Return of the Assassin (Assassin Series 3) (24 page)

A voice interrupted his thoughts.

“
Capitan
, none of the weapons were fired except for the man by the trees’ rifle.”

He turned to face the sergeant who had approached. “None?”

“No, sir.”

Stranger and stranger.

Whoever had attacked had done so in a manner that had killed all the defenders without any getting off a shot. Unbelievable. That implied a large, coordinated group of highly-trained covert forces. Which didn’t smell like cartels or the local drug gangs. They had no finesse and just used brute force and a hail of bullets. This was precise, which implied planning and expertise.

The stink of something very, very odd was growing by the minute.

When the call came in from the major in charge of the local kaibiles detachment, the captain’s unease was confirmed.

“I have no idea what those men were doing at that villa. We had been approached by one of the ranking members of the government to provide protection for a dignitary. That was all we were told,” the major said, in an entirely unconvincing manner. “But this cannot go un-avenged. Mobilize all possible resources to seal the border. If whoever did this is still in Guatemala, we must leave no stone unturned. I will be calling the general in a few minutes. Consider this a threat of the highest order.”

So nobody knew anything. The nation’s most feared commandos were standing guard alongside armed men who looked exactly like cartel gunmen, but it was all a mystery as to why.

The captain shook his head as he hung up. There were some things he didn’t want to know. He had a feeling that this was one of them. He punched a series of numbers and sent out the alert, mobilizing all available units. If the strike force was still in-country, he could at least make its life miserable.

~

El Rey
edged the ATV cautiously to the planks of the suspension bridge over the river just north of La Democracia, but it was no good. It would never make it across. Perched on the hills, the homes on the outskirts were all swathed in darkness. He debated his choices. The satellite photos showed a larger bridge downstream, but that would mean another fifteen or twenty minutes of crawling along, taking them further from the border, not closer. But they didn’t have a choice. Mobility meant options, and the ATV was mobility.

The border crossing was seven miles west, but it might as well have been a thousand. The fog had thickened until visibility was down to thirty yards, slowing their passage to a crawl. The valley between the border town of La Mesilla and their position was socked in, but he discarded the idea of just tearing down the paved road and making a run for it. Even though they could have made it in ten minutes, it would be suicide. No, instead, he would have to continue sticking to tracks that wove through the mountains, and watch and wait for an opening.

They rolled across the bridge and crossed the main highway and were fifty yards past when the rumble of trucks sounded from the south. A procession of large troop transports and two Humvees roared past them towards the border, followed quickly by the distinctive beating of oversized rotor blades sounding in the distance, confirming that helicopters had been put into play.

It was frustrating to be so close and yet so far away, but that emotion was a luxury he couldn’t afford. It would be light in another three and a half hours, at which time the fog would lift and they would have to go to ground for the day, or risk detection by an air patrol. He pulled to a stop and again consulted the tablet. If they could make it into the mountains south of La Mesilla, they could camp and await nightfall, then either continue their way south, or sneak across the border in that area. It would mean another day in-country, but because of the higher altitude it would be bearable. Elevation was more like five to six thousand feet if they could make it the seven or eight miles to the valley near Boquerón. That would mean averaging two to three miles per hour, which the trail map led him to believe was do-able.

They weaved through the hills, avoiding the worst of the slopes and cutting across fields when they could, the sound of the helicopters now more regular from the border. After two more hours, the little motor began to stutter and grind, and within ten minutes, seized with a shudder and died.
El Rey
consulted his GPS and estimated they were a few miles south of La Mesilla, in the hills. That would put them a mile and a half from the border, and around four from the Mexican village of Pacayal.

“We’re going to hike another half an hour, then get some rest.”

“Why? How far from Mexico are we? Let’s just get over the border, and then we’ll be safe.”

“Easier said than done. It will be light soon, and the helicopters tell me that there are going to be heightened patrols. No, we have to stay put, and then tomorrow, once it’s dark, we’ll sneak across. I can get help once we’re in Mexico. But the other problem is that there could well be cartel personnel on the Mexican side, watching for us.”

“Even more reason to get across now, before they have a chance to mobilize.”

“That would be wonderful. But it’s too risky. We walk, find a good place to camp, and then we do this tomorrow. Here. Take this.”
El Rey
handed Maria the sack with the grenades. She shouldered it. He pulled a backpack out of the case and retrieved a spare magazine for the pistol.

“You ready?”

“Lead the way.”

“How could this have happened?”
Don
Aranas seethed, his hair standing up on one side of his head, matted from sleep. He paced the study wearing a white terry cloth bathrobe, screaming into the telephone as his head of security stood meekly by the door. “This is impossible. It ruins everything, do you not get that?”

He listened as the speaker on the other end of the line went on for twenty seconds.

“I want a hundred men in Chiapas by daybreak. Every town, every border crossing. Put out feelers to everyone we have in the military and the police. I want to understand our options. If we can find out where they are before they can make it to DF, I want the girl captured again, or killed.” Aranas hesitated. “I thought you told me that this location was unknown. Foolproof.” He listened again. “I understand, but if you don’t find her, this is a disaster. We will be hunted without remorse. Get photos circulated of her and pull out all the stops – there is no way a raid could have been coordinated without someone knowing about it. This is too big. You better pray that they don’t have her safe, or it won’t go well for you,” he screamed again, then slammed down the handset.

“Get everyone on the phone. Everyone.” He looked at his watch. “And get some coffee going.”

The security man darted down the hall, relieved to be out of Aranas’ proximity. When he was agitated, he was dangerous, and he had never seen the
Don
more disturbed than he was now. A crash sounded from behind him, and then another.

The
Don
was throwing things.

Time to focus on the coffee.

