Painless by Derek Ciccone Read Free Book Online

shoulder—one appearing to have gone clear out the back—and another right above his chest. Naqui figured the bullet from the chest wound was still lodged, having just missed his heart and lungs by centimeters. He put on a pair of snug rubber gloves and touched around the wound. Stipe jumped in agony.
    “I need to remove that bullet,” Naqui said, continuing to inspect the wound.
    “Just give me a shot of the good shit and I’ll be able to deal with it.”
    “I’m not concerned about the pain—I’m concerned someone will trace the bullet to the events in Iran.”
    The two men engaged in a brief stare-down. But in the end, no matter how much distrust and loathing existed between them, Naqui knew they would continue to endure. There was too much invested. The power struggle within Operation Anesthesia would continue with no true winner.
    Stipe must’ve thought differently. He pulled out a gun from his cargo pants. “Give me the needle, doc, or maybe I’ll have you join me in the pain. Ever been shot in your little Pakistani balls?”
    Naqui shot him with a death stare, knocking the threat away like a fly. The men then glared at each other until Naqui won the mental standoff, and Stipe lowered the gun. He then injected Stipe with a customized “cocktail” that featured Vicodin and Valium, along with other high-powered numbing agents that couldn’t be purchased on the open market.
    Stipe’s eyes rolled back in ecstasy. Once regaining his senses, his fluttering eyes gazed up at the television screen. Footage was replaying of the Anesthesia soldiers—or Anesthesiologists, as Naqui affectionately referred to them—being executed. As usual, the news coverage was exploiting the gory images.
    “Too bad I don’t have the same pain tolerance. Look at that—they didn’t even feel a thing,” Stipe gleefully stated.
    “How many times do I have to tell you not to talk bad of them?”
    “It’s what we trained them for—nothing more, nothing less.”
    “They deserve respect. They gave their lives for their country.”
    Stipe arrogantly sighed. “They were a bunch of freaks who didn’t know any better. Besides, it’s pretty easy sitting here in your swanky Park Place office making judgments.”
    Naqui’s fists clenched again, but his demeanor remained cool. “Don’t you question my commitment. The only person you fight for is yourself. I wonder how many of those brave kids had your footprints on their backs, when you tried to save your own ass. Now tell me what happened!”
    He didn’t have to ask twice. Stipe loved telling his heroic tales. What they lacked in the truth they usually made up in mythical grandeur. “We found an underground uranium plant just outside the city of Yazd in central Iran, along with an arsenal of biological shit. Another successful mission.”
    “No mission where twelve soldiers are killed can be considered successful,” Naqui scoffed.
    “One major problem in twenty years and you got buyer’s remorse, doc? Do you know how many 9/11s have been averted because of me?”
    “Don’t flatter yourself.”
    “As we were making our getaway, a sandstorm came out of nowhere and the helicopter went down just after takeoff.” He glanced at his wounds to make his point. “And we went down hard.”
    “Is it traceable?”
    “It was an Mi-17 Soviet model we purchased on the black market. Was I wrong to use my American Express card?”
    “I’m glad you find humor in this,” Naqui admonished. Then he returned to his desk and pulled out a handwritten piece of paper. “This is the manifest from the mission. I’m concerned as to why there are three missing members who weren’t shown in the execution tapes.”
    Naqui studied Stipe, who appeared nervous as he spoke, “It was one big fiery mess. It wouldn’t be logical for everybody to have survived the crash.”
    “I just find it interesting that everybody else survived the crash.”
    “Like I said, it was a flurry of gunshots, sand,