Tidal Rage by David Evans (best big ereader .TXT) 📗

wood stove that was aflame in the kitchen. This was intermingled with the sweet smell of lemongrass and ginger that had been added to the chicken that was boiling on top of the stove.

Sebastian carried on playing. “Gentlemen, you must be the ones who have been tracking me all these months.”

Stahmer entered the room from the rear.

“Ah, I see I was right,” he said as he stopped playing and turned to Stahmer. “How’s the eye, or lack of it, should I say?”

“In much better shape than you will be in the next few hours, I can assure you,” Stahmer replied.

“So, you are not here to arrest me. Sounds personal, is this all over the loss of your eye?” Sebastian said sarcastically.

“No, this is you killing my friend’s sister.”

Sebastian followed Stahmer’s gaze and stared at Cutler.

“Ah, there have been so many; please give me a little more information so I can tell you how she died,” Sebastian said with a grin.

“Juneau, Alaska,” Cutler spat out.

“Yes, I remember. Beautiful girl, marvellous hair, so tasty.”

Cutler moved towards him and kicked the chair from underneath him. Sebastian did not go sprawling as he had expected but landed on his feet and automatically moved side on to Cutler, in a fighting stance.

“Out for revenge, what do they say? Dig two graves, or in this case maybe three or four,” Sebastian said calmly.

“We know your capabilities. Unfortunately, you do not know ours,” Cutler said.

In the blink of an eye, Sebastian did a roundhouse kick, felling Stahmer in one blow and rendering him unconscious. He turned back to face Cutler.

“Odds a little more even now, don’t you think?”

Sebastian leaped up towards Cutler and rose to head height in readiness to launch a flick kick at his temple. The final part of the move did not materialize. Sebastian fell to the floor shuddering.

“Not out for revenge, out for justice,” Tuck spat out.

Sebastian was still reverberating to the electric shock that was pulsating through his body from the Taser in Tuck’s hand.

“I thought I said no weapons?” Cutler asked slowly.

“This isn’t no weapon; this is a toy,” Tuck replied theatrically.

Tuck eased off the trigger of the Taser. They wanted him unconscious, not dead. Cutler removed the duct tape he had in the haversack on his back. He started with Sebastian’s legs, wrapping them tightly together, but not enough to stop circulation. He then placed his arms together and repeated the process.

Tuck bent over Stahmer, slapping his face lightly to bring him back to consciousness.

“That guy does not like you, Stahmer. First he takes your eye and now he connects with your glass jaw.”

Stahmer opened his eyes a little, trying to gain some focus.

“You’re an asshole, Tuck,” was his drowsy and considered response.

Less than forty minutes later, Tuck and Stahmer were in the hire car, with Sebastian trussed up in the trunk. Cutler had finished by taping his mouth, ensuring that he would not asphyxiate before they got to the destination.

Tuck followed them a little way behind in Sebastian’s Fiat. The car struggled to ascend Etna Sud Road as quickly as the hire car.

Ghislaine had not been idle either. Sicilians loved wine, food, and women, in that order. The approach road to the tourist road leading to the crater had been closed by a single barrier, manned by an overweight Sicilian guard.

Fabio had thought all his Christmases had come at once. The beautiful woman had turned up at the wooden shack that had been hastily cobbled together to give him some shelter from the blistering heat of the day and the coolness of the night.

Ghislaine had explained that she had wanted to watch the eruption of Etna at first hand. Would he mind if she spent several hours with him? She could sit by what passed for a window and stare up as the gas slugs erupted some several hundred yards above the shack. But first they would eat from the hamper and drink from the bottle of Chianti and Frascati that was within the food basket.

Fabio was only too happy to oblige. It was his modus operandi to eat a little and drink a lot. When his Dutch courage was enabled, he would try to make a move on this beautiful woman.

Ghislaine guessed right, he was a Chianti drinker. Several glasses later, the sedative she had added took effect. Fabio began to snore heavily, and would not wake for several hours.

When she heard the two cars approach, she lifted the barrier. As instructed by Cutler, she stayed at the barrier in case of any unwanted visitors.

Cutler and Tuck, in the separate cars, made their way through the ancient and not so ancient lava field, through which the road had been carved. Every now and then, a rooftop would sit on top of the lava, the substructure buried for eternity in the rock of life.

Finally, they came up alongside a cone some two hundred yards from Crateri Silvestri. Cutler judged the eruptions, albeit that they were merely small fountains of lava, too dangerous to approach.

From Google, Cutler had learned of these cones and along this flank they were plentiful. They were like the craters but on a much smaller scale. The cinder cones are small, steep-sided volcanic cones built of pyroclastic fragments. They consisted of loose pyroclastic debris formed by explosive eruptions or lava fountains from a single, typically cylindrical, vent.

In the centre of the cone, the lava glowed red and black and rose and fell with the tide of pressure beneath the earth. This particular cone was some twenty yards across, wide enough for what Cutler had in mind.

Tuck set about draining much of the petrol and oil from the Fiat. Cutler did not want the car exploding quickly.

Cutler dragged the trussed form of Sebastian from the hire