They Call Me...Montey Greene

Chapter Thirty Six

"LOCK THE DOOR!"

Those words leapt from Montey's mouth with the vocal infliction of a person who was accustomed to barking orders at one point or another in their life. When the Colombian woman draped in nothing but a towel hesitated Montey barked again, "Lock it! And turn on the cabin lights too."

Alejandra crossed the cabin and locked the door. When she flipped on the lights both she and Montey were shocked to see the gunman was none other than their personal cabin attendant.

"Well, I'll be damned," Montey said.

"As well you should be," said the personal attendant-wannabe-hitman looking up at Montey like a wounded dog as he opened and closed his hand, and rotated his wrist, trying to wring the pain out. "They just want the drugs," he offered without hesitation.

"What?" Montey and Alejandra said in unison as they shared looks of confusion.

"I farmici," the gunman then said it Italian.

"Who just wants the drugs?" Alejandra asked.

"What drugs? Who?" Montey asked simultaneously as he shot Alejandra a look.

Alejandra just shrugged her shoulders indicating that she had no idea what he was talking about either.

"Not you. Her."

"If I were you I would pay attention to the one holding the gun, just a little something you may wanna consider. So let's give this another go. Who...sent...you?"

"I just get a phone call."

"From who?"

"I just get a phone call. They say, kill the moolie. Grab the girl. She has drugs".

"So you just get a phone call. No payment, just a phone call to play hitman? Sounds kinda dumb if you ask me," he paused. As an afterthought he asked, "I'm curious, what's the going rate for an eggplant, and to talk bad English all of a sudden?"

The eyes of the train attendant wearing the name tag with Javier stenciled on it bounced from Montey to Alejandra, back to Montey.

"To kill me, and kidnap her, how much?

"Cinqauntamila."

"Fifty-thousand?" Montey repeated in English somewhat amused. "Wow. That seems to be the going rate these days. Is that in U.S dollars or Euros, the fifty thousand? What type of drugs is she supposed to have?

"Cocaina."

"Cocaine? Alejandra what is he talking about?"

"I honestly have no idea."

"Well I guess that sucks for you. It was all good just a week ago, huh?" He paused then ordered the man to empty his pockets.

"Please, I have a family."

"Family? Me too. You know a man most recently said to me that nothing is more important than family. Would you not agree?"

"Sì."

"Yes? So, where's your family now? Are they on the train?"

"No."

"No? Okay. Empty...your...pockets," Montey ordered for the second time.

The train attendant nervously did as Montey demanded; a stuffed letter size envelope, not unlike the one Juan Carlos gave to Montey, a wallet and keys were now displayed on the floor.

"The keys you can keep, don't want you to have to hitch a ride on the highway to hell. Slide that envelope over to her. Then get up and move over by that window."