“Well, everyone knows how my family feels about me,” said Reichart with a shrug. “I am nothing but a homosexuell, a queer to them.” He looked at Derek with a grin as he elbowed Lafayette. “The Frog and I have nothing planned, and I know he’d rather watch me blow things up than eat quiche with his family.”
“Tu es un salaud, (you are a bastard) Monsieur Reichart,” said Lafayette. “However, in this case you are a salaud who is correct.” He elbowed Reichart back and they headed out the door, patting Derek on the shoulder as they passed.
“Well, I know that MI-35 cost a bundle, and it’s still got all those munitions on board. It’d be a waste not to use them,” said Young Bear as he headed out behind Lafayette.
Mumphord chimed in. “Fuck it. It’s personal to me, too.” Wilson and Johnson nodded in agreement and followed Lafayette out the door. Smiling, Derek fell in behind them.
They stopped when they saw the rest of the team leaning on the Jeep, Lazarus sitting behind the wheel.
“Need a lift, Grimsy?” asked Lazarus, getting more than one muffled laugh in response.
“Fuck you lizard-boy,” answered Derek, flipping Lazarus the bird. “I’m driving the Toyota. I’ve spent enough hours as a passenger the last two days.”
With that out of the way, they filled both two vehicles and headed towards the airstrip.
They’d traveled about a quarter mile when they heard an explosion. They looked back to see the house disintegrated by the blast. There wasn’t even a wall standing. Even more impressing to Reichart was the lack of fire.
“Now that is how you say goodbye to an old house,” laughed Reichart. “Eno, my fine Cubano, you must teach me that method. I’ve never seen an explosion of that size with no flames.”
If there had been any doubt about what Lazarus was prepared to do, it disappeared with the plantation house. A calmness settled over them as they drove along. It no longer seemed odd that one man would take on a Drug Cartel compound, by himself if necessary. They also began to understand his relationship with Derek was far more important to the Chameleon then any of them could have anticipated.
Part Two - Retribution
~15~
November 12
5:45 am – CST
Lazarus decided to leave the airstrip intact – for now. There was strategic value in keeping it functional. He wasn’t ready for the AC-130 or the MI-35. There were decent living quarters above the office. Encarnacion had most of his personal belongings there.
He called Katsumi once airborne.
“Good morning, Sir,” she said cheerily.
“Good morning, baby girl,” replied Lazarus as warmly. “First, yes, Mr. Black is safe and there were no casualties on our side; none. So please pass that along to Angelique.”
“Will do, Sir. Miss Angelique and Miss Rebecca have gone to Key West shopping. Miss Angelique was nervous. She did a good job of hiding it from everyone but Baxter. You know how he is around stressed people. He kept snuggling her until I thought Cheyenne was going to have a fit. It was funny. I think somehow Cheyenne figured it out. She stopped bothering him after half the day. She even let him in the bed with Miss Angelique.”
“Sounds just like your big red-headed handsome man,” laughed Lazarus. “That is one perceptive dog.”
“Now, what is it you need me to do, Sir?” asked Katsumi.
The connection went silent for about thirty seconds before Lazarus answered. It was as though a different person spoke. “I’m going after Camacho, Kat,” said Lazarus, the intensity in his words becoming palpable; his voice cut like an icy wind through the com-link. “I intend to see to his demise within the week.”
Katsumi held her breath. She had never heard anything comparable to the tone in her master’s voice. It chilled her to the bone. She knew intimately what Lazarus was capable of in terms of violence. She also knew how kind he could be. Katsumi was living proof of the faint light of kindness buried deep within the killer. She let her breath out slowly. “What are your orders, Sir?” she asked; unable to stop a slight tremor in her voice.
Lazarus recognized fear in Katsumi’s voice. He understood why. When he answered it was with tender words, delivered for the sole purpose of comforting Katsumi. It wasn’t what he had been planning to say. Lazarus took a deep breath before he spoke again.
“My first order; take a deep breath. Close your eyes, Kat; remember the words I spoke to you at HH’s. The night I took you from O’Brien.”
