Caribbean Rage

By Clington Quamie

When Erik Barfknecht, New York’s most notorious drug lord is captured and thrown behind bars, he later learns that Franco Defreitas, his closest associate has betrayed him; stolen a large chunk of his fortune; and is living a luxurious life on an exotic little Caribbean island. He immediately deploys a contingent of assassins on the island to abduct his nemesis and recover what was stolen from him. In an unfortunate twist of fate, his deadliest assassin, The Shadow, has inadvertently switched sides and is wreaking havoc on the island leading to a series of unsolved crimes and a feverish police pursuit.
Robert Cullingberg owns an exotic restaurant on a beachfront. He lives a simple life with his daughter, Marielli and his Lady, Kaila who investigates natural disasters as a way of life. The lives of Robert and his family take a turn for the worst. They are surrounded by a nexus of pronounced violence when a document containing information about a treasure map is thrown in Robert’s possession. Robert discovers too late that all along he has been sitting on a treasure chest. Two of his employees turn out to be ruthless assassins with a history of violence and working for a powerful criminal organization.
Baptist Silver, a local fisherman and smuggler strikes the wrong deal with a local bandit and is innocently caught up in the rage.
Inspector Daniel Cooper heads the criminal investigative department on the island. He puts together two teams to investigate the ongoing spate of crimes but is thrown into consternation when one of his lead investigators, Charlene went missing and her team members brutally murdered.
In the midst of it all, a destructive Tsunami ravaged the island adding to the outrage. A contingent of prisoners led by a scar faced criminal is set on the loose and has joined forces with Franco Defreitas. The Shadow discovers that he has been maliciously misled by Franco and immediately reunites with his former boss, Erik to recover an unimaginable reservoir of treasure.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Clington Quamie
• Release date: Jul 19, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310840487

Clington Quamie

Clington Quamie is a Dominican born author who resides in Antigua, Guadeloupe and France. He holds a Bachelor Degree of Science in management studies at University of the West Indies and is completing a Masters of Business management (Tourism & Hospitality) at Edinburgh Napier University. While currently serving as a business developer, the art of writing has always been his central passion. Clington Quamie is the author of the books Caribbean Rage, Desperation Point and C.Q's Home & Office and Small Business Budgeting. He has an archive of other books awaiting the publishing process and hopes to gain support from a Caribbean and international based audience including local Book stores and Hollywood and other UK based film production companies. Clington Quamie can be contacted at [e-mail] or www.facebook.com/clingtonquamiebooks. Clington Quamie writes fiction and non-fiction books.

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CARIBBEAN

RAGE

Clington Quamie

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Copyright ©2015 by Clington Quamie

Smashwords Edition

First published in 2015 by CreateSpace Publishing Platform.

ISBN: 9781310840487

Author’s Note

Clington Quamie is also the author of Desperation Point.

CARIBBEAN

RAGE

PROLOGUE

……………

The shrill sound of shackles around his hands and feet echoed through every cell as the infamous inmate exited New York State prison’s corridor.

‘Shadow, shadow, shadow, shadow...’ inmates roared with excitement. The entire prison became a human zoo.

He was escorted by several highly trained prison guards who later handed him over to the FBI. He was about to be escorted to the airport then deported to the island of sun, sea and sand in the Caribbean where he was born.

He lived in New York for countless years and went by the notorious name, THE SHADOW. He was about to be banished indefinitely from the USA.

The crimes he committed were gruesome yet he felt no remorse. It was the life he knew since his introduction to a life of gangs and crimes.

Erik Barfknecht, a notorious German drug lord who also served time in the penitentiary was responsible for his induction.

The Shadow survived a drilling twenty five years behind bars and now freedom was within his reach again. What won’t kill me will only make me stronger; he meditated on the next few hours that would lead to his freedom and land him in the heart of the Caribbean.

Sunday 3:30 pm

One

……………

I sat contentedly on the patio of a spacious villa that overlooked the calm Caribbean Sea. Eight years went by quickly. Kaila Bronson and I had narrowly cheated death when we escaped a series of natural disasters on a nearby island. The life threatening events had cemented our bond to a degree where the idea of marriage hung loosely in the air.

‘Babe…’ Kaila Bronson interrupted a distant flashback that had already led me down a path of procrastination.

