Steel Assassin

by Geoffrey Saign

  Steel had expected this. He ignored Christie’s sharp glance. Perhaps the Colombian or one of his associates had watched the house and seen the military. Even if they had followed the soldiers to Jeffries, they wouldn’t know anything more than what they saw from outside the house.

  He decided to give the Columbian most of the truth. “I don’t know who they were. They’re professionals, and they want the Alvarez cartel leaders dead. If we don’t cooperate with you, they threatened to hand us over to the police. I had to tell them about you to give them a reason for killing Garcia.”

  There was a pause on the other end of the phone. “Your military?”

  “Maybe.” Steel kept his voice even.

  “Why would your military be tracking Garcia? That’s DEA territory.”

  “I don’t know. They wanted to follow us. I told them no. Any chance another cartel is trying to get rid of Alvarez’s people?”

  “Did they have Hispanic accents?” The Colombian sounded doubtful.

  Steel paused, wanting to give the Colombian an alternative to the military. “No, but they could be hired mercenaries.”

  “All right. Drive west. You don’t have time to get a hotel. I’ll be in touch.”

  The call ended.

  Christie eyed him. “Isn’t it risky to lie to him?”

  “If he learns for certain the U.S. military is involved, he might get nervous and run.”

  “And kill Harry,” she said.

  He massaged the back of her neck. “He might be ex-military too, which means he would guess it was U.S. Army. I think he’ll be more careful, but he wants his vengeance more than any concerns he has of being caught.”

  CHAPTER 15

  At Glenwood Springs, Steel said, “Stop at a gas station.”

  Christie frowned. “The tank is three-quarters full.”

  “I want to examine the car without being too obvious.” He looked at her. “The Colombian or Colonel Jeffries could have put a tracker on it.”

  “Is it a bad thing if Jeffries is tracking us?”

  He shrugged. “I’d rather have control over any appearances he makes. Saving Harry’s life won’t be at the top of his list of priorities.”

  “Right.” She adjusted the rearview mirror. “We haven’t been followed.”

  “Good.”

  She pulled up to a gas pump and filled the tank, while Steel pulled up the hood and inspected the engine for a tracker. Slowly he went around the car and checked the frame.

  He found it close to the rear passenger axle. Small and round. Sophisticated. He slipped it into his pocket. Going around the car, he winked at Christie. She winked back and he smiled. He was glad he could still do that, even if he wasn’t smiling inside.

  When an SUV driver opposite their pump went into the station, Steel drew one of the hand towels from the center island and dropped it. While picking it up he attached the tracker to the undercarriage of the man’s vehicle.

  They got into their car and left.

  “Who do you think it was?” she asked.

  “Jeffries. High tech.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “He might be upset.”

  “Tough.”

  “Food?” she asked.

  “Something gourmet.”

  “Mexican it is.” She smiled.

  He stared at her, wondering how she could be playful when she had almost died.

  She found a fast food drive-through and they ordered burritos and quesadillas to go. After getting their food, they drove to the empty parking lot of a store, parked, and ate. Christie took two of the painkillers.

  Finished, Steel leaned his head against the headrest. “I’m tired. Can you drive first? When you’re tired, wake me and we’ll switch seats.”

  “I aim to please. Take forty, Jack. I’m wide awake.”

  The phone rang.

  He answered on speaker. It was the Colombian.

  “There’s a truck stop just outside of Grand Junction. Stop there, park on the far east side of the parking lot, and wait for my call.”

  The phone went dead.

  Christie eyed Steel. “What do you think that’s about?”

  “I don’t know. Nighty night.” Steel closed his eyes and was out instantly.

  ***

  He woke to Christie gently shaking his shoulder. The nightmare ended, Marita’s disfigured face the last image in his mind.

  Rubbing his eyes, he watched Christie get out of the car and stretch. He did the same, trying to shake off the disquiet he felt over the dream. Watching Christie, fury at the Colombian swept him for a few moments. He looked around. Christie had parked on the east side of the truck stop, as the kidnapper had requested.

  The phone rang.

  Christie walked around the front end of the car to stand beside him as he answered it.

  “Your second target is Victor Sanchez, also an alias. He is in California, tasting wine and visiting Sequoia National Forest. He has six men, as well as his girlfriend. Kill all of them except the girlfriend. He’ll be there no more than twenty-four hours, and it’s a fourteen-hour drive for you. I’ll text his address soon and send a photo.”

  “Vincente Alvarez.” Steel wanted to be sure. “Garcia confirmed it.”

  There was a short silence on the other end of the phone. “Garcia gave you his name. Good. Now listen very carefully if you ever want to talk to Harry again.”

  “We’re listening.” He was glad the Colombian had affirmed Garcia’s information.

  “When I say throw it, I want you to toss the phone and car keys into the weeds adjacent to the lot. I’ll be watching you. Then I want you to get your duffel bag and run to the back of the truck stop. There’s a blue sedan, older model. Get in. Keys are under the driver seat. You have two minutes to reach the car or you won’t be speaking to Harry. Now throw it!”

  The call ended.

