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Evolution of a Killer

Page 14

by Robert Ullrich


  The color faded slightly from Dan’s face. “Kill us? I have no idea who this Torano is, or why he would want us dead.”

  “Mr. Grimsrud, we both know you work for the NSA, monitoring communication traffic in Juarez and the surrounding areas. You’re one of the lead analysts. You’re also very good at what you do.”

  Dan tried not to react to the information, but his eyes betrayed him as they looked up and to the left. He decided there was no point in lying. “Why are you telling me all this?” he asked, keeping the tone of his voice even.

  “Because I’m the one he contracted to kill you,” stated Lazarus, as casually as if he had said, “I think it might rain tomorrow.”

  It was pure reflex, and Dan couldn’t stop himself. He opened the drawer in the table by the front door. He stopped dead in his tracks when the gun came completely up this time, aimed at his chest.

  Lazarus spoke calmly, “Please, Mr. Grimsrud, there is no need for that. I’ve explained that if it was my intention, you’d be dead already.” To make a point, Lazarus raised his left arm, Dan’s Glock in his hand.

  Dan’s expression was a mixture of rage and confusion when he saw his gun in the stranger’s hand. All he could say was, “Then why aren’t you going to kill me?”

  “It’s simple,” replied Lazarus. “I decided you don’t deserve to die this way. I spent the last six weeks researching your lives. I couldn’t find one significant negative thing about you that would merit your death. You were a hard-drinking brawler in your younger days, but those days are far behind you. Regardless, that’s a part of your past, irrelevant to the present.”

  Dan stood there trying to absorb it all. He was taken aback by both the frankness of the stranger and the intimate knowledge of his life. He watched once again as Lazarus lowered his weapon, adding weight and a sense of truth to his words.

  “There’s also the fact I know your son Derek.”

  Now Dan really was confused. Derek was a former Seal turned CIA agent, handling black ops out of El Paso. “Derek?” he asked.

  “Yes, although he is referred to as ‘Mr. Black’ by the CIA. Yes, I know he works for the CIA, based out of El Paso with a team of 6 to 8 combat proven veterans at his disposal.” Lazarus continued, “In spite of what I am and what I do, I won’t kill someone I find to be a good man, let alone your wife M.J. She is, by all accounts, one very special lady who delights in making other lives better. Then, there’s Derek, who I have a great amount of respect for.”

  Dan stared the stranger in the eyes while he listened. He saw nothing but the truth in them. Oddly enough, given the situation, he no longer felt threatened. Uncomfortable, pissed off and a bit confused, but not threatened.

  “So, what are you going to do about Torano’s contract?” Dan asked, stepping back and folding his arms across his chest.

  “As I see it, we have two options, well actually three.”

  “First, you can try and kill me. I assure you that will end tragically for you.” The off-handed way the stranger made the statement sent chills up Dan’s spine.

  “Second, you can step aside and let me walk out the door. I assure you, Torano will send someone else to finish the job.”

  “What’s the third option?” asked Dan.

  “You shake my hand. I’ll explain to Mr. Torano that you’re a friend of mine. I’ll advise him that when I took job, I was unaware you were the intended target. I’ll tell him I won’t be closing the contract. More than likely, Torano will tell me he’ll get someone else to take it. That’s when I’ll explain what will happen, should he choose to do so.

  “I’ll advise him that if anything happens to you or your wife, whether he is responsible or not, I will come for him. First, however, I’ll cut the heart out of everyone he cares about, and then I’ll come for him. By the time I’d be finished, he’d wish he’d never heard the name Dan Grimsrud.”

  Dan noticed as the stranger spoke, he showed no emotion. They weren’t threats. He would do what he said he would.

  “Make no mistake, Mr. Grimsrud. I can and will do all that if anything happens to you or your wife. I’ll kill Torano after tearing his family and cartel apart, piece by piece.”

  Dan pondered a moment before asking, “What do you want in return?”

  “I’d like an opportunity to become friends with Derek’s parents, in spite of who I am,” said Lazarus. “I have few friends, three to be exact, and a man needs friends in his life. As your friend, I would protect you and yours from the likes of Torano.”

