“At first he could not remember where he was, let alone how he got there. His body ached and he could barely breathe. Then, slowly, as he tried to identify his surroundings in the darkness of a moonless night, he recalled his predicament. He had driven his own car to the estate, with the Indian sitting silently in the back. Up the drive past inquisitive guards, then to the front of the palatial house where they had stopped. Another Indian addressed his captor. Tupac, he called him. ‘Don Carlos i...s busy now,’ Amaya had said in Spanish. Then they talked in a language that Julio did not understand. He was fifty metres away from the druglord’s mansion and, on the terrace, he could see two men in a garden bench swing. He recognized them straight away: Morales and Speer. The Indians ordered Robles out of his car and marched him to a jeep. They handcuffed his wrists behind his back and wrapped a makeshift blindfold round his head. One drove, with Robles sitting next to him in front, the other quietly behind to discourage silly ideas.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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