Out of the Shadows (Falcon) (7 page)

BOOK: Out of the Shadows (Falcon)
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Oscar believed
Angel knew how he thought. He saw the big picture. And he was the only member of his cartel who knew what they planned to do. But even he did not know the complete plan. Oscar had no intention of telling him.

Eyes back on the road,
Oscar nodded, and Angel pulled out his cell phone and made a call. The matter was taken care of immediately. Oscar was very happy with the way things had turned out. Now he would be free to do anything he wanted.

Falcon Securities and Frank Hamilton would be his first target. They would learn to fear and respect him. It wouldn’t take lon
g for them to realize no one could stop Oscar Chavez. No one!

He was thro
ugh fucking around. 

Soon they reached
their destination. The place could be seen from a mile away. Lights, bright as Mexico City, lit the surrounding area. No sneaking up on La Hacienda. No, no, he was a careful man. The thought of him finally getting revenge on the CIA agent, Kate Stone, lifted his spirits and brought a smile to his face. Everything was going as planned.

Kate’s nerves tightened and she tried to steel herself for the worst. Being beate
n was pretty much a given. She’d wronged Oscar and he’d take a lot of pleasure knocking her around.

Also, he had to show his men what happened when someone
screwed with him. Kate’s life stood on the very edge of destruction. In the end, she would die. That was a certainty.

She prayed for a quick death.

As they drove through the open gates, the words
La Hacienda
arched across the entrance in steel, Kate’s stomach lurched, and she shivered. At the compound, Kate was hauled out of the car by a heavy-handed man twice her size. Fist around her upper arm, he led her toward the door. They walked behind Oscar. If she’d a knife she would’ve stabbed Oscar between the shoulder blades.

The place was a fortress. High cinder
block walls surrounded the area, and armed men walked like prison guards along a trail of wooden planks behind the stronghold.

The circular yard was a barren wasteland except for a well in the center
and a small rose garden off to the side. In contrast, the house was a beautiful two-story stucco villa. Inside all the comforts awaited.

Entering
the cool building she let out a sigh. She was probably going to be killed, but getting out of the hot, dry heat cooled her skin immediately
.

Left
alone
to stand in the middle of the room, Kate waited. Oscar wore his usual white linen pants and long-sleeved shirt with the cuffs rolled to mid forearm. He slumped down in the large, overstuffed leather couch and crossed his legs. His long, hard stare burned into her skin. 

“I’m glad to see you again, my dear.” Oscar said. He looked at her
and then took a pack of Marlboro cigarettes off the ornate, square coffee table, removed one from the pack, and flicked his lighter. After a long drag, he put his arm on the back of the couch, blew out a trail of white smoke and stared.

V
ery little had changed since she last graced this hellhole. The tile had been replaced by sandstone slabs, but still no curtains.

A
few walls had been painted a light earthen tone as opposed to white. Other than that, everything within her vision was the same. Even Oscar seemed not to have aged.

Expensive Mexican artist
s’ works hung on the walls. The living room’s L-shaped couch and an overstuffed leather chair faced a coffee table cluttered with flowers, a basket of woven balls, and two tall candles.

Behind the living room,
a dining room with a massive table designed to seat twelve offered opulence. To the east, a windowed wall provided a view of a terrace of lounge chairs, small tables, and palm trees. Beyond that, an Olympic-size swimming pool, complete with tiki huts, and more palm trees invited leisure and refreshment.

“Who is this Falcon agent that brought you here?”

She cleared her throat, dying of thirst. “Brody is all I know.”

“And you’re sure he works for Frank Hamilton?”

“The pilot mentioned that. Yes.”

“I can’t believe Hamilton would send only one man after me. I’ve been expecting an army.”

“Maybe more are on the way.”

Oscar looked her up and down. “By your appearance, I can see you didn’t come willingly.”

“He kidnapped me.”

“Very clever.”

“And dangerous.”

“Yes, I’m surprised he got away with it.” Oscar shrugged. “But then he
is
a Falcon agent.” Laughter filled the room.

“What happened to the man he came for?”

Oscar took a drag off his cigarette and turned away. “Not good.”

“Is he dead?”

“No, not dead yet.”

“Does he need a doctor
?”


I don’t know, and I don’t care. If he dies it will not be my fault.”

“I don’t think Falcon is going to look at it that way.”

Oscar shrugged. “What can Falcon do to me? As you see, we’re safe. No government agency can make Oscar Chavez do anything. If they try, I’ll blow up their homes, kill their families, and destroy their lives.”

“So, I guess the Mexican authorities have paid you a visit?”

“Yes, they have, but to no avail. No one bosses me around. Nobody tells me what to do.”

“Eventually you’ll have to deal with the agent, the guy named Brody, and Falcon.”

“I gave orders to kill this Brody. He will not live to see the morning sun.”

Her chest physically ached.
“And what about me?”

Oscar stood, walked over to her and slapped her
across the face. She fell to her knees. He kicked her backward in the chest. Pain shot through her body like a forest fire as she collapsed. He stomped her in the stomach before she rolled into a fetal position. The toe of his boot dug in hard against her right kidney. Kate thought she’d pass out from the pain.

His vice
-like grip circled her arm, and he yanked her to her feet. She looked into eyes filled with deadly intent. A stinging shot scorched her cheek when he slapped her again. With a savage growl, he flung her on the couch. She landed hard, bounced off to lie between the couch and the coffee table.