  M.J. walked in the front door just as Lazarus finished. She looked at her husband, then at Lazarus, and reached into her purse.

  Dan spoke without hesitation, “M.J., please take your hand out of your purse and show both hands empty.” M.J. hesitated a moment, then spotted the gun in Lazarus’ hand slowly come up. She pulled her right hand out and put both in the air.

  Lazarus spoke softly, “My apologies, Dan, Mary Jo. I wish we were meeting under different circumstances, however that wasn’t possible.” He stood from the chair with the gun leveled in front of him, “I must be going. Tell me, Dan, which option will it be?”

  Dan turned and looked at his wife and then back at the stranger. “You expect me to trust you, just like that?” he asked.

  “No,” Lazarus replied, “I’m not asking you to trust me. I’m asking you to believe me. Trust is earned over the course of time. Belief comes in an instant.”

  Dan nodded at the logic. “Then for now, I’ll believe you.” He stepped forward, gently pushing Mary Jo’s hand off his shoulder, extending his hand.

  Much to Mary Jo’s surprise, and relief, the stranger slipped the gun under his jacket and took Dan’s hand. “Remember,” said Lazarus, as he took Dan’s hand in both of his. “I can and will do everything I told you. You’ll have confirmation you’re safe within 24 hours. You have my word.”

  Dan felt the strength in the man’s grip and saw the determination in his eyes. “What is your name, if I may ask?”

  “My apologies, but at this juncture it isn’t something I can share with you. However, feel free to call Derek and ask him about the one they call ‘The Chameleon’”.

  “The Chameleon?” repeated Dan. “That’s what they call you?”

  “Yes. It’s a nickname I was given by an elderly Chinese gentleman in 2003. It stuck.” Lazarus smiled at the memory of Tao’s death. “Now, if you’ll please excuse me, I really must be going. I have a call to make on your behalf.”

  Dan released Lazarus’ hand and stepped aside. Mary Jo quickly closed the distance to stand beside Dan; her face a mixture of confusion and fear.

  “One last detail, Mr. Grimsrud,” said Lazarus, as he reached into his shirt pocket, producing a folded piece of paper. “This is the name of the mole. For the record, he won’t be coming back to work. There was an accident in his home last night. Unfortunately, he didn’t survive the fall down the stairs.”

  Lazarus gave them a short bow, which struck both of them as odd, but seemed natural. He turned as he passed them, backing out the door and closing it behind him. Dan thought about calling the police, but only for a moment.

  He opened the paper and read the name. Dan sighed. It made sense. Miguel De Los Santos had always been a bit too curious about what he did. He was mad at himself for not catching it. The fact De Los Santos was dead, didn’t bother him. He was a traitor to his country; his death eliminated the leak to Los Zapatos. Dan folded the paper, putting it in his pocket.

  M.J. asked, “What was that all about Dan?”

  Dan thought about what to tell her. “Mary Jo, if he does what he said he’s going to do, he just saved our lives.”

  “Are you serious?” She asked.

  “Dead serious; I can’t tell you any more than that,” Dan replied.

  “I understand, but why did he tell you to call Derek?” she asked, concern in her voice.

  Dan responded, “Derek apparently knows him. He knew Derek is CIA, too. Maybe he can tell us something a
bout this guy.”

  M.J nodded.

  “He told me I’ll be hearing from him tomorrow. When that happens, I’ll answer your questions as best I can.”

  “I know you will,” she said, hugging him close.

  Together, they turned hand in hand, walking into the living room to call Derek; both still shaken from the experience. The conversation with Derek lasted the better part of an hour. He couldn’t tell them much about The Chameleon. Most was black ops related. Derek would never involve his parents in his job. He assured them he knew the Chameleon personally and trusted him.

  “I’ve known him about 5 years,” explained Derek. “I guarantee if he gives you his word, it’s as good as done. He has a personal code of honor and justice. I know the Chameleon has never killed an ‘Innocent’,” as Derek referred to them. “Mom, Dad, if Torano doesn’t back off, I promise that by the time the Chameleon is finished with him, he’ll wish he’d never heard the name Grimsrud.” It was almost word for word what the stranger had told Dan.

