Blood of the Assassin (Assassin Series 5) (11 page)

“I haven’t had a break in two years.”

“Then it’s your big chance. I’ll arrange another meet so you can get paid.” He turned to go.

“No hard feelings?” the younger man asked, the hint of concern in his voice betraying his anxiety.

“It’s just business. Don’t sweat it.”

He watched as the older man strode to the door and swung it open, then stepped out into the waning light and was gone.

The sedan pulled up to the security gate and, after the driver showed his credentials, was waved through. It rolled to a stop at the building entrance, the rear door opened, and Cruz stepped out into the dusk and marched up the stairs into CISEN’s headquarters. Once inside, an armed guard escorted him to one of the meeting rooms, and he sat cooling his heels for a few minutes before footsteps approached from down the long hall.

Rodriguez entered, followed by three other men. He recognized the last man; his hair was longer, but the studied blank expression was as familiar as his dead black eyes.

El Rey
. The assassin, whom he’d last seen at the arraignment.

The newcomers took seats around the large conference room table and Rodriguez nodded to Cruz.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice,
Capitan
Cruz. These men are my associates, working the Iron Eagle case. And I believe you’ve already met...Carlos.” Rodriguez motioned to
El Rey
.

“Carlos? Is that what you’re calling him?” Cruz spat, struggling to maintain his composure now that the assassin was seated across from him. This, the man who had been responsible for so much misery, who had killed his men with abject ruthlessness, and almost killed the president. For a second his vision blurred and he literally saw red, a crimson haze from his blood pressure spiking before he fought his emotions back under control.

“Romero was taken,”
El Rey
said with a shrug, goading Cruz by using his first name.

Cruz resisted the urge to jump across the table and strangle the killer. Instead, he forced a humorless smile. “That would have been confusing,” he acceded.

El Rey
turned to face Rodriguez. “For the record, I don’t think this is going to work. It’s a spectacularly bad idea, actually.”

Cruz nodded. “On this, we agree.”

Rodriguez looked at his men and then returned
El Rey
’s glare. “Everyone’s familiar with your objections. But we don’t have any choice, so we have to make the best of a difficult situation,” he said.

“Why is that, again? Perhaps I’m just slow today, but explain to me again why a lowlife serial killer is a necessary part of this operation. I know he got a pardon, but why am I being saddled with him? Did I miss where he’s got any background in investigations?” Cruz said.

“That’s not your point, it’s mine. My, er, skills, aren’t tracking and finding assassins, gentlemen. As I’ve said before,”
El Rey
said.

Rodriguez shook his head in frustration. “Can we please stop this? We’re wasting time we don’t have. I understand neither of you wants to be in the same room as the other – you’ve both made that abundantly clear. And I’ve made it clear to you that you have no choice in the matter, so rather than wasting your energy protesting the unchangeable, I suggest you start focusing on catching the German before he can carry out this assassination.”

Cruz started to speak again, but Rodriguez cut him off.

“With all due respect,
Capitan
, get over your righteous indignation. I’m not asking you two to go shoe shopping together. Your assignment is to work with each other to find the German. The clock is ticking. ‘Carlos’ here is part of the team, representing CISEN, and that’s the end of the matter. I’m familiar with your sentiments, and they’ve been recorded for posterity. But now we have a job to do, and I’d suggest you get with the program. Am I making myself clear?”

Cruz scowled. “Perfectly. That’s why I’m here,” he said.

“Very well. The first order of business is to get you a home base from which you can run the operation. You can’t do so easily from
Federales
headquarters, so I’d like to propose that you do so from here. I can make a suite of offices available to you...”

“Absolutely not. CISEN is too high-profile. I see nothing wrong with headquarters, except for our friend
El
...Carlos. And that’s just too bad. Headquarters is where I work,” Cruz said forcefully.

“If you think I’m going to start commuting to
Federales
headquarters, you’re out of your mind,”
El Rey
agreed.

One of the men leaned towards Rodriguez and whispered a few words. A murmured conversation ensued while Cruz and
El Rey
stared death at each other. Rodriguez straightened and resumed speaking.