On her hands and knees, Kate crawled away from Oscar, only to have him s
hove aside the edge of the couch. He kicked her in the face. Through the haze of pain, Kate tasted blood. He reached down and grabbed her hair.

“I promise you this, bitch. You’re not leaving here alive.” 

 

 

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

Georgetown, Virginia

Not far from the Potomac River, in the end unit of Wormley Row on Prospect Street NW, two bodies lay entwined. Their grunts and groans echoed off the walls of the expensive townhouse.

Moments later
Monique Sutherland pulled the satin sheets over her breasts and panted, waiting for her heart rate to return to normal. Vice president, Ron Rafferty, didn’t bother to cover his naked body. Instead he reached for a joint from the engraved gold case she’d bought him for Christmas. Casually he flipped his lighter and the flame brightened his face.

After a strong drag from the rolled marijuana cigarette
he offered her a hit. She took a dainty puff without inhaling and handed the damn thing back. She hated the smell of that crap. It stunk up the whole condominium and made her expensive clothes reek.

But
she dared not say a word. The man she shared her bed with held too much power. He had enough moxie at his command to toss her aside. He could find any number of women to warm his bed anytime the mood struck. However in this case, it was
her
bed.

She rolled over and kissed him on the
mouth. “A glass of wine?”

“Yes, but not that Pinot from the other night. Something milder.”

Monique took up her robe, padded downstairs to her state-of-the-art kitchen, and opened the wine cooler. The bumbling fool didn’t know one wine from the other. He was a stupid hick from Iowa. The only reason president Davis chose him as VP was to get the Midwestern vote.

And hardworking, good-old-country-
boy Ron Rafferty pulled in every ballot needed to win. Unfortunately, now everyone in D.C. had to put up with the moron.

Including her
.

But she’d
been able to pierce that corncob brain and show him the power he could wield as president without waiting for the next election. After a year, he’d finally gotten the message and seen how together they could rule America. All they needed was a brilliant plan, the right opportunity, and the perfect person to blame.

Monique reached for the sleeping pills s
he kept in the cabinet for nights like this when she had later plans that didn’t include him. But... She drew back and tapped her index finger against her lips.

Tonight
she had other ideas, and the time had come for her to lay some ground rules. Ron wouldn’t be waking up in her bed in the morning.

For a year she’d
been there wherever and whenever he needed her. On his arm, in his bed, or in a bathroom waiting for a quickie.

Time
she ratcheted down her accessibility.

Monique went upstairs with two glasses of wine. When she ent
ered the bedroom, Ron ended a call. Was it one he made or received? As she handed him the wine, he offered no information and she knew better than to ask.

“I called your driver,
” she said.

His blond brows lifted as he turned and
looked at her, his mouth hovering near the rim of the glass. “Why?”

“I think you should go home tonight. We don’t want to alert
the media or the president’s insiders.”

His face paled and his Adam’s apple bob
bed. “Why so concerned? Have you heard something?”

“No, of course not.
” She smiled, placed her palm on his chest and gazed into his eyes. “It’s just that stupid Alex Crane and his mistress are all over the newspapers again.”

He swallowed half the wine then
strolled to the bathroom. “Crane is married. I’m not. I can do what I want.”

Monique climbed
onto her bed and sat cross legged among the tangled sheets. “But what would Davis say?”

Ron stopped
, finished his wine, and set the glass on the ceramic counter. She heard the toilet flush, and he left the bathroom. After a long, hot ravenous look, he gathered up his clothes.

They both
knew that for now being linked romantically could be detrimental to their ultimate goal.

W
ith his light blond hair, good looks, solid build, and strong Nordic ethnicity, Ron looked handsome. At fifty he had the appearance of a man in his early forties. He shoved a long leg into his pants.

A widower without
children, he was indeed a free man. But no one under President Davis did as he pleased. Davis ran a tight agenda, and Ron knew it. If they were sleeping together, the commander and chief would expect full disclosure. Something they couldn’t afford.

Not with so much on the line.

***

Brody
regained consciousness in varying degrees. From a throbbing headache to blinding pain in his neck to the humiliating realization he’d been attacked from behind. The smell of dirt and burnt food assaulted his nose as he struggled to stand.

Hands
planted firmly on the ground, he rolled over and looked into the barrel of his own gun. Behind the weapon stood the man he’d given the money to earlier.

Carefully
Brody scooted into as sitting position on the packed-dirt floor. Finally able to lean against the warm sod wall, he touched the back of his head.

Blood stained his fingers, but that wasn’t his biggest worry.
The man with the gun stood so close that if he pulled the trigger, Brody wouldn’t have a face left to identify.

“You’ve been given order
s to kill me?”

“Sí
.” The man shook like a ten-year-old girl with a snake in his hand. Obviously murder wasn’t his trade of choice.

Brody doubted the man had ever held a
gun as sophisticated as his weapon. The Springfield Armory XD 9mm Glock, was loaded with a Streamlight TLR-2 tactical light and a laser sight. That weapon could do some serious damage since the hollow-point bullets were specially made for high-velocity impact.

Around him several villagers
anxiously waited for the execution, which didn’t help Brody’s cause or relieve his anxiety. Some inhabitants whispered but most remained quiet.

“You don’t look like a killer
.”

Sweat
peppered Manuel’s face. The death grip he had on the gun proved he feared dropping the weapon as much as shooting someone. “I will do as Chavez says.” Manuel raised his elbow and wiped his sleeve across his face. “If I do not, everyone in the village might die.”

BOOK: Out of the Shadows (Falcon)
3.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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