~

Dawn was just breaking when
El Rey
stopped and checked his GPS again. He looked around the tiny area and then studied the branches overhead. There was no sky to be seen. It was as good a place as any to make camp.

“We’ll stay here for the day. We only have one liter of water apiece, so conserve it. Later on, we can have breakfast. I hope you like granola bars.” He dug in his bag. “Catch,” he said and tossed her the insect repellant and a long-sleeved camouflage shirt.

“Why didn’t my father send more people? Can’t you call someone?” she complained, spraying herself down before donning the top. Maria was clearly not the outdoorsy type, judging by how she eyed her surroundings.

“We’re in a foreign country. I just killed four elite soldiers. Never mind that they were guarding you and helping the kidnappers. Unless Mexico wants a diplomatic incident leading to a full scale war with Guatemala, it can’t send troops in to rescue you.” He left out that while her father would probably have sent in the army anyway, that didn’t fit into his plan – the one where
El Rey
would be guaranteed to stay alive, and one that was near and dear to him at the moment.

“But the soldiers were working with the cartel,” she protested.

“I know. Things get complicated when big money is involved. But there’s nothing we can do about it, so let’s get some rest and save our energy, and tonight we’ll make it across the border and get you to civilization.”

“Are you sure we’re safe here?”

“As safe as anywhere.”

They were interrupted by a searchlight playing over the mountain from one of the big military helicopters a quarter mile away. Maria instinctively ducked.

“Don’t worry. They can’t see us, even with night vision gear. But we have to stay quiet, and not move around. We’ll be way more vulnerable during the day.”

He pulled a green tarp from his bag that he had used to cover the ATV and spread it on the ground.

“You can sleep on this.” He walked over to her and pulled out a set of black steel handcuffs from his belt case, slapping one closed on her wrist before she had a chance to protest and hooking the other to his left wrist. She instinctively pulled her arm away, and he jerked it back.

“This is not a democracy. My job is to ensure we both make it out alive. I can’t afford for you to take matters into your own hands and try to sneak away while I’m resting. No hard feelings,” he explained. “Now come lie down.” He motioned with his free hand.

Maria glared at him. “Are you crazy? How am I supposed to use the bathroom?”

“Very carefully. I only have one roll of toilet paper.”

She began to say something, then stopped.

“Don’t worry,” he shrugged, “I’ll close my eyes.”

~

Briones’ cell phone rang as he was putting on his uniform while gulping his first cup of coffee of the day.

“Yes.”

“We need to meet before you head into the office,” Carlos said.

“Wow. That was fast.”

“Same café? Eight thirty?”

“More or less. Traffic can be a bear at this hour.”

“Do the best you can.”

Briones put the phone on his dresser and took a swig of his drink, wondering what had happened. There was no way they could get surveillance in place that quickly. It had to be something else. But what?

He checked the time. It would be a small miracle if he could get to the meeting anywhere near nine, much less eight-thirty.

So much for an organized start to his day.

~

The sun slowly climbed above the horizon and the fog burned off, retreating over the hills before completely disappearing. When the heat arrived, it wasn’t as bad as the day before, but it was still unpleasant, and both the assassin and the girl were uncomfortable.

Maria, especially, seemed agitated, made more so by the incessant sound of the helicopters.
El Rey
hadn’t slept for almost thirty hours, so he tried to doze, but she was constantly shifting.

Eventually he sat up and noticed that she was shivering in the swelter, sweat beaded on her forehead, her tank top drenched.

“What’s wrong? Do you have a fever?” he whispered.

She shook her head.

He put his hand on her face to check, and she pulled it away.

“Leave me alone, would you?” she moaned.

El Rey
was puzzled. Why was he suddenly the enemy? He took in her face, tense and drawn, the slight discoloration under her eyes, and had a burst of insight.

He pulled her arm towards him and pushed up the long sleeve.

“Wrong arm.”

He nodded. “How bad is it?”

“It’s bad. They were injecting me with heroin. I think I’m addicted now,” she said, then shivered again. Her horror and embarrassment at being dependent on the drug was palpable.

“When was your last injection?”

“Yesterday. Six p.m..”

“This is a hell of a place to go cold turkey.”

“I know. Don’t worry. I’ll be okay. It’s not like I had much choice about it.”

He took in her state. “I’ve seen heroin withdrawals before. It will last three or four days. Gets worse over time. Aches and pains, runny nose, shivers, then you’ll get the nausea and vomiting…” he observed.

“Great. I can’t believe this is happening to me.”

“There isn’t a lot I can do to help right now. You’ll probably have to get weaned off of it once you’re back home. The problem is that your body gets dependent on the drug fairly quickly. I’m not going to lie – this is probably going to be a tough period for you.”

“Like it hasn’t been already.”

El Rey
nodded. “Try to get some rest. You’ll need all your energy for tonight.”

He lay back on the tarp and closed his eyes, sensing her shivering in small spasms next to him.

“Wake me when the nausea or diarrhea start. I’ll rethink my handcuff rule for that,” he said quietly and was asleep within a few minutes.

~

Briones pushed through the double glass doors at five minutes before nine and spotted Carlos at a table near the rear of the café. He brushed past patrons waiting for coffee to go and took the vacant seat opposite him, shaking hands as he sat.

“Nice time of day for a detour from work. Sorry about running late. Traffic was stop and go…”

“I kind of figured. I just got here a few minutes ago myself,” Carlos said.

“What’s the emergency?” Briones asked, but was interrupted by the waitress. He ordered a cappuccino. Carlos got an espresso.

“We started snooping around to set the bugs, but late last night I finally got his cell phone records. Took a little while through my contacts at Telcel. Anyway, first thing this morning I started running numbers to see if there was anything strange, especially around the last two weeks,” Carlos started and then stopped when a couple sat at the table next to them. The woman smiled at them both.

“I see,” Briones said non-committedly.