Left Like a Bleeding Buoy in the Mediterranean Sea

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Page 170: After being drugged at the Skybar in Beirut I am taken to a beach on the Mediterranean Sea.


My body is so numb I can't feel it being sliced open. The image of Axel’s filthy feet moves out of my sight replaced by a much larger sandal with crusty, gnarled toes.


A much larger man leans into my eyesight, filling my entire view. It 's Ihsan, he grasps a handful of my hair and starts to pull me through the sand into the cold Mediterranean Sea bobbing like a bleeding buoy.


Above the sound of the waves and through the burning pain of salt water lapping into my wounds, I hear Ihsan’s husky voice say, “It won’t be long before the sharks find him.”


Page 204: After eight months or two-hundred-twenty-days, which is three hundred sixteen thousand and eight hundred minutes since Beirut, I hunt Axel down at a Pueblo in New Mexico.


I knock Axel unconscious, take the knife from his hand and roll over him shouting in Arabic, “This is for Beirut.”

I place the knife to his forehead. Then I begin to cut and violently yank his scalp sounding like Velcro as I peel it from the crown of his head. He screams so loud it echoes across the rocky hillside.


I hold the patch of hair up for him to see the blood drip from it onto his face and shout, “Comanche Justice.”


To join Kachada Toscano on his unimaginable journey where two parallel universes—the chilling ancestral traditions of the Comanche Tribe and the ruthless code of the Sicilian Mafia—mysteriously intersect, visit my website donsedei.com and choose Amazon, Kobo, Barnes & Noble, Google Play or Google Books to purchase DAY ONE: Birth is a death sentence.


WARNING: This tale will rest on the backside of your eyelids and cause many a restless night.


DAY TWO: Leave no enemy alive is on its way.

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