  Derek didn’t tell his parents everything. The reason he knew and trusted the Chameleon was because Lazarus saved his life in 2011. When it happened, Lazarus didn’t have any idea who Derek was, or that he was CIA. Lazarus was driving through Juarez when he spotted two trucks chasing a single gringo in a Jeep Wrangler. Normally he steered clear of cartel business, but he was looking for a fight. He’d missed his contracted target by 5 minutes in Monterrey. Some dumb ass ran out of gas in the middle of an intersection. It was back to the drawing board. Lazarus was just flat pissed.

  Lazarus got ahead of the Jeep and waited. After Derek shot through the intersection, Lazarus pulled his Expedition out behind him, blocking traffic. The trucks skidded to a stop, just short of hitting the SUV. One man jumped out cussing. He screamed at Lazarus to move while waving a pistol around. Lazarus responded with a hand-grenade and an AK-47. Fifteen seconds later all four were dead.

  If you were to have asked Lazarus, why he had interfered he probably would have shrugged. He told Derek after he learned the truth about Lazarus, “Honestly, Derek, I thought I was screwing up a random kidnapping. I was pissed. I had a bad day in Monterrey. I decided taking out a few low-level thugs would make me feel better. That’s why I killed them.” That was Lazarus for you. Sometimes he killed just because he decided someone deserved to die. With Derek, the icing on the cake was they were Los Zapatos.

  Derek assumed Lazarus had been sent to extract him. To him, Derek was just another American in Juarez, targeted by the Cartel for kidnapping. Lazarus followed Derek to his home in El Paso. Derek thanked him again and invited Lazarus in for a beer. Lazarus accepted. Derek called Langley with Lazarus in the room, to confirm the extraction. That’s when Lazarus learned Derek was CIA, and Derek learned Lazarus wasn’t. It didn’t matter to Derek. That was for certain. It was no small thing to an ex-Seal. Derek owed this man his life.

  From that mistaken assumption on Derek’s part, a friendship grew between the two men. He knew Lazarus as the Chameleon for three years before being learning his real name. Lazarus was putting his life in Derek’s hands. He couldn’t explain it and didn’t care. Lazarus had faith in his instincts above all else and Derek was a man he knew he could trust. As Lazarus told his father 5 years later, trust is earned over the course of time, and Derek had accomplished that.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Lazarus got into his Suburban, asking himself out loud leaving the Grimsrud house, “What the hell was I thinking, telling them to call Derek? I should have my head examined, and soon.” He started laughing at what he said, shaking his head. “It’s a tad late to put that little cat back in the bag. WAY too fucking late.” Lazarus could have easily given them one of his aliases or nothing at all. He couldn’t wrap his brain around it, but something about Grimsrud made him let down his guard. Dr. Helen would have suggested Lazarus saw Derek in his father. Now, either Dan would wait to hear from him, or he wouldn’t.

  Lazarus knew it was Dan’s decision. Regardless, he spared their lives and not just for Derek. It was far more complicated than that. The die was cast. He would live with the consequences. No matter what happened he wouldn’t regret his choice.

  He picked up his satellite phone and punched in a number from memory.

  “It’s me,” Lazarus said without preamble when the call was answered.

  “Si,” Ramon Torano replied.

  “I’ll make this simple. I’m canceling my contract on the husband and wife in Maryland.”

  Lazarus was greeted with dead silence for several moments. “That is unacceptable, Senor. You will fulfill the contract, or I will send someone else to deal with the hombre in Washington. Then I will send my men after you!” Torano’s voice rose consistently while he spoke, screaming into the phone.

  Lazarus responded quietly, an edge to his voice that caught Torano’s attention. “You’re forgetting something, Ramon. I know exactly who you are. I know where you live. I know the names and ages of your wife and your children. I know where they go to school. I know where you hide your money. I could drain every account within the hour. All I need to do is give the word. Then I’ll give the names of all your American associates to the FBI.”

  “On the other hand, you don’t know my name or even what I look like,” said Lazarus with a laugh. “You wouldn’t recognize me if we were sitting in the same restaurant. You think you can threaten me?