Katsumi did as she was instructed, hearing those words in her mind. They were as fresh and comforting as when spoken the first time.
Lazarus had told her, “I know you don’t believe me, Katsumi. That’s okay. Just know this; no one will ever harm you again. I will never forsake you. I will never stop caring for you. You have my word.”
The memory of her 18th birthday followed quickly. Lazarus set her free that day. He had given her money; lots of money to go with his offer of freedom. He also offered her college and a chance to serve him. That was the day she freely gave her life to serving Lazarus. She stayed to serve Lazarus because she loved him. A killer who saved her and provided for her. A girl he didn’t know. A girl abandoned on the steps of a convent. A girl who had been brutalized by a Chinese Tong, forced into prostitution, then sold to a sadistic brute, for the sum of $25,000. He did it for her the day they first met.
Lazarus wasn’t her employer or her guardian. Katsumi viewed and loved him as her father. She would never leave. She collected herself, taking a deep breath, responding in a calm, steady voice.
“I understand, Lazarus,” she said.
Lazarus knew she truly understood. Katsumi had used his first name less than a half-dozen times in over a decade. It was her way of removing any doubt about her commitment.
“That’s my girl,” he said with pride. “For the official record, sweetie, I have no plans on leaving this earthly plane for a long time. I still have a lot of life to live, Kat, not to mention quite a few to take in the next few days.” He laughed at his dark humor – so did Katsumi. So, did Derek, having stuck his head into the cockpit, mid-sentence.
Langston harrumphed at Derek from the co-pilot’s seat.
“What’s the game plan?” asked Derek.
“Give me ten with Katsumi and come back,” said Lazarus.
“Can do,” said Derek. He moved down the aisle away from the cockpit and out of hearing distance.
“I’m ready, Sir,” said Katsumi with conviction.
“This is what I need you to do, sweetie, and I need it done quickly. It’s time to get Camacho’s full, undivided attention,” said Lazarus. “It shouldn’t take much after last night,” he added with a grim smile.
“I’m sure you already have it, Sir. He got the photo about 6 hours ago.”
“That’s good, but it’s not enough,” said Lazarus. He reviewed the plan laid out in his mind; the outline for destroying Andres Camacho and his business empire.
“I need you to find as much of the Zapatos money as you can, anywhere in the world and move it to a secure location. The location will be temporary, so you don’t need to be overly cautious with the moves. Camacho will know it’s me behind it. When you’re finished moving the funds, send him an email with my calling card, thanking him for the donations.”
“Yes, Sir,” said Katsumi. “By the way, I didn’t think you would mind, so I took the liberty of tracking a lot of his funds down yesterday. I didn’t have anything to do and it kept me busy. It was very challenging, too. I don’t want to get rusty with my skills.”
“Of course, I don’t mind,” said Lazarus with a laugh. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from the world’s greatest, yet unsung hacker. Now, since you’ve gotten that far already, I’m going to call you back with the secure location in five.”
“I’ll be ready,” said Katsumi as she ended the call.
Lazarus punched in a number and waited.
“Fischer, here,” said the General. “I assume this has to do with Mr. Bl
ack.”
“Negative, General Fischer. Mr. Black, as you know, is safe with me. This is a personal request. I need a favor.”
“Fire away, Mr. Chameleon,” the general replied. “You’ve earned it.”
“Thank you, General,” said Lazarus. “I’ll cut to the chase. I need access to a secure bank account to hold a significant dollar amount, short-term.”
General Fischer replied dryly, “I assume this isn’t going to be for your money, no offense intended.”
“None taken, sir, since you are correct. The money is coming from Los Zapatos. I’m going to requisition, if you will, all of his monetary resources I can access, which so far is substantial.”
General Fischer tapped his fingers on the desk, mulling it over. “What do you plan on doing with the money?” he asked.
Lazarus laughed. “No flies on you, General Fischer. To answer your question; I have no intentions of keeping any of the money. I will be funneling donations into to several world-wide charity organizations; favorites of mine, one of which is the Wounded Warrior Foundation. If I were you, I would anticipate a significant dollar amount going to the CIA. Payment, if you will, for the use of the account and some of your finest operatives.”
