“Good luck, Dr. Hunt. Take care of your daughter. Family matters most,” he called out, and then slid behind the wheel and twisted the ignition, the biggest challenge now getting to the airport from the rural road before all hell broke loose.
Chapter 44
San Miguel de Allende, Guanajuato, Mexico
Don Aranas reclined on his plush leather sofa, the wood frame ornately carved by regional artisans famous for their skill, and took a generous measure of steaming coffee. Getting clear of DF had been simple, a matter of a charter flight under an assumed name. For all the government’s sound and fury, like all bureaucracies, it was inept at the things that mattered – which he’d proved countless times in his criminal career. There had been roadblocks in place, of course, but a few pesos to the right security men and his flight had been cleared for takeoff with no fuss.
His new cell phone warbled from the table beside the couch.
“Yes?” he answered.
“I’m glad to see everything appears to be going according to plan,” an American voice said in accented Spanish.
“It’s always nice when hard work pays off.” Aranas paused. “I trust you’ve had a chance to discuss my proposal with your masters?”
“I did, and they agreed, at least in principle. But they weren’t happy with the reduced cut.”
“It’s not a reduced cut, and you know it. It’s the same as it’s been for the last four years. Which has worked well for everyone.”
“It’s a reduction from what was negotiated with Agundez.”
“Who had no authority to make the commitment. And for which he paid with his life.”
“Well, the deed is done, so you got what you were after.”
“It seems extraordinary to me that it was such a struggle. All I want is what’s fair for the job I do.”
The American switched topics. “Do you think the president will pay off or try another gambit?”
Aranas took another swig of his coffee and set the cup down carefully on the saucer before answering. “I don’t suppose it much matters, does it?”
“Well, a billion is a nice payday.”
“Achieving your objective is a nicer one. I can’t help but believe there will be promotions on your end for engineering this.”
“I live in hope. What do you think went wrong at the museum?”
“Oh, without question they tried to disarm it. And then they didn’t have the balls to admit it. But I let them out gracefully…for a small surcharge.”
“Do you plan to detonate the others?”
Aranas was a reasonable man. “Not if they comply. I still have to do business here, so there’s no reason to agitate things further. Even in your new environment of increased international cooperation.”
“Terrorism is a global threat. They’re everywhere,” the American said, and Aranas barked a laugh.
“Of course they are. I think I saw one out by the woodpile earlier. Sneaky bastards.”
It was the American’s turn to laugh.
“Just let us know if you plan to blow them.”
“Will do. I don’t think it will be necessary, but I’ve learned to never underestimate the stupidity of civil servants or politicians. No offense.”
“None taken.”
Aranas hung up, satisfied with another successful negotiation concluded with his longtime partners in the U.S. –the largest market on the planet for illegal drugs. Without their cooperation, trafficking into the country would have been far more difficult, and they were worth the percentage of profits he paid; but only to a point. This current round of talks had ended as favorably as he’d hoped, with everyone getting what they wanted: his cartel maintained its margins, and the Americans got to increase their reach.
It was a good bargain, with a billion and a half bonus at the end of the rainbow for him – a worthwhile expenditure of effort.
Perhaps most importantly, it had given him the chance to get even with the president for his betrayal, and remind him where the real power rested. The silly peacock strutted around like a pint-sized statesman, but it didn’t serve Aranas’s purposes to allow him to believe he actually ran things. The president’s double cross, which Aranas had used to put his current scheme into motion, had been unforgivable, and balance needed to be restored.
Now that the administration understood the true order of things, Aranas expected matters to settle down and to be able to conduct business in the usual fashion: he paid off politicians at the mayoral and governor level, owned most of the senate, and would mobilize his massive wealth to determine which candidate got to be the next president, as he had for the current worm. It was only when the servants forgot their place that he set them straight. The rest of the time he had no interest in what they did, as long as they followed his direction and used the military and law enforcement to gut his rivals. Let them loot the country – they’d been doing it since before Aranas was born, and he had little doubt that the larceny would continue long past his expiration.
It was the way of the world. How anyone in the neighborhood to the north believed that any candidate who could raise the billion dollars it took to get elected wasn’t wholly owned by the special interests that funded the campaign baffled him. In Mexico it was understood that gaining public office was a license to steal.
He shook his head at the wonder of it all and finished his tepid coffee.
“Maria! Mas café, por favor,” he called, and debated whether it was too early for his first cigar of the day. He opted for discipline, but patted his breast pocket, where the four he allowed himself each day fit snugly.
A woman in a white smock and loose trousers hurried in with a coffee pot. “Here you are, Don Aranas.”
“Only half a cup. Oh, and I’ll be having our favorite guest over for lunch. Please make his usual. You know how he values consistency – I fear this latest adventure has been a bit much for him, but a good meal should go a long way to calming his nerves.”
Maria nodded. She knew exactly what to make. And as always, plenty of it.
