Silver Lead and Dead (Evan Hernandez series Book 1)

by James Garmisch

  “Nice to meet you too, Carletta. I am not quite clear why Eduardo didn’t make it. This is a little odd. Should I call the secretary to the president?”

  “No. No, Nathan. Eduardo met with an unfortunate accident.” She frowned.

  “What?”

  Nathan and Reo looked at each other. Nathan held up his hand to calm down his shooters, who were beginning to close ranks. “What kind of accident?”

  “Nathan, we are pulling the plug on Dark Cloud.”

  Mario Jr., his two bodyguards, and two politicians whom Jorge knew quite well entered the room quietly. Jorge smiled broadly and waved toward the comfortable chairs, which were pulled halfway out, just so, for his guests. Jorge knew things about the two politicians that Mario Jr. did not know. For instance, they were on board with his designs to destroy Mario’s empire and blame it on the cause of a major political assassination.

  “Sit, sit, my friends. Mario, how is your father?” Jorge paused.

  Mario Jr. was not smiling. He was clearly annoyed at something and puffed up as if he had some sort of agenda to present. “Where the hell is the booze?” he grumbled.

  “Here. Are you OK?” Jorge moved to reach for a glass but was shoved out of the way.

  “I’ll get it my damn self!”

  “That is one,” Jorge said quietly to himself. He smiled on the outside, yet began to boil within.

  Mario Jr. was in one of his moods, which meant that the evening was going to be long and unpredictable. Jorge sat down once everyone was settled and then decided he too would get a drink. He poured a small glass of mescal and settled down at the head of the table. Mario Jr.’s two bodyguards stood near the door, and Gerard placed himself near them. Gerard, like Jorge, had a deep distrust for anyone else with guns—even if they were on the same team.

  “Mescal Disgusting, tastes like urine.” Mario Jr. paced around the room like a mad cat.

  “You know, my friend, that my family has been making this brand for generations. I take that as a bit of an offense. It is an acquired—” Jorge began.

  “Oh, sorry, did I hurt your fucking feelings?”

  Jorge smiled and folded his arms as he spoke diplomatically, “Shall we get down to business?”

  “There is no business. We are not buying the sub, and I am on to you and your friends. How about that for business?”

  Jorge stopped smiling, took a drink, and placed his glass down quietly.

  Gerard put a toothpick in his mouth and slid the tips of his fingers into the waistband of his jeans.

  For a second, Jorge and Gerard locked eyes. True warriors never had to speak.

  All was settled.

  Nathan could not speak for a full minute. He watched the pigeons and tourists sputter around aimlessly going to-and-fro. He checked to make sure his phone was on Vibrate and then placed his sunglasses firmly over his eyes.

  “You are serious?”

  “The political winds are changing, Nathan.”

  “To whose favor?” He chuckled.

  “That is to be determined,” she said.

  “You are getting scared,” he stated flatly to Carletta.

  She refused to get on the defensive and smiled, like a warm grandmother who had just busted a child for stealing cookies. “Some are.”

  “Explain.” Nathan felt his blood heat up and his heart begin to pound. For an instant, she reminded him of the type of bureaucrat that used to just make decisions without knowing any of the details; or was she just a puppet?

  “I will, Mr. Rock, but—”

  “Where is the secretary to the president? That’s who I want explaining this whole thing to me. You see, this is not my first rodeo, as we say, and this is the first time you and I have met.”

  She frowned.

  Nathan watched his bodyguards watch her bodyguards.

  Reo was texting someone and then abruptly stopped. Reo never stopped texting. He looked up at her and spoke. “You are jamming our signal. I know who you are. You work for the CNI. We have met before in a social setting.”

  “Gentlemen, look, we approve of what you are doing. It is just that things behind the scenes are changing. People are getting nervous.”

  “And greedy?” chimed in Reo.

  She smiled and said nothing.

  “Talk. Can I get you a drink, some coffee?” Nathan asked, trying to improve the deteriorating situation.

