Rage Of The Assassin (27 page)

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Authors: Russell Blake

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Crime, #Kidnapping, #Murder, #Spies & Politics, #Assassinations, #Terrorism, #Thriller, #Thrillers

BOOK: Rage Of The Assassin
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“Did you get what you needed?” she asked.

He nodded and lowered his lips to hers. She tilted her head back and they shared a long kiss, and then she pulled away and slapped him as hard as she could.

“You miserable bastard. You promised me, and you lied.”

He raised his fingers to his reddening face and nodded. “I couldn’t allow your stubbornness to interfere with my survival chances. I’m sorry.”

“And what about your commitment to me?”

“You would have slowed me down, Carla. I didn’t want to risk my life in order to make you happy – because those were the stakes. I did what I had to do in order to be successful.” He paused. “I hope you can forgive me.”

“I’ve been up since you left with worry,” she countered, the hurt coloring her tone. “You have no idea how affected I was when you didn’t show up. I got you the visa, everything, and you didn’t even bother to call.”

“I was busy. I had to interrogate several scientists, break into a top-secret lab, that kind of thing. I didn’t see where having a long argument over the phone would help my focus.” He paused. “All I can say is I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry you did it, or you’re sorry about the effect lying to me had?”

“The latter. I was able to get the antidote, so whether or not you agree with me, going it alone was the right call.”

He allowed that to sink in. While he knew he could have handled the situation differently, his methodology had been successful. He didn’t bother to tell her about the kidnappings or the near miss in the lab or the violence he’d used to achieve his objective. Keeping her out of that was part of the reason he’d misled her. What she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her, and seeing his operational side wasn’t something that would do either one of them any good.

She sat and stared at her tea. “I took the job in Spain. I leave in four days.”

He nodded, unsurprised. “That’s great news for you, Carla. It’s the right thing for your career.”

“Don’t try to butter me up. I’m furious with you.”

His lips twitched with the hint of a smile. “I couldn’t tell.”

Carla couldn’t help herself, hating the grin that leapt unbidden to her face. She looked away, but not before he’d caught it. “I
am
glad you’re not dead,” she conceded.

“So am I.”

He took a seat across from her and they sat in uncomfortable silence until she finally spoke. “Are you going to tell me about it?”

He did, leaving out the worst. When he finished, she shook her head. “Then it’s finally over?”

He nodded. “I hope so. I got an extra dose, just in case. Apparently there are a few types who require seven shots instead of six.”

“How do you feel? Any more symptoms?”

“No. I’m tired, but that’s from lack of sleep, not anything else.”

“Do you want to try to grab a little here?”

“If you’ll have me.”

She appeared thoughtful. “You’re really going to have to make this up to me.”

“I plan to. You name it, I’ll do it.”

“That’s the way to a woman’s heart. Be careful what you promise.”

This time he smiled broadly. “Be careful what you wish for.”

He trudged up the stairs to her bedroom and was kicking off his shoes when his cell rang. Nobody had that number…except one man. El Rey freed it from his pocket and glared at the screen before answering.

“Hello.”

“I presume our little subterfuge worked?” Cruz opened with.

“Yes. Thanks.” El Rey frowned. “Is that why you’re calling?”

“Not entirely, although I’m overjoyed that your time was well spent.”

“What do you need?”

“So suspicious.”

“I know you,
Capitan
.”

“Yes, I suppose you do. Just to remind you, I put my neck on the line for you. Now I need some help.”

“With?”

“Nothing for your considerable skills. I just need to track down
Don
Aranas and figure out how to disarm a pair of bombs he’s using to blackmail the government.”

El Rey laughed. “Are you serious? That’s Aranas? The news is all about terrorists.”

“That was a cover story. I was brought into the loop by the president early this morning. I’m risking charges of treason telling you this.”

“Then why are you doing so?”

“Because you’re the only one I know who could find him in time.”

“I’m afraid you’re overestimating my abilities.” The assassin hesitated. “What’s ‘in time,’ anyway?”

“By tonight.”

“You must be joking.”

“I wish I was.”

“It’s impossible.”

“I wouldn’t jump to conclusions. We think we’ve located the bomb maker’s facility.”

