His eyes glazed over, and his penis stiffened…

The driver was a fat gutted Brazilian bastard, called Vincent, a brilliant driver, a sadistic killer and had a large appetite, not just for killing.

Next to him was Philippe, the archetypical Columbian drug lord. Some thought he was the Devil’s spawn. He had handsome, but cruel looks; brown eyes, olive-brown skin, black hair, and ponytail. He was as cunning as a fox, a consummate charmer and utterly loyal to Marco, his boss. That is why he was Marco’s second in command, though Philippe intended to take over from Marco, very soon.

Carla Day had transformed her appearance to look like a cute, but rough little tart of twenty-six. Her slightly husky voice made her appear mouthy, and hinted she probably took drugs. Her shoulder length blond hair was a bit of a mess, wild like her.

What she could not disguise was her quick wits, her angelic face, and sapphire blue eyes. With care and grooming, she would be stunningly attractive.

She pondered a while, considering the events that led her to this situation.

Carla was scared. She knew that at the end of the ride was a bullet in her pretty head. She had messed up big time ripping off Marco. It was not her fault Philippe’s goons had blown up the drugs, in the Cherokee. Well, it was, actually!

She knew the risk, but had got away with a similar scam, elsewhere in Italy. Crooks do not run to the police when they are ripped off, so she thought she stood a good chance of getting away with it.

She felt a little emptiness at the loss of Tim, the guy she worked with, who had also been her lover.

“What a waste,” she thought. “A good-looking hunk like that.”

She shuddered when she relived in her mind, the grotesque way he had left this world, gut shot and dragged along the road. Then she felt the awful feeling of dread, the sick feeling deep down in her stomach, the feeling of her bowels opening, out of control. She would be dead like Tim, soon!

Carla suddenly refocused her thoughts and regained composure. Everyone had gone quiet now, each man preoccupied with personal thoughts.

Carla knew that she was up against four ruthless killers who knew she was on her way to certain death, though no one had let on. That was Philippe’s orders. He thought she would be more manageable and perhaps more cooperative if she could see a way of getting away with her life. The others could see the logic in that.

She quietly visualized a number of scenarios, all relying on surprise.

However, even if she could kill all four armed men, how could she control the speeding car on this mountain road, from the back seat?

The road had a precipitous drop on one side and a rock face on the other. On one hand, at 60 to 80 km/hr. the car would ricochet off the rock face and plunge over the precipice, or on the other hand, just plunge.

Then the answer came to her, and she smiled to herself.

The men were still quiet, Pepe had gone much further with his imagination and only his body was in the car. Steve was arguing in his mind with Philippe, justifying his position, and convincing himself that he could get away with it. The argument was of course all one sided and did not consider any counter argument. Nevertheless, it took his full concentration, and it showed on his face as a series of mild grimaces, twitches and rapid eye movement.

Vincent, the driver was hoping he would get to execute Carla. He envied most other men; the likes of Steve, Philippe and most of all, dear departed Tim. They all had no trouble getting women; even old Pepe had a gorgeous wife. He had heard, and believed, good looks were not particularly important to women, so why couldn’t he get a beauty? He imagined that if he said to Carla. “Stick with me and I will spare your life, we can make a life together,” she would go for it. He fantasized about being with her, he would make love to her, she would be a willing lover because he held her life in his hands, and then he would kill her!

His arousal gradually reduced the cars speed by 20km/hr. Only Carla noticed.

Philippe was preparing in his mind for the meeting with his boss, Marco. He thought he, Marco and Carla would sit down together in a relaxed atmosphere. They would ask Carla where the €2,000,000 of cash she and Tim had made off with, was kept.

They were going to give the impression that they believed Carla had been loyal, even though the exchange at Caserta had gone wrong.