  Steel threw the phone, while Christie ran to the driver’s side to get the keys and her purse. She popped the trunk for him and threw the keys into the grass. Grabbing the duffel bag, he ran toward the back of the lot. Christie was already a dozen steps ahead of him.

  Semis and trucks filled the parking spaces. They ran past them looking for the car.

  “Here it is!” said Christie.

  The sedan was parked between two semis. As they ran a phone rang from inside the car—audible since the driver’s window was down.

  Christie jumped behind the steering wheel and picked up the phone, putting it to her ear while pulling the trunk release. After throwing the duffel bag in the trunk, Steel hustled into the front seat.

  Still listening, Christie found the keys and started the car. Putting down the phone, she put on her low beams and drove straight off the lot into the grass, talking as she drove.

  “He said to drive straight ahead. We’ll see tire tracks. Go slow, use low beams, follow the tracks to a side road, and drive back to the highway and take it west. He wanted to make sure we weren’t followed and the car wasn’t being tracked. We’ll talk to Harry within two hours.”

  Steel leaned back. “He’s smart and that makes him dangerous. And that also confirms that Jeffries ordered the tracker.”

  “Garcia gave us two names, Vincente and Diego, so how did you guess the next hit was Vincente?”

  He studied her. “I figured it was more likely that the man had chosen the same first letter for an alias instead of Diego.”

  “You didn’t mention Diego.”

  “Maybe the Colombian doesn’t know about Diego. I don’t want to add another target to our list.” The dirt road was a little bumpy and Steel settled in. “How are you doing?”

  She grimaced. “I’m tired of playing this guy’s game. I want to know if Harry is safe.”

  “I’m with you on both counts.” He picked up the phone and dialed Carol’
s number. She answered. His ex–wife and daughter were on the road and hadn’t been followed. Carol put Rachel on the phone, and he smiled at hearing his daughter’s voice.

  “Hey, Dad, we’re on a road trip.”

  “Are you enjoying it?”

  “Yeah. Mom said you’re going to join us if you can.”

  “I will, honey, if I can make it. I want to.”

  “Mom said we can go through South Dakota and see buffalo and reptiles.”

  “Wish I was there with you, Rach.” He meant it—and resented the Colombian even more. He had spent many years hiking, caving, and birding with Rachel, and now he had brought an element of chaos and danger into her life. If they made it through this, he told himself it would never happen again. “Do you want to talk to Christie?”

  Rachel didn’t hesitate. “Sure.”

  He handed the phone to Christie, who said, “Hey Rachel. We heard a cool owl in the forest.” They chatted a little longer before Christie hung up.

  Steel eyed her. “You’re good with her.”

  Christie smiled. “She’s easy to talk to.”

  It had taken Rachel a while to adjust to the fact that he and Carol had divorced while she had been held by a kidnapper for two years. At first Rachel had resented Christie, but in the last few months things had been better. He was thankful for that.

  “Never wanted kids of your own?” he asked.

  Christie shook her head. “My career mattered more, and I’m fine with playing the cool aunt to Clay’s two boys.” She glanced at him. “Or a friend to Rachel.”

  “That makes me happy.” He cleared his throat. “You need to call Clay.”

  “What do I say? Killed five men, Harry might die soon, gotta kill seven more, nothing else new? He’ll be angry.” Her voice softened. “They might want to join us and that can’t happen either.”

  He understood. “You want me to do it?”

  “Might be best.”

  He punched in the number she gave him and put it on speaker. Clay answered, and Steel filled him in briefly about the Garcia hit. Continuing, he said the Colombian was directing them to another location in California to go after another cartel leader. He quickly added that Colonel Jeffries’ men were joining the search for Harry, and that he and Christie were sanctioned on the cartel murders.

  Silence.

  “You didn’t tell me about the Garcia hit in the last call, Christie.” Clay’s voice had an edge. “Did you both decide that?”

  Christie heaved a sigh. “My decision, Clay. Jack asked me why I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to worry and there was nothing you could do.”

  Another pause, then, “Neither of you got hurt?”

  “Scratches.” Christie frowned. “We’re fine.”

  “No more secrets, agreed?” Clay’s voice was gruff.

  “Alright,” said Christie. “Agreed.”

  Clay continued. “A gas station attendant saw a white pickup headed north. We’re taking side roads that look promising for hiding a truck.” He paused. “Be careful.”

  “Thanks, Clay. Any news, let us know and we’ll do the same.” Steel hung up, wondering how many white pickups there were in Colorado.

  “That’s something.” Christie’s wooden expression echoed his own disappointment.

  The dirt road ended at a curbed street. Christie gently took the car down the curb and onto the pavement. Taking side roads out of the housing area, they were quickly back on the highway, headed west.

  While Christie drove, Steel studied a text from the Colombian. Vincente’s photo and a hotel address. Vincente was clean cut, in his forties, with black hair. Buff.

  Steel showed it to Christie. California was going to be harder than Vail in every respect. He sent Vincente’s photo to Jeffries to forward to the DEA.

  Christie yawned. “I’ll drive another three or four hours, then you get to take over.”

  “Great.” Curling up, he closed his eyes. His last image was that of Christie’s taut face. It angered him that she had to suffer and worry. And he didn’t want to think about killing seven men.