“May I suggest a compromise? We have certain facilities at our disposal. Offsite locations where you can work without issue. One is a block of offices downtown. I can arrange to have as many as you need ready by tomorrow.”

Cruz eyed him distrustfully. “There will be a lot of specialized equipment. And security concerns.”

“Make a list of what you need and I’ll arrange for it. I’ll also have a team in place to guard it twenty-four hours a day. It will be accessible round the clock. At your exclusive disposal,” Rodriguez assured him.

“Figure on enough room for two dozen men, minimum, with at least three or four private offices and a large common area for analysts,” Cruz said.

“And state-of-the-art computers and communications gear, I would presume,” Rodriguez said.

“Yes. Do you have some note paper? I can give you preliminary requirements right now.”

Rodriguez snapped his fingers and the man nearest the door wordlessly rose, returning after a few moments with a stack of legal pads and pens. He placed them in the center of the table and Cruz took one, then began making precise bullet points of his necessities.
El Rey
watched him without comment, and then took a pull on the water bottle he’d brought.

“So what’s your first move? Other than making a shopping list?” he asked in his soft voice. Cruz glanced up at him and continued writing.

Rodriguez cleared his throat. “In addition to Carlos, we’re also assigning a liaison. Claudio Ibarra, here, will work with you closely. You may rely on him for anything you need.”

Claudio, a paunchy middle-aged man wearing a rumpled brown suit, a film of sweat clinging to his forehead, nodded at Cruz and
El Rey
. “Pleased to meet you,” he said without enthusiasm.

“All the latest information we’ve been able to glean is in these. The data is current as of one hour ago.” Rodriguez slid folders to
El Rey
, Cruz, and Claudio. The only one who opened it and studied the contents was Claudio.
El Rey
peered at the folder without interest.

“Do we know if he’s made it into Mexico yet?”
El Rey
asked.

“Regrettably, we don’t. That will be part of what your team will handle – watch for anything suspicious at the borders. You’ll have complete authority over immigration, local and federal police, any interfacing with Interpol...whatever you need,” Rodriguez assured him.

“That never really did you any good when you were hunting me,”
El Rey
observed. “Why would you think it would make any difference now?”

Rodriguez frowned. “That’s exactly why you’re part of this group. We need your expertise. You have considerable depth in areas where we might be lacking. The expectation is that you’ll be looking in places that would be second-nature for a professional, but that we might overlook.”

“I know. We covered all that. Somehow I’m supposed to second-guess a hitter from the other side of the planet and stop him, with exactly zero experience ever doing that before. My position is pretty clear on this. You’re deluded,”
El Rey
said matter-of-factly.

“All right. Here’s the list,” Cruz interrupted, pushing the pad to Rodriguez, who picked it up and studied it while Cruz turned his attention to the file contents.

“We’ll have it set up by tomorrow, six a.m.,” Rodriguez assured him.

“Fine. But you haven’t got anything more recent for a photo of the German? You’re telling me that for over a decade, the man hasn’t had his picture taken?” Cruz snapped.

“I gave you what we have. We’re pulling out all the stops, but we have to be careful about what we ask for in Germany. There’s a strong likelihood he’s plugged in over there, and will hear something the moment we really start probing.”

“That’s all well and good, but I’m not sure that I really care if he knows we’re after him or not. We have to assume he’s expecting to be tracked.”

El Rey
shook his head. “I disagree. If he gets a warning, he’ll be even more careful than usual, and I don’t have to tell anyone in this room that a motivated assassin can elude even the most carefully crafted security. I’ve proved that enough times. You’ll need every edge you can get.”

Cruz studied him with seeming disinterest. “You didn’t elude me the last time, did you?”

“Was that the time that I successfully detonated the helicopter on the president’s head, or the time I penetrated the G-20 and placed a bomb that would have turned it into a slaughterhouse?”
El Rey
shot back.

“I guess you probably get them confused when you’ve failed that often,” Cruz sneered, tossing the pen onto the table with a clatter.

“Gentlemen. May I remind you that we don’t have the luxury of the mutual admiration society? I need you to work together.”