  “No. My time is short, so allow me to get to the point,” she said.

  “Certainly.” Nathan had changed his demeanor now and was smiling on the outside, yet boiling on the inside.

  Carletta settled into a smug yet sweet tone and began speaking. “It took us a while to figure it out, but you are quite brilliant. While your soldiers were building up little vigilante cells and intelligence networks around Mexico, they were also establishing the where abouts of Mario’s cash warehouses. You built a trusted human-intelligence network in places my agents won’t even go! Now, on to business. In the last six months, Dark Cloud has cost our conglomerate of private backers and government officials a substantial sum of money. We have seen a few arrests here and there, the discovery of a kidnapping ring of gringo whores being sent to the Middle East, and the release of Andre Pena, the notorious bomb maker, from prison and his arrival into Mexico. We have invested millions in what? We have flown you and your warriors around Mexico and helped you purchase a base to train, and yet what have we seen?”

  She paused and looked exasperated. “Mr. Rock, now you want to buy a submarine? An elaborate trap to kill Mario and his sons? This is madness. We let you go with it for a while, yet now it is just out of hand.”

  Nathan ignored her and interjected a quick question. He locked eyes with her. “You are giving me economics. More importantly, have you told anyone about the warehouses?”

  “No.”

  “You mentioned politics?” Nathan probed.

  She nodded and conceded his point. “Yes. Our biggest backer, whom I cannot name, is withdrawing. He is standing to make billions in a deal with the norteamericano political class, some type of telecom deal that I cannot get into.”

  “Go on,” Nathan said. He was trying to keep his voice low but was losing.

  “He cannot be connected with us any longer. The press coverage of our war and the fallout and destabilization of the balance when Mario dies? It cannot be predicted and may make us—”

  Nathan interjected, “No, allow me. You’re getting pressure from the norteamericanos to hush up your drug war because it may hurt the political classes. This is your country! I have seen what these morons do to other countries.”

  No one spoke for a full minute.

  Carletta spoke first.

  “We have no more cash. You have cost us a few million already, and many of our members are withdrawing and getting cold feet.” Carletta shook her head slowly with sympathy and blew smoke from her nostrils. “The house of cards is collapsing, Nathan.”

  Nathan looked at Reo, who looked at the table. She continued trying to sound like the rational one.

  “Now, you want us to pay off two hundred million for a submarine? Something that will certainly attract huge attention from the United States when it gets caught? Can’t afford the cost or the embarrassment.”

  Nathan leaned back in his chair and spoke. “So there it is. So you go back to prearranged drug busts—cartel leaders selling off their rivals so you can parade them in front of cameras.” Nathan shook his head.

  Carletta was not smiling anymore and stood up abruptly. “I think our conversation is over, Nathan Rock. Go see the sights up here, learn some history about old empires.” She waved her hands around at the castle, smiled, and gathered her purse.

  Nathan panicked and for the first time in his life threw all his cards on the table in desperation. “What if I tell you I can kill Mario and his sons and bring down his whole organization in about three days? You can replace him with whomever you like—that’s your business. We pay for it all ourselves, and I make
you rich!”

  The grandma smirk went away, and Carletta now just looked like a greedy bitch. “You bluff.”

  Nathan laid it all out on the table for her, hoping something would stick. He knew he could find her angle. She was, after all, a government employee.

  “My men are about to get Mario, who you people could not find for the last ten years. I have a team on the inside that has hacked into his computer systems, infiltrated, and gained access to every electronic form of payment that Mario owns.” Nathan stood up to face her.

  “You lie,” she said.

  “Bullshit, lady. This is my world. I have access to all of the pouges…maybe even you, that are on his payroll. I can steal him blind, billions; empty his Swiss accounts; expose and embarrass. I also know where his warehouses are! You need a fleet of C-130s to haul the cash away. That’s my ace in the hole! Now, you can watch the Mexican government burn it in a huge bonfire and giggle in front of the cameras, or you can stuff your pockets!”

  Carletta’s eyes got wide. “You were saving this gem, this information, for what—blackmail?”