“How much are we talking here?” asked General Fischer.
“Best guess, based on experience with Los Zapatos, high 9 figures at minimum. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if it’s over a billion.”
“That’s quite a tidy sum, son” said General Fischer, “and you’re serious about donating it all?”
“Yes, sir, General. I have plenty of my own, enough to last three lifetimes of overly self-indulgent luxury. This is a matter of principle, General. I don’t keep money I don’t earn,” said Lazarus.
“Going after a drug cartel really sounds a LOT like a job to me,” said the general. “What about your expenses, as it were?”
“As I said, sir, I won’t keep a dime of that money. As for the expenses, many have been taken care of by an anonymous donor. Someone who felt he owed me a favor for something I did years ago. If you want to pay someone, pay him. I have expensive tastes in armament and weapons.”
General Fischer realized he had underestimated Lazarus ability to connect the dots. He was close to learning the truth about the payment to Salerno. “Got a pen handy?” he asked.
“I don’t need one. I’ll remember the numbers. I try not to write much down, I truly hate paper trails, General,” said Lazarus with a chuckle.
“I imagine you would, given your specialized line of work,” replied the general with a snort laugh. “There’s a black bag account in Luxemburg. Two people in the government know of its existence. I’m one. The other sits in an oval office in Washington.”
“Sounds perfect to me,” said Lazarus.
General Fischer rattled off the 18-digit alpha-numeric account number from memory. He repeated it twice. “You get that?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” answered Lazarus. He repeated the account number. “Are we good to go, General Fisher?”
“Copy that,” he replied. “Keep me in the loop, son.”
“Understood, sir, and thank you,” said Lazarus.
“No need to thank me,” said General Fischer. “When you get finished cleaning out his bank accounts, call me. I’m thinking about running a parallel operation in Mexico. You and Mr. Black need to be read in, asap.”
Lazarus was intrigued, but he didn’t ask. “10-4, sir. You’ll hear from me within 24 hours. Over and out.” He got Katsumi back on the line.
“Here’s the name of the bank in Luxemburg and the account number to stash Camacho’s funds,” said Lazarus. She didn’t write it down, either.
“It’s a secure account, sir?” asked Katsumi.
“Well, counting you, sweetie, there are now 4 people in the world that know of it. One of them, as General Fischer put it; ‘sits in an oval office in Washington’. Is that secure enough for you?”
“Dang, sir, I guess so!” said Katsumi. “I will have the funds moved by end of the banking business day in Tokyo.”
“You found Zapatos money in Tokyo?” asked Lazarus. He wasn’t the least surprised. He asked to give Katsumi an opportunity to toot her own horn.
“You bet I did, sir. They can run, but that can’t hide from Katsumi Tanaka, hacker extraordinaire,” said Katsumi as sternly as possible. Lazarus could hear the pride in her voice.
“That’s my girl. So, tell me, what are you waiting for, then?” asked Lazarus with a stern voice.
“Christmas, Sir,” she answered as she hung up on him. Classic Katsumi.
Lazarus chuckled as he leaned around the doorway and hollered at Derek. He was lounging near the front of the cabin.
Derek entered to the sound of a low-pitched growl from Langston.
“Langston, kennel,” said Lazarus. The big shepherd shot him a look as he jumped out of the seat, slowly exiting the cabin.
“He really must like that seat,” commented Derek.
“That he does,” said Lazarus.
“So, what’s the game plan?” repeated Derek.
“As we speak, Katsumi is draining every account of Los Zapatos she can locate. Thanks to General Fischer, we have an account to secure the funds.”
“Fischer is in on this?” There was undisguised surprise in Derek’s voice.
“Yep, and he is all-in, as they say. He also informed me he may be running a parallel op in Mexico. I have a distinct feeling it dovetails into my plans to eradicate Los Zapatos.”