“Then arrest him.”

“It’s not that easy. He blew it up. It’s in pieces all over a Mexico City street.”

“Then how do you know it was him?”

Cruz recounted his ordeal with the drones. El Rey listened wordlessly. When he was done, the assassin grunted. “That proves nothing.”

“Perhaps not. But the downed drone was equipped with C-4. I don’t suppose I need to tell you how hard it is to get your hands on C-4.”

“It can be done.”

“There was also C-4 found in the ruins of the building that exploded.” Cruz let that register. “That’s an awful lot of coincidences on a day where there are two C-4 equipped bombs deployed in the city, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Fine. But how does that help?”

“We’re running the traffic camera footage as we speak. It appears a van was used as a getaway vehicle. We tracked it to a house on the edge of town. A car left shortly after the van arrived. We followed it to a rural airfield near Puebla. Briones contacted the tower for a flight plan – a prop job took off ten minutes after the car arrived.”

“Sounds like you already know more than enough.”

“This is where it gets dicey. Aranas read the president the riot act. Said that if anyone shows up anywhere near him, he’ll detonate the bombs.”

“An effective preemptive measure, you have to admit.”

“Yes, and that’s where you come in. I need you to help us…under the radar.”

“How?”

“Travel to where the plane landed and see if you can find either Aranas or the bomb maker.”

“Why not add walk on water while you’re at it?” El Rey sighed. “I haven’t gotten more than three hours of sleep in the last three days,
Capitan
. I’m not up to this.”

“I wouldn’t ask you if I had any other options. You’re the best. If anyone can pull this off, it’s you.” Cruz lowered his voice. “I did you a solid. I need you to do one in return.”

“I was calling in my favor, so we’re even. Besides, that’s considerably more than switching some photos and backing my story.”

The line hummed faintly as Cruz considered his response. “I have no choice.”

“Why should I help you? Risk my life – for what?”

“If he detonates the bombs, thousands of people will die.”

“Then don’t screw him. Problem solved.”

“We can’t be sure he still won’t,” Cruz said. “There are women, children, and pensioners in those buildings.”

El Rey didn’t speak for a long moment.

“If I do this, we’re through, correct? No more reaching out for just one more thing, is that clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Nobody can know of my involvement. I’m officially dead, even to CISEN. I do this as my parting gift, I walk off the edge of the earth, and we’re even. Deal?”

Another long pause. “Deal.”

 

Chapter 46

San Miguel de Allende, Guanajuato, Mexico

 

The colonial charm of San Miguel’s quaint streets, lined as they were with touristy kitsch and façades painted every color of the rainbow, was undeniable, and El Rey admired the view through his distraction as he walked toward the towering spires of the hill town’s famous cathedral. He had a meeting set up with one of the local Federal Police informants at a café on the square, who had been told that he was a logistics specialist from Mexico City. The man, Ignacio Lorna, was a small-time loan shark who augmented his income by snitching on his competitors to the police, and the assassin knew his type well enough to understand that he’d be just as likely to sell them out as provide them information.

The trip on a private puddle jumper had been arranged by Cruz in the time it took for El Rey to get to the airport, and the 140-mile flight had taken less than an hour. Cruz had arranged for a car to be waiting, and El Rey had received the keys from a man who’d been standing on the tarmac when he’d arrived. The man had directed him to the car, a battered Nissan Altima that looked on its last legs, before he’d continued to a pickup truck parked in the shade afforded by a tree’s spreading branches and driven away without looking back.

El Rey parked the Nissan several blocks from his rendezvous and was making the rest of the journey on foot – the less the informant knew about him, the better. Cruz had agreed with him and told him that he had carte blanche with how he handled the operation. As far as the world was concerned, the assassin didn’t exist, and he was therefore deniable. Short of blowing up the entire town, whatever he deemed appropriate was fine – with the clock ticking as the government scrambled to meet the ransom demand, expedience was the order of the day.

Normally the assassin would have allowed more time so that he could reconnoiter the meeting area beforehand and verify he wasn’t walking into a trap, but due to the urgency, he was risking going in cold, a practice he detested, but there was no viable alternative.