Because for all his social ineptness, El Maquino enjoyed his food.
Chapter 45
Mexico City, Mexico
Carla looked up from her tea to find El Rey standing in the doorway of her dining room, watching her as she responded to early morning messages on her cell phone. She gasped in surprise as he moved toward her, covering the space between them in a few long strides. She rose and he took her in his arms, holding her close as she battled conflicting impulses. After several moments she looked up at him.
“Did you get what you needed?” she asked.
He nodded and lowered his lips to hers. She tilted her head back and they shared a long kiss, and then she pulled away and slapped him as hard as she could.
“You miserable bastard. You promised me, and you lied.”
He raised his fingers to his reddening face and nodded. “I couldn’t allow your stubbornness to interfere with my survival chances. I’m sorry.”
“And what about your commitment to me?”
“You would have slowed me down, Carla. I didn’t want to risk my life in order to make you happy – because those were the stakes. I did what I had to do in order to be successful.” He paused. “I hope you can forgive me.”
“I’ve been up since you left with worry,” she countered, the hurt coloring her tone. “You have no idea how affected I was when you didn’t show up. I got you the visa, everything, and you didn’t even bother to call.”
“I was busy. I had to interrogate several scientists, break into a top-secret lab, that kind of thing. I didn’t see where having a long argument over the phone would help my focus.” He paused. “All I can say is I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry you did it, or you’re sorry about the effect lying to me had?”
“The latter. I was able to get the antidote, so whether or not you agree with me, going it alone was the right call.”
He allowed that to sink in. While he knew he c
ould have handled the situation differently, his methodology had been successful. He didn’t bother to tell her about the kidnappings or the near miss in the lab or the violence he’d used to achieve his objective. Keeping her out of that was part of the reason he’d misled her. What she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her, and seeing his operational side wasn’t something that would do either one of them any good.
She sat and stared at her tea. “I took the job in Spain. I leave in four days.”
He nodded, unsurprised. “That’s great news for you, Carla. It’s the right thing for your career.”
“Don’t try to butter me up. I’m furious with you.”
His lips twitched with the hint of a smile. “I couldn’t tell.”
Carla couldn’t help herself, hating the grin that leapt unbidden to her face. She looked away, but not before he’d caught it. “I am glad you’re not dead,” she conceded.
“So am I.”
He took a seat across from her and they sat in uncomfortable silence until she finally spoke. “Are you going to tell me about it?”
He did, leaving out the worst. When he finished, she shook her head. “Then it’s finally over?”
He nodded. “I hope so. I got an extra dose, just in case. Apparently there are a few types who require seven shots instead of six.”
“How do you feel? Any more symptoms?”
“No. I’m tired, but that’s from lack of sleep, not anything else.”
“Do you want to try to grab a little here?”
“If you’ll have me.”
She appeared thoughtful. “You’re really going to have to make this up to me.”
“I plan to. You name it, I’ll do it.”
“That’s the way to a woman’s heart. Be careful what you promise.”
This time he smiled broadly. “Be careful what you wish for.”
He trudged up the stairs to her bedroom and was kicking off his shoes when his cell rang. Nobody had that number…except one man. El Rey freed it from his pocket and glared at the screen before answering.
“Hello.”
“I presume our little subterfuge worked?” Cruz opened with.
“Yes. Thanks.” El Rey frowned. “Is that why you’re calling?”
“Not entirely, although I’m overjoyed that your time was well spent.”
“What do you need?”
“So suspicious.”
“I know you, Capitan.”
“Yes, I suppose you do. Just to remind you, I put my neck on the line for you. Now I need some help.”
“With?”
“Nothing for your considerable skills. I just need to track down Don Aranas and figure out how to disarm a pair of bombs he’s using to blackmail the government.”
El Rey laughed. “Are you serious? That’s Aranas? The news is all about terrorists.”
“That was a cover story. I was brought into the loop by the president early this morning. I’m risking charges of treason telling you this.”
“Then why are you doing so?”
“Because you’re the only one I know who could find him in time.”
“I’m afraid you’re overestimating my abilities.” The assassin hesitated. “What’s ‘in time,’ anyway?”
“By tonight.”
“You must be joking.”
“I wish I was.”
“It’s impossible.”
“I wouldn’t jump to conclusions. We think we’ve located the bomb maker’s facility.”
“Then arrest him.”
“It’s not that easy. He blew it up. It’s in pieces all over a Mexico City street.”
“Then how do you know it was him?”
Cruz recounted his ordeal with the drones. El Rey listened wordlessly. When he was done, the assassin grunted. “That proves nothing.”
“Perhaps not. But the downed drone was equipped with C-4. I don’t suppose I need to tell you how hard it is to get your hands on C-4.”
“It can be done.”