‘Abdullah just called. I think they need a hand at the restaurant’

One year after the dreadful volcanic eruption in Nature Isle, Kaila secured a good paying job with the Seismic Research Centre (SRC) in Trinidad. We’d both migrated to the island but it hadn’t taken us a full six months to realize we did not like it there. Trinidad was one of the Caribbean islands that operated in the fast lane. Its comparative edge in development over its neighboring islands led to a heightened crime rate.

Kaila and I were more or less in search of an island that offered a similar paradise-like peace away from the hectic life.

‘Daddy!!! Didn’t you hear mom calling?’ The villa’s front door suddenly crashed open.

Marielli charged towards me. My eight year old daughter was a sweetheart although most of the time she appeared somewhat untamed.

‘Go tell mom I’ll be there in a minute.’ a simple kiss on her cheek sun-beamed her feigned disappointment.

Watching Marielli race back towards her mom made me remember her sibling who lived somewhere in Germany. In a seemingly not too distant past, two different women were impregnated with my babies during a horrifying volcanic eruption. Erika had travelled back to Germany and never bothered to contact me. I hadn’t the slightest idea whether the baby she’d birthed was a boy or a girl.

Often times, Marielli would ask Kaila or me, when were we going to give her a little brother or sister but I could not bring myself to tell my little princess the tormenting truth about her other sibling. Maybe at some point in the future I would sit her down and explain but not quite yet. I knew too well the nexus of questions I would have to answer to.

Unlike me, Kaila never entertained the topic whenever Marielli brought it up. She wanted to bury all memories of Erika. Besides, she’d told me that she wasn’t prepared to have another child until marriage.

After a year in Trinidad, we moved to Antigua, the little touristic island in sun, sea and crystal white sand. We later invested in a fancy little restaurant and bar in Jolly Harbour named Koconut Breeze. Kaila landed a job with the government in the ministry that dealt with natural disasters. It was like destiny had shackled her to jobs that surrounded anything concerning natural disasters.

Nature Isle offered a distinguishable piece of paradise that included natural hot springs, waterfalls, fresh water lakes, rivers, and a peaceful aura that superseded most of the other Caribbean islands. Being away for such a long spell tormented me with an upsurge of nostalgia. Although I yearned being back home, Antigua could assuredly be called my home away from home.

The island was nestled in a different kind of paradise. Numerous white-sand beaches enveloped the island. It was cordoned with a coastline of safe harbours and a protective unbroken wall of coral reef that complemented accompanying hotels, creating a haven for scuba diving and snorkeling.

Antigua was also distinguished for its exquisite cuisines, restaurants, nightlife, weddings and honeymoon; an ideal island for luxury holidays.

‘Come on dad…mommy says to hurry…we’re leaving soon!’ Marielli appeared less undomesticated. I shook off the doze of procrastination that beleaguered me and got ready for a long Sunday at Koconut Breeze.

Saturday 9:10 pm

Two

……………

Smallmoney positioned himself at an angle that allowed him instant vision of anyone entering Diamond-Ice. The nightclub was usually cramped on a Saturday night. To further disguise himself, he motioned a less sexy looking stripper over to entertain him with a lap dance. The extra pounds she had on was a perfect cover for him.

‘Do you like that?’ the stripper tugged at his earlobe in an attempted whisper that sent tasteless chills up his intestines. On a different night, she would have never had the opportunity to be within a touching distance of him, far less to have her tongue connecting with his ear.

Smallmoney completely ignored her. A flavorless bitch wasn’t going to allow him to lose his focus. His eyes were trained on Diamond-Ice’s entrance. He knew too well what he was up against. His notorious friend, Little Kevin was in his company but offered little comfort. There was a price on his head and his hunter’s reputation terrified him. Smallmoney had no clue what his pursuer looked like or what his name was; in fact nobody knew his name or ever got to see his face. He was known as The Shadow in criminal circles and whenever he was fixated on your trail, death was just about a matter time.

‘I must leave the island tonight.’ Smallmoney had one person in mind as he tried to overcome his nervousness. He reached inside his pocket for his fancy Smartphone then immediately dialed a number he hadn’t dialed in ages. Somewhere in his mind, every male figure entering the club could be The Shadow.

