Honor Amongst Thieves
by John Donald Carlucci
The sharp pain in my stomach was getting worse. I tried not to grimace, but a knife fight in your guts can make your choices for you.
“Sir, you’re sweating a lot.” The stewardess said as she handed me a wet cloth.
“You have that affect on me, doll.” She dismissed me with a tired smile. I needed the bathroom, but my luck put me on a flight that served a bad dose fish to its passengers and the stall has been occupied with one retching person after another. Food services are terribly unreliable on African flights and I’ve learned to never partake.
“Arrrh,” I choked as the other passengers looked on with sympathy. I guess they assumed I had the worst case... I wish.
My partner Benny and I had a bad fight before I boarded. It was the kind of fight that breaks up partnerships real quick.
I absently tongued the bit of dental floss stuck between my back molars as I waited for that damn bathroom door to open.
“Damn it!” Blood stained my hand as I coughed from the pain and I couldn’t wait any longer. I gagged as I reached into my mouth, grabbed the floss, and yanked the bag in my stomach up my throat.
Inspecting the blood soaked bag, I realized what Benny had done. He’d filled it with crushed glass instead of the diamonds I was to mule back to America.
I guess Benny did believe I was stealing after all.