The café’s sidewalk tables were mostly empty due to an earlier cloudburst. El Rey pushed past the vacant seats and into the interior, where a man in a green soccer jersey sat at a table in the back, nursing something with foam on top. El Rey sat beside him and, when the waitress came over, ordered a cup of decaf. Once she’d gone to the kitchen to get his drink, he turned to the man.

“Olivero?” he asked.

“The one and only. Arturo, I presume,” Olivero said, using the alias he’d been provided.

El Rey nodded. “You mentioned to a mutual friend that you might have something for me?”

“Yes. There’s a ranch outside of town, maybe fifteen minutes, that’s been empty for months. Yesterday a group showed up and ordered the propane tank topped off, bought enough food to feed an army, and had a water truck deliver a pipe full.”

“Hardly suspicious,” El Rey countered.

“They said you wanted anything that raised eyebrows. That did. Then today, a plumber went out to work on the cistern and said that there were guards posted on the grounds.”

The waitress arrived and set the assassin’s coffee in front of him. El Rey offered her a smile, which she returned with a flash of mahogany eyes and white teeth. He took a swallow and set the cup down to cool.

“Many high-net-worth people have bodyguards,” he observed.

“These guys look hard. That’s how the plumber described them – and he was in the army.”

“I wouldn’t expect bodyguards to look soft.”

“Nobody knows who owns the ranch. It’s always been a source of mystery around here. You know how small towns can be.”

“You mentioned that it had been empty for some time. Who was there before?”

“Nobody knows – they kept to themselves. I just know they were there because the guy who delivers their groceries told me. But he said they went through a lot of tequila and Tecate.”

El Rey took a swallow of coffee and nodded. “Hardly earth-shattering. Where is this ranch located?”

The informant scanned the restaurant nervously. “I could use a little bonus. I’m short on cash.”

“That’s reasonable,” El Rey agreed. The arrangement was that Olivero would be paid the usual way, by his handler; but Olivero was angling for more, and El Rey was short on time and patience. “Say, two thousand pesos?”

“Three would be better.”

“Twenty-five hundred’s the maximum I can expense.” El Rey reached into his pocket and withdrew a wad of five-hundred-peso notes and counted them out. “Now stop stalling. Where’s the ranch?”

“About six kilometers outside of town, on the road to Alcocer.” Olivero finished his drink. “There’s a roadside shrine just before the turnoff. You can’t miss it – it’s fairly elaborate. Family of four, popular in the community. Very sad. Drunk driver never saw them.”

“Right or left side?”

“Right if you’re heading to Alcocer.” He rose. “That’s all I have. Might help if I knew who you were looking for.”

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” El Rey said, deadpan.

Olivero laughed nervously and waved a hand at him. “Okay. None of my business.”

“That’s right. Oh, but Olivero? If you breathe a word about our discussion to anyone, you’ll discover I wasn’t kidding.” The assassin’s tone could have frozen fire.

The informant’s eyes locked with his for a moment and then he quickly looked away. “Yeah, yeah. I know. Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe.”

El Rey drained his cup and debated following Olivero and neutralizing him. He put the odds at fifty-fifty that the man would sell them out. A glance at his watch convinced him to abandon the idea and go for a drive to Alcocer. He needed to move fast and didn’t have the luxury of tying up that loose end, as he would have if he’d been working on a hit.

The assassin placed a call to Cruz as he walked from the café and warned him about Olivero. “I’d have him picked up and locked away for the day,
Capitan
. I don’t need to tell you that we can’t afford a leak.”

“I’ll order the local office to send a car out to his usual haunts.”

El Rey told him about the ranch. “Can you pull up anything you can find on satellite and send it to my phone? It would save me time if I knew the layout.”

“Will do. Figure ten minutes.”

“Make it five.”

“I just got a piece of good news. The government bought us a little more time. They negotiated for delivery of the goods tomorrow by ten a.m. – apparently it’s not all that easy to locate a boatload of diamonds on short notice.”

“That will make it easier, assuming he’s there. Going in when it’s light out would be suicide.”

“I figured you’d be relieved.”

“Relieved would be when you tell me I don’t need to pursue this anymore.”

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