“Where are these offices? I want to swing by and inspect them tonight, after this meeting,” Cruz said, changing the subject. Sparring with the assassin wouldn’t get them closer to their objective, and Cruz knew it was childish to taunt him. Besides which, the bastard exuded exactly zero emotion, so his efforts probably weren’t working.

“Claudio will accompany you there once we’re done,” Rodriguez said.

El Rey
stood after glancing through the file and checking the time. “Which we are. There’s nothing that sitting around here any longer is going to accomplish,” he declared in a mild tone. “And I’m getting hungry.”

Rodriguez pushed back his chair and also stood. “As discussed, you will cooperate with
Capitan
Cruz for the duration of this operation. How you do so is up to the two of you, but I’d strongly suggest that you coordinate your schedules and commit to making this work.” Rodriguez turned his attention to Cruz. “
Capitan
, in that file is the cell phone number for our friend here, as well as my private cell number. If you have any problems, call me. I expect you to hit the ground running tomorrow.”

“Rodriguez, with all due respect, that’s going to be hard, given the paucity of information you’ve given me. We have nothing. I repeat. Nothing. A tip – really, nothing more than a rumor. I’m not sure what you’re expecting, but I’m not a magician. Nothing ever happens fast, and in one of these cases, when we do make progress it’s inevitably because of patient, methodical police work, not wild hunches by ex-killers. I’ll play along with this because I’ve been ordered to, but don’t expect much. You’ve provided me almost nothing to go on, and it’ll be a miracle if we can catch this man before he acts,” Cruz groused.

“Well, there’s a winning attitude that should pump you full of enthusiasm,”
El Rey
said to the CISEN staff. “Looks like I’ll have to do this by myself.”

Rodriguez ignored
El Rey
. “I understand what you’re saying, but we need a miracle here. That’s why we’ve teamed you together. This unorthodox approach is our best shot. The German has successfully evaded the best security in the world for years. I have no doubt that he’ll put ours to the test if we don’t try something out of the box.”

“This is about as unusual as it gets, I’ll grant you that,” Cruz conceded, and then moved around the table.

“Carlos, would you like to accompany the
Capitan
to look over the offices?” Claudio asked as the meeting broke up, addressing
El Rey
.

He shrugged. “Not really. I’ll leave the paper clip counting to the methodical assassin hunter, if you don’t mind. I’m going to get something to eat.”

Cruz threw him a black look, but he ignored it.

“We’ll open for business at nine tomorrow morning. Please be there at ten so I can coordinate my efforts with whatever you have to offer,” Cruz said in a tone that indicated very clearly that he didn’t think
El Rey
could provide anything of value.

“Fine. Call me and confirm the address when you’ve confirmed you’ll take that space,”
El Rey
said, and then pushed his way through the door and was gone.

Rodriguez and Cruz exchanged glances, and Rodriguez extended his hand to shake. Cruz took it reluctantly.

“Nobody said this was going to be easy. I hope you two can work out your differences and make it work.”

Cruz stared down the corridor at where the assassin had disappeared from view.

“Me too.”

When Cruz finally made it back to the condo it was already ten o’clock, and he could hear the drone of the television from the living room. He closed the door gently behind him and twisted the deadbolt, then walked towards the clamor of a studio audience applauding the latest contestant in a singing contest. Dinah was lying on the couch in sweats and a T-shirt, one leg swinging off the edge. She looked up when he stepped into the room, and a warm smile broke across her face.

“
Hola, amor
! You’re back! There’s a plate of food in the refrigerator with your name on it. Enchiladas. Just pop them in the microwave for two minutes,” Dinah said, rising to greet him.

“Perfect. Let me get out of my monkey suit and I’ll be right back,” he said, kissing her lightly on the cheek.

Cruz emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later wearing his favorite jeans and a sweatshirt. The aroma of enchiladas filled the air, and Dinah placed the warmed-up meal on the table in front of him, along with a cold beer. Cruz looked at her gratefully and dug in, the rich sauce reviving him as he shoveled heaping forkfuls into his mouth. She sat across from him, watching him eat, and sipped her soda, waiting for him to finish. He made short work of it, and soon was patting his stomach appreciatively.