  “Insurance!”

  “Insurance? You are shrewd, Nathan.”

  Nathan cracked his knuckles and sat back down. “Have a seat, Carletta.”

  She sat and looked at him sideways in disbelief.

  “I want information and any resource I need up front,” Nathan said. “Dark Cloud is still a go. The Mexican navy is still a go!”

  “My cut?” she asked bluntly.

  Nathan reached out and gently squeezed her hand. “My dear, what’s a few billion between friends? Now let me tell you about empires!”

  CHAPTER 19

  Hunger Pangs

  Veracruz, Mexico, 2100 Hours

  Evan felt grim, worried, and a little annoyed all at the same time. He was hungry but did not want to eat, tired but could not sleep. Something puzzled him, but he could not place his finger on it. He thought about his dog, the snow, his brother, and what his brother would say if he knew what Evan was up to.

  He thinks I am on vacation, or does he really know better?

  Evan thought about the money that Nathan was going to deposit into his bank—the freedom it provided and the chance to start over off the grid in another country. He thought about conspiracy theories, Nathan, and Andre Pena. Why did his wife have to die, and why, after all these years, was he thinking about it again?

  Evan suddenly wanted to flee, to just get out of Mexico and disappear. Truth was, he had no home to go to. He had a dog and no money. He could not even legally drive.

  “Evan, what the hell are you doin’ in there, lad? You ain’t got no hair to wash!”

  Evan was back in reality. He stood in the shower in a rented six-bedroom house that sat on a waterway near Veracruz. The house came complete with a three-car garage, a pier, and a small, screened-in indoor swimming pool. He was also sure that they were not the only residents in the neighborhood living in a house with no furniture.

  “Sorry, just thinking!” Evan yelled over the running water.

  “It ain’t good for you!”

  Evan dried off, got dressed, and left the bathroom. It was dark outside and a little chilly, and the house felt cold as well with no furniture. Drapes covered the many windows, and the only light Evan could see was from the buoys and other houses on the causeway.

  “OK, can we start with a once-over now that the princess is out of the shower?” Roger grumbled.

  Evan sat down Indian-style on the hardwood floor. Some sat, and some leaned. Evan realized that part of Green Team Two had joined his team, bringing the crew to about forty people. Equipment in the form of computers and Pelican cases with weapons were piled in the living room. Among the new arrivals, Evan recognized the cute, short Mexican woman with a sweet yet feisty attitude. She seemed to be quite fond of Roger. He recognized some of the drivers and surveillance types whom he had met at the ranch. All in all, Dark Cloud was vastly outnumbered by the various cartel armies and corrupt police who populated the landscape.

  Roger clapped his hands. He stood near a dry-erase board. “Listen up. We’re going over it one more time, lads. Sorry, but we got some slow folks and new arrivals, so let’s get it straight. Yes, we are all tired, and we’ll eat in a bit.”

  “I am only here for the food,” Evan added.

  No one laughed for once.

  “OK, Evan, you and Mia and Tommy, of course, are to meet the boys who will take you aboard the Happy Mermaid here, where they suggested.” Roger pointed to a map of Veracruz that was taped to the wall.

  They were meeting near a hotel in the northern part of the city, right across the street from a marina with a long pier. The Happy Mermaid would most likely be anchored out in the channel.

  “You guys will be escorted out to the yacht. Anything happens, and you’re on your own.”

  “Great,” Evan said with mock enthusiasm.

  “You guys know what to do. Mia, be discreet with planting electronics. I am not sure if they sweep for bugs. We got a team in a room in this hotel here. It should be high enough to pick up your communications till you go inside.”

  A stocky Mexican with a full beard and wearing an Everlast hoodie spoke. He only wore gym clothes. His name was Joaquin, and he was a fierce warrior and devout Catholic whose grand parents had fought in the Cristero conflict. He had a quiet, calm voice. “My guys are there right now and can confirm that the yacht is anchored. They have a Zodiac boat that has come ashore twice and returned to off-load people. One of the individuals it off-loaded, named Sebastian, looked like a member of the computer team. No sight of Tanya!”