‘You waah me ride you harder?’ a heavy mixture of sweat and alcohol connected with his earlobe again. Smallmoney fought the urge to slam her to the ground. He was SMALLMONEY and could do anything he wanted in the club. He would get away with it easily but it was a different night. He didn’t want to draw attention of any kind. Adrenaline rushed his entire body as his paranoia mounted. He had stolen from the wrong man; a very powerful man and now it seemed that his only price to pay was death.

‘I need to escape the country tonight.’ he reassured himself. His phone battery started beeping out of control.

‘Baptist Silver.’ the voice in his earpiece was out of breath, ‘friend or foe?’ Smallmoney wasn’t surprised by the way Baptist answered. He too was a noted crook but had never affronted Smallmoney; it was Smallmoney who owed him.

‘It’s me, Smallmoney and I have urgent business for you…no bullshit!’ Smallmoney yanked his ear away from the stripper. He shot her a glance of contempt.

‘Meet me outside Diamond Ice in about a half hour.’ the phone battery died before Smallmoney had time get a response.

He wondered if his last set of words weren’t swallowed up before the battery died. His timepiece became his new focus. He had thirty minutes to get out of the club.

****

The Shadow kept a measured distance from his target. In the few months he returned to the little island, he kept a very low profile during the day but had driven extensively at nights. In a matter of a month, he’d mastered the island’s roads like he’d known them for ages.

Though an unimposing figure, he heard of Smallmoney’s ruthlessness. The guy was a rogue of the worst kind who manipulated, exploited and cheated his way through life and at times exterminated those who came in his path. He had stolen from the wrong man; a very wealthy man who had hired The Shadow although they’d never met in person. The Shadow was intent on making his target suffer. The payment for the job was incalculable by his standard and there was no way he would sabotage a mission of such magnitude. His target made a u-turn into All-saints road. A bright beam from an overhead streetlight connected with the windscreen of the Land Cruiser he drove. It exposed a silhouette The Shadow recognized from a trailing distance. His target appeared to be holding a phone to his left ear while clutching the steering wheel with his right. Another figure loomed from the passenger’s side. Five minutes later, they pulled away into a parking on the right side of the road. A glowing signage that read Diamond-Ice illuminated an oversized building in the area where they parked.

The Shadow eased between two buses alongside All-saint road. It was a perfect spot where he could remain hidden and still have a clear view. He reached for the Glock in the glove compartment. His target was on the move. He was out of the vehicle and approaching two men with bodyguard-like dispositions downstairs the Diamond-Ice building. The man on the passenger’s side that followed was a well-built six footer. The Shadow had a clear shot but he didn’t want to make a mess. He needed a slick getaway. He was determined to take the target out but his parking did not permit him a hurried escape.

He swapped the Glock with a semi-automatic sniper rifle then slowly screwed on the suppressor. He inspected his immediate surrounding and took aim but the target handed something to one of the bodyguards and was already disappearing up the nightclub’s stairs.

‘SHIT!’ The Shadow hissed. He lowered the rifle then placed it carefully on the back sit.

‘Patience is a virtue.’ he thought to himself. ‘I know exactly what to do next.’

Three

……………

The pleasurable moans the irresistible blonde gave off while firmly pinned beneath Baptist consumed his entire body. His thrusts were hard and deep.

‘Oh God fuck me! Oh yeah, take me Baptist.’ Shakira’s playful cry filled the cabin of the fishing boat where she was being nailed.

She enjoyed having Baptist inside her. She always did. He was big and he always did it as rough as she liked.

‘Ah…yeah...ah…Bitch…you like that; don’t you?’

Baptist increased momentum. He was on the verge of climaxing when his phone went off.

‘Oh no babe…don’t answer it…please don’t answer it.’ Shakira mesmerized him. She knew how to please him in many different ways.

It was four months aback they’d meet each other at Koconut Breeze where she worked as a bartender. It was a slow Sunday afternoon when all of a sudden a bunch of adrenergic males swarmed the bar. Judging from their boisterous behaviours, they were already semi-tanked. The man that approached was the only one who seemed self-possessed. He was big and handsome and when he spoke, she almost laughed out loud. How could a man with such a large physique possess such a tiny voice?

‘Scotch