Avery thought this was now well outside of Daniel’s control.
The Black Eagles resumed questioning Rivero, who told them he didn’t possess the information they sought. He told them he hadn’t been in contact with the Viper or anyone from FARC or the cartel during his time in Bellavista. Then he pleaded for the release of his family, but the Black Eagles were unmoved by his emotions.
But Rivero’s words betrayed the fact that he had indeed personally and knowingly worked with the Viper before, and Daniel nodded with satisfaction, knowing they were on the right track.
Still, Rivero’s answers weren’t satisfactory.
The lead interrogator drew a pistol, cocked the hammer, and executed Rivero’s nine-year old son. The shot echoed inside the factory. The boy’s small head slumped forward against his chest.
Rivero’s wife spewed vomit across the floor and screamed.
“This is going too far, Daniel,” Avery said, surprised at how calm he felt, once the concussion of the single shot cleared. “Do you hear me? This needs to end now.”
Daniel didn’t even look at Avery.
“Goddamnit, you son of a bitch, if you don’t stop this, I will.”
“I strongly advise against intervening,” Daniel finally said. “These men will surely kill you. Despite the connotations of your nickname, you have a rather weak stomach, don’t you, Carnivore?”
Avery turned to Aguilar. If he was looking for support, he found none. Aguilar was still, his breathing short and heavy. His face showed nothing.
Rivero was screaming now, begging them to release his family.
When the Black Eagle put the gun to the head of one of his daughters, Rivero finally provided a single name, one suddenly recalled from the deepest recesses of his memory, one that hadn’t entered his mind until that second. He said that Sean Nolan would know where to find Moreno. Nolan had been a close friend of the Moreno siblings, and was one of the rare members of the Viper’s inner circle. He’d accompanied her on the Medellin operation.
Avery never heard the name before, but he detected a glint of recognition register on Daniel’s face.
Over the next ten minutes, Rivero freely divulged everything he knew about Sean Nolan, and described in detail how the Viper planned and executed the Medellin courthouse operation, and there was no further abuse inflicted upon Rivero or his family during this time.
The Black Eagles questioned him again and repeatedly for the next thirty minutes, trying to catch flaws in his story or trap him in a lie, but he was consistent and insisted that they find Sean Nolan. Even under further torture, with more holes drilled through his bones and organs, and threats to do the same to his wife, Rivero was unable to provide a location for Nolan, stating only that he travelled between Colombia and Bolivia, but Rivero suggested they look for him in Cali. That’s where he did most of his business.
When it became clear that Rivero had nothing else to offer, and Daniel notified the Black Eagle leader that he was satisfied with the information, Cesar Rivero was finally put out of his misery with a single shot through the center of his face.
“I think we’re through here,” Daniel said.
“What about the family?” Avery asked.
“What about them?”
“What happens to them?”
“What do you think is going to happen to them? Unless you are a true sadist and want to watch, we should leave immediately.”
Daniel turned his back to Avery and walked away.
Avery had been ordered or forced to do plenty of dirty things for the Agency, but even he couldn’t believe how easily Daniel could abandon this woman and her daughters. For Avery, children were always off limits. The objective part of his brain commanded him to leave with Daniel, but a deeper, intrinsic voice, one he didn’t hear often and usually tried to ignore, told him about the right thing to do.
He was conscious of the weight of the Glock at his right hip. It carried a full magazine of fifteen .40 caliber rounds. The Black Eagles had two guns amongst the four of them — the pistol in their leader’s hand and the Uzi sitting on the workbench, ten feet out of reach of the nearest man. Avery thought he could quickly and easily take them on. His mind choreographed the movements, and assessed the position and threat potential of each target and the order in which he’d take them. He re-positioned his right arm slightly so that his hand hovered over the holstered Glock.
“Let it go,” Aguilar said, breaking his concentration.
“The fuck?”
“Trust me. You’ll only get more innocent people killed. These guys aren’t stupid. They’ve told their commanders that they’re doing an operation for the security services. If they turn up dead, the Black Eagles will think they were double-crossed, and they’ll put dozens of police officers and their families in danger.”
Fuck it. Avery sighed, relaxed his hand, switched off the emotions, and tuned out the dissenting voices telling him what to do. The clouds dissipated from his mind, restoring cold objectivity to his thoughts.
It was a shit deal for Rivero’s family, but that’s the way the world worked.
Avery thought of all the other people raped and murdered in this country, names he’d never know. What difference did a couple more make? Why were they more important than any of the others? Because this time he had names and faces to put to the victims?
Avery started after Aguilar, who was now halfway to the doors.
But he stopped short when one of the girls screamed. Desperate, terrified, and powerless, she cried out for help, the only thing she could do.
The child’s plea was bad enough, but the sadistic cruelty of the man’s laughter that followed finalized Avery’s decision, and he at once felt disgusted with himself for thinking he could turn away and still live with himself.
He turned back around to see the Black Eagles, thirty feet away, beneath the glow of the lights, going to work on Rivero’s daughters, holding them down, smacking them. The elder daughter’s shirt and bra were sliced open, exposing her breasts, putting her on display, and a Black Eagle was on his knees between her legs, with a hand undoing his belt. Another Black Eagle had the younger girl pinned face down, one hand holding a bundle of her hair, while Rivero’s wife remained tied to her chair, crying, forced to watch.
As he stepped forward, Avery detected one Black Eagle’s gaze on him, and saw the glint of realization in the man’s eyes, recognition of an impending threat.
The Black Eagle tried to alert the others, but they didn’t hear him, too preoccupied with the girls, and by the time he finally caught their attention, Avery had already drawn the Glock. He took the Weaver stance with his arms extended straight out in front of him, left hand wrapped around the right, finger over the trigger, with his left foot stepped forward.
He kept a tight grip around the Glock, struggling against the painful tremor in his shoulder, to keep his sights level and still. He held the tiny green dot over the only armed Black Eagle, who was on his knees with the barrel of his Taurus pistol inserted into the mouth of the younger Rivero daughter.
Avery aimed high so that he didn’t place the girl in danger. He hit the trigger twice, the shots thundering loudly inside the factory and at once silencing and freezing everyone else in place.
The bullets cored through the target’s face, and fragmented inside his chest skull. His blood spattered the screaming girl, and his slack body fell on top of her.
Continuing forward, Avery shifted aim and drew a bead on his next target.