  “Sure?” Mia asked. “She was supposed to come ashore and give us an information drop.”

  “Looks like no one else is leaving the ship. Another puzzling thing too is that there is no helicopter. We have good intel that the helicopter left this afternoon to go to the ship, yet it never came back and is clearly not there. Must have whisked off somewhere else,” the man with the hoodie explained.

  “OK, let’s move on,” said Roger.

  “Evan and his team make their deal, plant their bugs, and hopefully identify ships armament. If we catch up with Tanya, great; if not, we will go from there. I want a team following Sebastian.”

  Roger looked around the room. “If all goes according to plan, which it never does, we will have an arrangement for the sub hand-off and a purchase. We have to get Tanya or someone from her team to confirm that the computer virus is active. Regardless, Mario and his sons go up in a ball of flames in a few days. If Tanya was successful, then we all get a major bonus when Nathan divvies up Mario’s wealth, like he promised.”

  Evan smirked and raised his hand. “Can I add something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Keep your finger straight and off the trigger until you are ready to fire, and don’t aim at anything you don’t intend to shoot. Kill them all. That’s all. Call me when the pizza gets here!” Evan got up, packed a dip, grabbed a magazine from one of the team members who was in the middle of reading it, went back into the bathroom, and locked the door.

  No one said a word.

  CHAPTER 20

  Sebastian was terrified.

  He had dealt with computer hackers and identity thieves all over the world. For years, he had lived in half a dozen different countries off refund checks from the US IRS for people who did not even exist or who were dead. Sebastian had never even set foot in the States but had wanted to. He had met Tanya in a café in Rio and had signed on with her team and then eventually Dark Cloud. Nothing had prepared him for Mexican drug cartels. He had heard stories of their rituals to the drug-smuggling saints and sacrifices to cults. He’d heard of them raping migrants from El Salvador by the hundreds, burning people alive, melting people in acid, chopping heads off and putting it on YouTube, and even kidnapping school buses full of children in order to sell their organs.

  Sebastian did not have even one tattoo nor did he like to drink. He was not a fighter or
brash. Now here he was surrounded by four large, by Mexican standards, men who could kill him with their bare hands. He tried not to shake or talk or be so obviously scared. Tanya had given him a micro SD card that held about one gig of data. It was carefully wrapped in plastic and hidden in his tube of Chap Stick.

  “If you can make a call, stash this and tell them where it is. Do not get caught. If you do get caught, drink this. It will kill you quickly and painlessly. Being raped and tortured could take hours; this will be seconds.”

  Sebastian could not stop thinking about the small vial of allergy medicine that was actually poison or the Chap Stick that had enough condemning data on it to collapse Mario’s organization and drain him of close to a billion dollars.

  Sebastian clutched two plastic bags full of clothes and necessities from Walmart. It was nine fifteen at night, and he was waiting in a crowded Mexican restaurant by the seawall and marina. The four men who were with him were decorated with tattoos that were all very different yet told the same morbid stories of death, rape, submission, and dominance.

  “Fat Man!”said one of the gangsters who had identified himself only as the Turtle. “You going to get drunk before we go back. Loosen up, white boy!”

  The Turtle was short and wore a sleeveless T-shirt that said, “Your university sucks” on it in English. He had a full set of gold-and-diamond-studded teeth.

  “I…I don’t drink, but you pick.” Sebastian regretted his comment as soon as he said it.

  “Don’t drink? Don’t drink? What are you, gay?” The Turtle got real close to Sebastian. His eyes were glazed, and his breath stank. “You scared?”

  Sebastian sat at the small table in the crowded restaurant and clutched his bags. “Yes.”

  “Hey, Paco, Monkey, the white boy is scared! Bring a bottle of tequila. I knew we should have brought that little tight-ass girl instead, huh?”

  “Frenchman saving her for himself!” One of the gangsters laughed.