PATIENT EVIL
An R.J. Godlewski and Right Truth Blog Exclusive eBook

Chapter Twenty-Seven
July, 20xx
Bagerovo Air Base, Ukraine
Mahmoud sat slumped in the yellow plastic chair, panting and quivering like a constipated Chihuahua. His hair snarled like a malignant tumor of black worms. “Damn Muhammad! Damn Muhammad! Damn Muhammad!” he kept repeating without cessation.
Jonas Prinkler mopped the folds of his wide forehead with a handkerchief. His green nylon flight suit was peeled down to his waist and secured with a loose knot tied from its sleeves. “Damn, Carmassi. You snapped his mind…”
“No I didn’t.” Seth Carmassi watched the prisoner through the window, scrutinizing every vibration of the Arab like a professional baseball pitcher examining a batter before delivering a throw. “He now just hates his master with a passion.”
“Look at him mumbling. How are you going to retrieve any information from someone in his condition?”
“It was not my intention to extract any information from him.”
“Oh?” Jonas crumbled the handkerchief into his fist, shoving the cloth aggressively into his pocket.
“Oh, we’ll get some Intel from him…” offered Carmassi. “Right now, though, he’s thinking of ways in which to pay the Sorcerer back for what we’ve put him through.”
Jonas nodded hesitantly. “And what of us? Will our little escapade defeat justice once the world learns of what we did put him through?”
“Screw the frickin’ world!” Carmassi yanked another Cuban out of his pocket and lit the cigar, puffing heavily until a cloud of smoke erupted from his mouth like Krakatoa. “That prick in there was working for the United Nations. Do you think that I care much about the rest of the world thinks of us?”
“So that gives us reason to torture the guy?”
Carmassi poked his cigar at the glass, deforming the end into a burning mushroom. “Torture? Did we not use the same quality lifeline that Air Force people use to protect their lives? Did we not haul him back in well before his sorry-assed carcass would’ve hit the ground? Don’t blame me if the bastard is afraid of heights! Anyone brave enough to murder innocent women and children shouldn’t be scared of something like being toss out of an airplane.”
“Yeah, I suppose that we really didn’t harm him…physically, leastways.” Jonas tried to match his friend’s sarcasm. “And I suppose he would’ve done different with us if the tables were turned…”
“Damn right, he would’ve.” snapped Carmassi. “His specialty is ripping your head off with a dull blade while his cronies film the whole frickin’ thing.”
Jonas felt decidedly uncomfortable. “So what do we do with him?”
“We make him believe that the Sorcerer is using him. That shouldn’t be too terribly difficult. People like our prisoner here are basically cowards at heart; nothin’ but bullies. They use the real fanatics to do their dirty work – things that they wouldn’t do for themselves.
“Mahmoud’s Achilles’ heel was his absolute fear of heights. It became our force-multiplier and we hit this vulnerability hard. Now, look at him; he’s sitting there trying to figure out how Allah and Muhammad left him to endure his most primal fear…and he’s angry.”
Jonas nodded softly. “Angry at whom, though?”
“At everyone; but he knows now how we’ll deal with him so he’ll want to get as far away from us as possible. Undoubtedly back to his clan.”
Jonas smiled, straightening out his posture. “That’s how we’ll find his people. He’ll lead us to them!”
Carmassi slid the cigar out of his mouth again and tapped the oral end gently against his right temple. “You’re learning my friend …”
“But suppose we loose him?”
The cigar retreated towards its home. “Well, so much for learning.” A billowing cloud of smoke rose from Carmassi’s lips. “You don’t suppose for a moment that ol’ Mahmoud here would go back to his people alone do you?”
“No, not really.” Jonas flushed his handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped it sporadically across his brow; his voice etching an octave higher with every passing syllable. “Who is going with him?”
“We are.”
Jonas nearly hit the floor, catching himself against the wall and dropping the cloth wipe in the process. “Who?” His voice was nearly silent and needed to be coaxed. “We?”
“Yep.” Carmassi dodged any further inquires and leaned forward against the glass panes so that he could resume scrutinizing the Arab’s posture and mannerism. “Yes Mahmoud, my friend, you’re going to be our Trojan horse, you sick bastard…”
* * * *
At the Patient Evil Homepage the Synopsis, Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six , Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, and Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen, Chaptaer Twenty, Chapter Twenty-One, Chapter Twenty-Two, Chapter Twenty Three, Chapter Twenty-Four, Chapter Twenty-Five, Chapter Twenty-Six, each chapter will be available in pdf after they are published here at Right Truth.
Synopsis at Right Truth Chapter Seven
Prologue and Chapter One at Right Truth, Chapter Two , Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Six, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Five,
Chapter Ten, Chapter 11, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen, Chapter Twenty, Chapter Twenty-One, Chapter Twenty-Two, Chapter Twenty-Three, Chapter Twenty-Four, Chapter Twenty-Five, Chapter Twenty-Six,
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