“Now,” he shouted at the transfixed crowd, “I would like you to observe the following.” With the viselike grip of his left hand, he grabbed Paul’s wrist and pinned it painfully to the wood. “This man chose to ignore a direct order from me, and because of that, he will be severely punished.”
With his right hand, Holmes grabbed his stiletto, then paused to enjoy the surreal nature of the moment. In the presence of the dancing flames, the length of the five-inch steel shaft gleamed like Excalibur in the regal hands of King Arthur. The crowd gaped in awe at the spectacle they were witnessing. Wailing from his knees, Paul waited for his punishment to be executed.
“Let this be a lesson to you all!”
With a quick downward stroke, Holmes rammed the razor-sharp blade into Paul’s knuckle, just below his fingernail, immediately severing the tip. A flood of crimson gushed from it, glistening in the firelight. Paul screamed in agony while trying to pull his damaged hand off the block, but Holmes was too strong for him. After lifting the knife again, he plunged the blade into Paul’s finger a second time, severing it just below the middle knuckle.
“Stop!” Alicia Metz shrieked above her husband’s wails.
A guard instantly silenced her with a ferocious backhand.
“Not yet!” Holmes answered. He pulled the embedded blade from the block again, and this time buried it into the edge of Paul’s palm, dislodging the last section of his little finger with a sickening pop.
“Why?” she sobbed as she slumped to the ground. “Why are you doing this? What have we done to deserve this?”
Holmes glanced at the three chunks of finger that sat on the chopping block in front of him and smiled, admiring his handiwork. “I’m sick of her babbling. Gag her.”
Two guards grabbed the fallen woman and wrapped her mouth in duct tape.
“Anything else, sir!”
“Yes,” Holmes sneered. “Get this man some gauze. It seems he’s had an accident.”
CHAPTER 6
The Kotto family estate
Lagos, Nigeria
(Near the Gulf of Guinea coast)
HANNIBAL Kotto stared into his bathroom mirror and frowned at the flecks of gray that had recently emerged. Although he was fifty-one years old, he didn’t look it. In fact, people always assumed that he was ten years younger than he actually was.
After opening his plush purple curtains, Kotto gazed across the man-made moat that encircled his majestic grounds and observed a team of workers as they pulled weeds from his impeccably maintained gardens. All of them were new employees, and he wanted to make sure that they were following his orders. Unfortunately, before he had an opportunity to evaluate their performance, his phone rang. “Damn,” he muttered. “There’s always something.”
Kotto reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled out his cellular phone. “Kotto here.”
“Hannibal, my dear friend, how are things in Nigeria?”
For the first time that day, Kotto smiled. It had been a while since he’d spoken with his business partner, Edwin Drake, and that was unusual. They normally spoke a few times a week. “Things are fine. How about South Africa? Is Johannesburg still in one piece?”
“Yes, and I still own most of it.” Drake, an Englishman who made the majority of his money in African diamond mines, laughed. “However, with the civil unrest in this bloody city, my holdings are not as impressive as they used to be.”
“That is a shame, but a common drawback to life in Africa. Governments come, and governments go. The only thing that’s constant is conflict.”
“A more accurate statement has never been spoken.”
Kotto smiled. “Tell me, Edwin, where have you been hiding? I thought maybe you were getting cold feet about our recent operation.”
“Not at all. I couldn’t be happier with our partnership. The truth is I had some last-minute family business to attend to in London, and I honestly didn’t want to call you from there. I never trust those bloody hotels. You can never tell who’s listening.”
After a few minutes of small talk, Kotto steered the conversation to business. “I was wondering what you thought of the last shipment of snow you received. Was it to your liking?”
“Snow? Is that what we’re calling it now? I like the sound of that.”
“I’m glad. I felt we needed a code name for the merchandise, and I hate the term they use in South America.”
“You’re right. Snow is so much simpler to say than cargo blanco.”
“Exactly. And since both of us speak English, I figured an English word was appropriate.”
“Why not something Nigerian? Couldn’t you come up with something colorful from your native tongue?”
Kotto laughed loudly. He always got a kick out of the white man’s unfamiliarity with Africa. “Edwin, I did come up with a word from my native tongue. English is the official language of Nigeria.”
“Really? I didn’t know that. I’m sorry if I offended you.”
“It’s all right. I’m used to your ignorance by now,” Kotto teased. “But I hope you realize I don’t walk the streets of Lagos in a loincloth while carrying my favorite spear.”
Drake couldn’t tell if his friend was lecturing or joking until he heard Kotto laugh. “Hannibal, I must admit you had me going for a while. I thought I hit a nerve.”
“Not at all. I just thought a moment of levity was in order before we continued our business.”
“Yes, it was rather pleasant. Thank you.”
“So, what did you think of your last shipment of snow? Did it meet the expectations of your buyers?”
“In some ways yes, and in some ways no.”
Kotto frowned. It wasn’t the answer he was hoping for. “What do you think needs to be improved?”
“Honestly, the overall quality. I think my buyers were hoping for something better than the street product that I sold them. They wanted something purer. You know, upper-class snow.”
“Well,” he replied, “the last batch was just a trial run. From what I understand, the next shipment we receive will be the best yet.”
CHAPTER 7
WITH such a diverse group-an equal mix of young and old, male and female-there appeared to be no link between the prisoners of the Plantation. But Harris Jackson knew that wasn’t the case. He knew the reason that these people had been pulled from their lives and brought to this island. He understood why they were being humiliated, abused, and tortured. And he relished the fact that they were stripped of their homes, their possessions, and their pride. All of it made sense, and he was going to enjoy his authority over them for as long as it lasted.