Donovan hadn’t given much thought to why the chief wanted Tarzan. There was bad blood between them, he guessed. The chief planned on settling a few old scores. The way they did in this stinking sweat-hole. Jungle justice.
Frankly he didn’t give a shit. The chief had kept his side of the deal. Enough native muscle power to take over the village. To grab the treasure, plunder that shrine.
The chief had his Tarzan. THEY had their treasure, they were made. What more was there to say? Turned out happy in the end. That was the end of it for Donovan. And there was that native still strung up in the hold of the boat too. A bonus. Make a bit extra to cover expenses when they traded him in with some slaver. What was there to complain about?
What did they need to drag it out for? Partners celebrating …..? Like they and the chief were some life-long buddies …?. What the …..! They’d kept their end up. Delivered Tarzan as agreed. A business deal. End of the matter. Get the fuck outta there ….
What the chief had against this sucker Tarzan .. nothing to do with him. Donovan wanted away. But it seemed the chief wanted their company .. to celebrate what they’d gained. And this muscle-head on the river bank, the one the chief had sent with the invitation .. well, he looked the part to make his chief got what he wanted. They went.
It still came as a bit of a surprise, though. Guided back into the village. To be greeted by the sight of the whole village turned out. In party mood. And that Tarzan strung up in the air. Hung off some frame in the middle of the screaming village. And having the shit beaten out of him. Some muscled black wielding a cattle whip on his back .. going for it .. dishing it out good and hard.
Donovan stopped in his tracks. He looked over at Reilly. His partner pulled him a face. Something neither of them had expected. The chief had commissioned them to hand over Tarzan. They hadn’t given a fuck what the bad blood between them was. When they’d casually wondered between the pair of them what the chief’s beef was, they’d assumed some unfinished business. They didn’t give a shit. They were crooks not philosophers.
The sight was more than they’d bargained for. The chief had ordered Tarzan captured. You could see that. Not invited Tarzan to come visiting. Somehow Donovan had got the idea that Tarzan would have turned down any invitation from this chief. Now he could see why. Hanging off his arms .. feet off the ground .. by the looks of him the apeman had taken a fair number of thwacks already. Nasty red stripes across his front. And now some black fucker was laying into his back. Each blow cheered by the crowd. A lash tore a pained grimace across the apeman’s face. The force of the blow sent him swaying.
They hadn’t bargained on this. True, the chief’s offer had been too good to turn down .. enough muscle power to rob that shrine empty. All they had to do was trick Tarzan into turning up. The chief had kept his end of the bargain. And they had delivered theirs .. captured and handed over the apeman.
And here was the pay-off for their deal. That Tarzan having the shit beaten out of his hide. They hadn’t given a pair of fucks what this chief wanted him for. But they hadn’t reckoned on this. And they certainly hadn’t planned on watching. Worse than they’d ever would have imagined. Looked like some nasty act of revenge. More than bad blood. Jungle justice. And pretty rough-fucking justice too.