  “Let me explain, Ramon. The target is a personal friend of mine. That’s why I won’t finish the contract. Since he is my friend, you need to understand if anything happens to the hombre in D.C., as you call him, or anyone related to him, I will hold you personally responsible. I will dismantle your Cartel piece by piece, destroying it. Next, I’ll kill your family. I’ll cut out their hearts and have them delivered. Then when you are broke and your family is dead, I’ll come for you. If you doubt my commitment and willingness, try me.”

  Ramon was speechless. Through the entire monologue, the Chameleon spoke like he was listing groceries to pick up on the way home. There was no anger in the Chameleon’s voice, no threats, simply statements of fact. Ramon was a proud man, a dangerous man. However, he believed the Chameleon would do everything he said. Ramon decided there was nothing to gain by further antagonizing him. He wasn’t willing to test this killer over the life of one gringo, yet he needed to save face.

  Although Ramon was furious, he chose his words carefully. “Senior Chameleon, there’s no need for such threats against my family. They offend me, and I do not appreciate it. If this gringo is that important to you, I will do you this favor. I will spare his life and the lives of his family.” Ramon swallowed hard. That was anything BUT what he really wanted to say.

  Lazarus smiled, knowing Ramon was so pissed he was probably turning purple. Yet here he was, trying to be conciliatory. The ‘favor’ reference was Ramon’s way of saving face. He acted as though it was from of the kindness of his heart, when in fact he didn’t want to push his luck. Lazarus was under no illusions. Torano would want him dead for threatening his family. He knew he needed to make “peace” with the drug lord. It was time to manipulate Torano with his ego.

  “Thank you, amigo,” said Lazarus. “Your words mean much to me, and I’m honored you would do me such a favor.” He continued, “I’m in your debt for this kindness. I will be returning your investment, with interest. Will 25% will be sufficient, Hefe?” Lazarus used the Mexican term of respect he didn’t feel for Ramon, knowing the effect it would have on him.

  Ramon smiled, taking the bait. A favor owed him by the Chameleon was huge. The 25% he was making on the investment sweetened the pot. He replied knowing the Chameleon would refuse, “The original investment would be sufficient. The 25% is not necessary.”

  “Regardless,” answered Lazarus, “I insist on the interest fee. It would honor me and help heal this potential rift between us. We are business men. You spoke of my reputation. I won’t have you losing profit on money that could have been invested elsewhere.�
��

  Ramon smiled wider, “As you wish, Senor.”

  “El gusto es mío, Hefe, I have no desire for bad blood between us. I’d be honored if you would consider my services in the future.”

  “I’m certain another opportunity will arise, such is the way of our business is it not,” said Ramon.

  “Si, Hefe. Please accept my apologies for the comments I made about your family. They were spoken in the heat of the moment. You have my word. No harm will ever befall them at my hands.”

  “Your word is enough for me,” replied Torano, trying to figure out a way to kill this arrogant gringo. He would never forget, let alone forgive the threats.

  “Very well then, adios, amigo,” said Lazarus as he ended the call smiling to himself. Ramon actually believed the Chameleon owed him a favor. “Good luck collecting that one, you worthless piece of shit,” he said absently, pulling into McDonald’s for coffee and a burger.

  He was back on the road in 10 minutes and decided to call Grimsrud. He used one of his burner phones. Lazarus could toss it after the call if it didn’t go well. Dan looked at the number with a Maryland area code. He decided to answer it even though he didn’t recognize the number.

  “Good evening, Mr. Grimsrud,” greeted Lazarus. “Do you have a moment to speak?”

  Dan recognized the voice. “Yes, I do.”

  “Thank you. I wanted tell you, Dan, that you and your wife are no longer in danger, as far as Los Zapatos are concerned, of course.”

  Dan was taken by surprise. He put the phone on speaker. “I have the phone on speaker so M.J. can hear what you just said.”

  “That’s fine,” said Lazarus. “I called to tell Dan you are no longer in danger. Nothing will happen to you, at least not from Los Zapatos.”

  “How did you accomplish that so quickly?” asked M.J.

 

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