28-03-2019, 02:50 PM
When La Contessa insisted on interrogating the prisoners in the warehouse, some of the Ultimados grumbled. Grilling these men could take days for a professional interrogator. They needed to be locked up separately so that they couldn't concoct a story. It would take sleep and food deprivation for days to get them to talk.
They were surprised when it took less than an hour. One by one, the prisoners sat at the table with La Contessa, She asked each man a few questions in Chinese, and each of them answered every question she asked as she typed notes into her phone, then told him to go return to the same position as before. The only one who didn't do exactly the same as the others was the man lying on a stretcher on his stomach with a large metal rod sticking from his rectum, whom she walked over and talked to instead. When she had everything she wanted from them, she asked one of the Ultimados to bring her the box from the front seat of the truck. Helena turned to face the one who remained.
"Have you ever driven a big rig like that," she asked. The man nodded in the negative. "It's a little scary at first, but you get over it quickly, and then it's fun as hell." She picked up her phone and brought up Siri, speaking French. "Message for Jeanne: Jeanne, can you check the garage and see if I have an 18-wheeler, and if I don't, get me one? Thanks."
Helena took a pen from her pocket and searched for a piece of paper. Her eyes lit on a discarded pizza box and she walked over and ripped off the lid, then returned to the table with it and started to draw something on the underside.
"I'm not much of an artist," she said to the Ultimado, making small talk as she drew. "I have a friend who's really good, but I didn't exactly have time to commission her or fly her over from the States or anything." She finished drawing the two large Chinese characters as the other Ultimado returned with a cardboard box. Helena instructed him to bring it over to her chair by the kneeling men, then followed and sat before them.
"Gentlemen," she said in Cantonese. "Our conversations have been most enlightening." She checked the notes on her phone. "And after you've reported to the Elders, if any of you see this... Raymond Chen... when you get back to Hong Kong, tell him we'll be talking quite soon; unless the Elders want to save me a trip and themselves a social call by taking care of him for me. Oh, didn't I say? We ARE going to put you all onto a plane for Hong Kong after we're done here. Won't be much longer now."
The criminals began looking at each other and giving smiles of relief, then turned back to see the look on La Contessa's face and realized she wasn't done speaking.
"You really should have waited until I was finished to start getting your hopes up. Now, of course, we can't let you return home from San Finzione without souvenirs." She bent down over the cardboard box, then took out the balisong and cut it open. "Who did this belong to?" The man she'd first spoken to when she entered bowed his head. "Well, it's mine now. And, I only brought five switchblades, looks like there's two more in the weapon pile here. And 14 of you, so you'll have to take turns and one of you is going to have to get Firefly over there." She gathered them up and dumped them on the floor in front of her, along with the five from the box. Helena then leaned the pizza box lid against the larger cardboard box so all the men could see the large Chinese characters for "Peddler of Slaves" that she'd drawn.
They were surprised when it took less than an hour. One by one, the prisoners sat at the table with La Contessa, She asked each man a few questions in Chinese, and each of them answered every question she asked as she typed notes into her phone, then told him to go return to the same position as before. The only one who didn't do exactly the same as the others was the man lying on a stretcher on his stomach with a large metal rod sticking from his rectum, whom she walked over and talked to instead. When she had everything she wanted from them, she asked one of the Ultimados to bring her the box from the front seat of the truck. Helena turned to face the one who remained.
"Have you ever driven a big rig like that," she asked. The man nodded in the negative. "It's a little scary at first, but you get over it quickly, and then it's fun as hell." She picked up her phone and brought up Siri, speaking French. "Message for Jeanne: Jeanne, can you check the garage and see if I have an 18-wheeler, and if I don't, get me one? Thanks."
Helena took a pen from her pocket and searched for a piece of paper. Her eyes lit on a discarded pizza box and she walked over and ripped off the lid, then returned to the table with it and started to draw something on the underside.
"I'm not much of an artist," she said to the Ultimado, making small talk as she drew. "I have a friend who's really good, but I didn't exactly have time to commission her or fly her over from the States or anything." She finished drawing the two large Chinese characters as the other Ultimado returned with a cardboard box. Helena instructed him to bring it over to her chair by the kneeling men, then followed and sat before them.
"Gentlemen," she said in Cantonese. "Our conversations have been most enlightening." She checked the notes on her phone. "And after you've reported to the Elders, if any of you see this... Raymond Chen... when you get back to Hong Kong, tell him we'll be talking quite soon; unless the Elders want to save me a trip and themselves a social call by taking care of him for me. Oh, didn't I say? We ARE going to put you all onto a plane for Hong Kong after we're done here. Won't be much longer now."
The criminals began looking at each other and giving smiles of relief, then turned back to see the look on La Contessa's face and realized she wasn't done speaking.
"You really should have waited until I was finished to start getting your hopes up. Now, of course, we can't let you return home from San Finzione without souvenirs." She bent down over the cardboard box, then took out the balisong and cut it open. "Who did this belong to?" The man she'd first spoken to when she entered bowed his head. "Well, it's mine now. And, I only brought five switchblades, looks like there's two more in the weapon pile here. And 14 of you, so you'll have to take turns and one of you is going to have to get Firefly over there." She gathered them up and dumped them on the floor in front of her, along with the five from the box. Helena then leaned the pizza box lid against the larger cardboard box so all the men could see the large Chinese characters for "Peddler of Slaves" that she'd drawn.
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