body out of the car and climbed into the driver's seat. They had already started firing from the front and behind, and broken shards of glass were flying around the place. I floored the gas and swerved around the jeep in front, yanking a grenade from the car's armory and throwing it into the driver's window. The explosion sent pieces of metal flying through the air, one took off my side mirror.


I drove on like a mad man, while Von Stahlien crouched in the backseat as Diego fired blindly at the car behind us.


Diego. Von Stahlien's bastard son. The Nazi never married, just had a lot of fun. Some of it caught up to him in the form of a five year old boy, whose mother had just died due to a horrible bus accident. The Nazi took him in and trained him to be a lethal weapon. Though Diego had the same olive skin as any Colombian, his eyes were big and bright blue like his father's, not the usual black squint like the others.


When the ambush had begun, Diego had started firing straight away, mowing two men down as we sped away. He had been hit in the arm as well, but he showed  no sign of pain as he leaned down to check on his father.


"Est├ís bien?"


Von Stahlien nodded, and turned to face me. "Indian. We need to head to my home, now."


I turned around when I heard my name. "Your house? Are you sure? Shouldn't we be rushing for some airfield instead?"


"That can wait." He patiently replied. "I have made arrangements to escape, but we need to go to my house first. There are documents that I need which are most important to me. Please, Indian."


I gritted my teeth, and pulled right down another lane. 


Coming to where we are...


Von Stahlien said the safe was hidden behind the plasma. I winced as the sixty inch screen crashed to the floor in a million pieces. The safe was there, and I punched in the key he gave me. Inside lay two hardbound folders, a pouch that I was told contained diamonds, and some half-a-million dollars in cash. I threw everything inside a duffel bag, and ran back out. Gunfire erupted as I ran down the stairs. The Cartels had caught up with us, but Von Stahlien's guards at his mansion held them back. These men could not have been bought over. While not related like Diego through blood, each man saw the Nazi as a father. They loved him, they would have died for him.


Which is what each of them ended up doing. We sped off in the jeep, rushing for the river, while they did their best to hold back the hundreds of Colombians descending on the grounds. Von Stahlien had a jetty hidden there, known only to him, which was built only a few miles away from where the river opened up into the Pacific. The jetty held one boat, but it was fast enough. No car or boat would be able to follow us. We got of the car and Diego leaped into the speed boat, starting the engines as I helped Von Stahlien climb aboard.


It was around then that the chopper flew right over us peppering the river with a hail of bullets. We all ducked to the floor, but Diego had floored the boat, and the hull was already cutting the water in two clean sheets as the little devil jumped to life. The chopper turned around and began to give chase, taking its sweet time to draw closer.


I shouted at Stahlien. "Give me something to blow it up with!"


He pointed to a cabinet built into the floor of the boat. I opened the trapdoor to see enough weapons to start a Blood Diamond mine. Pulling out the classic RPG, (yes, it's a classic), I knelt, aimed and fired. The rocket flew straight into the chopper's belly, blowing a hole right through it. The result was a flaming ball of metal that flew right out of the sky.


And landed right on top of us.

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