“Damn, Lazarus,” Derek immediately slapped his hand over his mouth. A muffled sound came through his fingers. “Shit, man, I used your real name. Fuck me running; sorry man.”
Lazarus glanced at his friend. “Don’t make a habit of it, okay Mr. Crayon?” Then he winked.
“No shit, Lizard-boy. That’s never gonna happen again.” Lazarus believed him.
“You were saying?” he prompted Derek.
“I’m just shocked General Fischer is involved,” said Derek.
“Derek, to be honest, I don’t think we have a clue how deep Fischer is in on this. Hell, he let me use your team for the extraction, and I would bet a dollar to a hole in a donut, he paid for all the equipment, too.”
“How do you figure that?” Derek asked.
“It was something my arms supplier said. She said whoever paid the bill told her he owed me for something I did several years ago. Now, since I don’t believe in coincidence, and as I recall, I pulled your ass out of the fire in Juarez back a few,” said Lazarus with a grin. “That got me to thinking.
“That’s the sort of thing a man in a powerful position would appreciate, with the funds to do it. God only knows how much money the CIA has in its various black bag accounts scattered around the globe. To top it off, the parallel operation. Sounds like General Fischer thinks pretty highly of you, Derek.”
Derek didn’t answer. He was running it through his mind. It made sense. If anyone could pull that sort of shit off in a day, The Director of Covert Operations for the Central Intelligence Agency would be at the top of the list. He filed it away for another day.
“So, now what?” he asked.
“Now,” said Lazarus, “we head to Key West. Your guys need a little R&R. You do, too. As for me, I’ve got a fine-looking woman waiting at the house on Duck Key.
“It’s going to be 3, maybe 4 days before I have Camacho where I want him. First, I’m going to destroy his entire world. Then I am going to slowly take his life.” The smile was gone from Lazarus’ eyes. They’d shifted to a lifeless black. Lazarus was preparing mentally for something he’d never done.
Yes, Lazarus had killed for revenge or retribution, and several times at that. He’d killed to protect Angelique from Ramon. He’d killed two men for the treatment Katsumi suffered as a teenager. He had concluded people important to him would never be safe, not unless he made a statement to the entire underworld. One they would not quickly forget.
He decided to get coverage, if possi
ble, of the assault on Camacho’s compound. Lazarus made a mental note to call Dan at the NSA to see what it would cost for couple hours of satellite time. The cold smile that slowly evolved as Lazarus thought things through, rattled Derek. Rattling Derek was a very difficult thing to do.
Derek had been studying the man he thought he knew well. He knew Lazarus far better than most. The cold smile told him this was different. Lazarus had always been an eye for an eye Old-Testament sort. He killed for hire, he killed some who had abused others, and he killed to protect his own.
It had always been individuals. Not this time. Lazarus was about to go to war with a well-armed drug cartel, holed up in a virtually impenetrable compound half-buried in the Sierra Madres. The longer he studied Lazarus, the more convinced he became the ‘Lizard-man’ might just pull it off. Lazarus was eerily calm; singing a Keith Urban song as they passed over the Caribbean; “I fell in love in the back of a cop car.”
Derek took a deep breath and decided he was all-in, too. He knew his team would follow him into hell, and it weighed heavily on his mind. He wouldn’t order them to come along. Like the man singing in the pilot’s seat had said, “This is personal.” He slipped out of the cockpit, much to the joy of Langston who immediately trotted back down the cabin to re-take his seat by his master, quickly falling asleep.
First, Derek called his dad and told him of his plans. He had to repeat the entire conversation with his mom. He heard the worry in their voices. He also sensed their confidence in him battling their doubts. They had no illusions about Derek not going with Lazarus. It was a foregone conclusion. Derek owed the man his life, twice now. They didn’t make a single attempt to deter their son from what could easily become a suicide mission.
“Son,” said Dan. “Your mom and I are with you 100%. The only thing I ask, and you knew damn well I would; try not to get your ass shot off, okay?”
Derek couldn’t help but laugh. It was the same thing his dad told him the first time he went deer hunting with friends in high-school. He gave him his standard reply.
Family Matters Page 12