  CHAPTER 16

  Harry woke up drowsy. They had drugged him and he had no idea how long he’d been out. He wanted to rub his eyes, but his hands were tied behind his back and his ankles were tied together. No longer amateurs.

  He fingered the wrist binding. Zip tie. Easy to break if he could slip his hands beneath his butt and feet. His watch was missing from his wrist.

  His head was still near the tailgate and the gag over his mouth snug. At least he could breathe. He wasn’t lying on carpet anymore, just the hard truck bed.

  The other thing that had changed was that the truck bed had a different odor. He had a keen sense of smell and it seemed as if someone had transported dirt in the bed recently. They must have changed trucks. The guy with the woman had to be strong for those two to lift him.

  He had color blindness, making dark colors in dim light hard to identify. Still he stared at the truck’s color. Blue or black or dark green. He couldn’t be sure. Not white though.

  The truck stopped.

  He waited, remembering the last comment by the man about killing him. He felt certain they planned to do it. Escape was mandatory. His mouth was dry and his stomach growled. And his legs were restless from too little movement.

  Someone unlocked and opened the tailgate. He couldn’t see the moon, but the faint night light suggested it was still out there. New blacktop. He could smell it.

  The woman appeared in his field of vision this time. Long dark hair. A black stocking mask hid her face. Dressed in jeans, boots, and a white blouse. The hoodie was gone. Simple, but tasteful. Slender, but not skinny.

  Without seeing her face, he couldn’t guess her age. Her voice suggested someone around his age. His musings ended as the shotgun was pressed into the back of his neck.

  The woman came closer and said, “You get to say hi to your sister.” She undid his gag, punched a number on a phone, and held it up to his face.

  “Harry?”

  It was Christie. Her voice sounded gentle and worried. It brought a flood of emotion to his chest. He hated what he had to say, but he would never hesitate to sacrifice himself to help her.

  Gathering his breath, he spoke fast and with force. “I love you, sis. Always remember that. I miss you like I miss the moon and driving with you in Dad’s new pickup on fresh blacktop. Don’t trust them—”

  The woman was pulling the phone away from his mouth before he was finished, but he raised his head and shouted the last words, “—they plan to kill me!”

  A dull thump on the side of his head dropped him back to the trailer, leaving him dazed. The woman yelled at the man in Spanish, and then they were both yelling at each other. They were speaking so fast it was hard to understand what they were saying.

  But Harry did hear Papá. Brother and sister. Maybe their father was orchestrating everything. Must be a crazy family.

  He interrupted their yelling with, “Water, please.”

  “Screw you, gringo!” said the man.

  “We can give him some water.” The woman’s voice was firm.

  She reminded him of Christie when she made up her mind. The product of growing up with tough brothers.

  The man spoke angrily in Spanish and shoved the shotgun back into Harry’s neck.

  “We want to keep him alive and well for now, right?” The woman gently raised Harry’s head and poured water into the side of his mouth with a spout from a bottle.

  Harry took eager gulps.

  In moments the woman pulled the spout out of his mouth and lowered his head onto the trailer bed. The man said something else in a harsh tone to her, and she spoke back just as harshly.

  Harry listened while they argued further, and then said, “You’re never the same once you k
ill someone. Especially if it’s not self-defense. Murder will ruin you, señorita. You and your brother.”

  The woman blurted, “Shut up with your lies, stupid gringo! Your friend Steel seems happy, doesn’t he? And he’s killed many! He killed Marita!”

  Harry swallowed when he heard that name. “He tried to save her. She ran—”

  The gag was positioned over his mouth again by the man, who was swearing in Spanish. At least it sounded that way—ending with, “…estúpido temperamento.”

  “Shut up!” yelled the woman.

  Harry figured he had been right about this being a family affair, and the woman hadn’t contradicted his assumption. The argument was brotherly love for a sister. He would have smiled if his life wasn’t on the line.

  The tailgate slammed shut, leaving him in darkness. The threat of death made him realize that if he survived, he should pursue his dream of building a house, keeping bees, and growing herbs. It was time. He didn’t need to wait until he met someone again. Life was too short. He hoped he had the chance to follow those dreams.

  He licked his lips. The water had tasted good. You done good, Harry. He smiled. Water, giving Christie more clues, creating a fight between his captors, and planting a seed of doubt in the woman’s mind was a great start. And he had more information about his captors. They weren’t just whackos.

  When the woman had mentioned the name Marita, he recalled the story Christie had told him late one night about the Gustavo Alvarez Op. Christie had told him what the cartel had done to the DEA informant, Marita, and why it still haunted Steel.

  In a sense he understood his captors better. If the cartel had raped and tortured Christie, he would have hunted them all down too, or died trying.

  The anger in the woman’s voice indicated vengeance. It was obvious they needed to keep him alive long enough for whatever they were demanding from Jack and Christie. Steel would have insisted on the calls. He wondered what he should say next time. Christie would be going nuts. And her situation with Steel might be as dangerous as his.

  Steel would feel guilty that they had all been dragged into his past problems. The guy was responsible to a fault.