“There was also C-4 found in the ruins of the building that exploded.” Cruz let that register. “That’s an awful lot of coincidences on a day where there are two C-4 equipped bombs deployed in the city, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Fine. But how does that help?”
“We’re running the traffic camera footage as we speak. It appears a van was used as a getaway vehicle. We tracked it to a house on the edge of town. A car left shortly after the van arrived. We followed it to a rural airfield near Puebla. Briones contacted the tower for a flight plan – a prop job took off ten minutes after the car arrived.”
“Sounds like you already know more than enough.”
“This is where it gets dicey. Aranas read the president the riot act. Said that if anyone shows up anywhere near him, he’ll detonate the bombs.”
“An effective preemptive measure, you have to admit.”
“Yes, and that’s where you come in. I need you to help us…under the radar.”
“How?”
“Travel to where the plane landed and see if you can find either Aranas or the bomb maker.”
“Why not add walk on water while you’re at it?” El Rey sighed. “I haven’t gotten more than three hours of sleep in the last three days, Capitan. I’m not up to this.”
“I wouldn’t ask you if I had any other options. You’re the best. If anyone can pull this off, it’s you.” Cruz lowered his voice. “I did you a solid. I need you to do one in return.”
“I was calling in my favor, so we’re even. Besides, that’s considerably more than switching some photos and backing my story.”
The line hummed faintly as Cruz considered his response. “I have no choice.”
“Why should I help you? Risk my life – for what?”
“If he detonates the bombs, thousands of people will die.”
“Then don’t screw him. Problem solved.”
“We can’t be sure he still won’t,” Cruz said. “There are women, children, and pensioners in those buildings.”
El Rey didn’t speak for a long moment.
“If I do this, we’re through, correct? No more reaching out for just one more thing, is that clear?”
“Crystal.”
“Nobody can know of my involvement. I’m officially dead, even to CISEN. I do this as my parting gift, I walk off the edge of the earth, and we’re even. Deal?”
Another long pause. “Deal.”
Chapter 46
San Miguel de Allende, Guanajuato, Mexico
The colonial charm of San Miguel’s quaint streets, lined as they were with touristy kitsch and façades painted every color of the rainbow, was undeniable, and El Rey admired the view through his distraction as he walked toward the towering spires of the hill town’s famous cathedral. He had a meeting set up with one of the local Federal Police informants at a café on the square, who had been told that he was a logistics specialist from Mexico City. The man, Ignacio Lorna, was a small-time loan shark who augmented his income by snitching on his competitors to the police, and the assassin knew his type well enough to understand that he’d be just as likely to sell them out as provide them information.
The trip on a private puddle jumper had been arranged by Cruz in the time it took for El Rey to get to the airport, and the 140-mile flight had taken less than an hour. Cruz had arranged for a car to be waiting, and El Rey had received the keys from a man who’d been standing on the tarmac when he’d arrived. The man had directed him to the car, a battered Nissan Altima that looked on its last legs, before he’d continued to a pickup truck parked in the shade afforded by a tree’s spreading branches and driven away without looking back.
El Rey parked the Nissan several blocks from his rendezvous and was making the rest of the journey on foot – the less the informant knew about him, the better. Cruz had agreed with him and told him that he had carte blanche with how he handled the operation. As far as the world was concerned, the assassin didn’t exist, and he was therefore deniable. Short of blowing
up the entire town, whatever he deemed appropriate was fine – with the clock ticking as the government scrambled to meet the ransom demand, expedience was the order of the day.
Normally the assassin would have allowed more time so that he could reconnoiter the meeting area beforehand and verify he wasn’t walking into a trap, but due to the urgency, he was risking going in cold, a practice he detested, but there was no viable alternative.
The café’s sidewalk tables were mostly empty due to an earlier cloudburst. El Rey pushed past the vacant seats and into the interior, where a man in a green soccer jersey sat at a table in the back, nursing something with foam on top. El Rey sat beside him and, when the waitress came over, ordered a cup of decaf. Once she’d gone to the kitchen to get his drink, he turned to the man.
“Olivero?” he asked.
“The one and only. Arturo, I presume,” Olivero said, using the alias he’d been provided.
El Rey nodded. “You mentioned to a mutual friend that you might have something for me?”
“Yes. There’s a ranch outside of town, maybe fifteen minutes, that’s been empty for months. Yesterday a group showed up and ordered the propane tank topped off, bought enough food to feed an army, and had a water truck deliver a pipe full.”
“Hardly suspicious,” El Rey countered.
“They said you wanted anything that raised eyebrows. That did. Then today, a plumber went out to work on the cistern and said that there were guards posted on the grounds.”
The waitress arrived and set the assassin’s coffee in front of him. El Rey offered her a smile, which she returned with a flash of mahogany eyes and white teeth. He took a swallow and set the cup down to cool.
“Many high-net-worth people have bodyguards,” he observed.
“These guys look hard. That’s how the plumber described them – and he was in the army.”
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