Protector

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Protector Page 24

by Diana Palmer


  “You can’t mean him,” Rodrigo exclaimed.

  “Yes, I can.” Jon was grim. “We know about his connections to the drug trade, we know he uses bribes and threats to get what he wants out of other legislators. Imagine that talent catapulted to the highest levels of government.”

  “We still have a free press,” Hayes commented.

  “Reporters have families. So do the CEOs of the corporations that run the news media,” Jon said. “Do you really think that people who massacre journalists across the border would hesitate to do it here?”

  “I had hoped so,” Hayes said. “But I guess that’s not realistic.”

  “So what do we do?” Ramirez asked.

  “We wait,” Jon said grimly. “We keep our eyes open, we look for connections we can prove. And we hope that we can find that computer that Eb Scott’s tech was killed trying to probe.”

  Lassiter hadn’t spoken. He was standing a little apart from the others with his hands in his pockets. “What about the sniper that El Ladrón was sending after you?” he asked Hayes.

  “The one who was actually working for my new father-in-law?” Hayes chuckled. “He went back home.”

  “Pity,” Lassiter said. “We might have used him.”

  “For what, bait?” Ramirez asked.

  Jon shook his head. “Some members of the drug cartels are stupid. Very stupid. But the man who’s running the territory now, the little mayor of Cotillo, has a brain. He also has one of the most intense intelligence networks we’ve ever come across. I’m surprised he didn’t die in the grenade attack.”

  “He was entertaining us at the time,” Garon Grier interjected, nodding toward Ramirez. “We left just in time to avoid the explosion.”

  “Yes, well, it turns out that one of our local mercs had some extra hand grenades that he used to practice on the armor-plated vehicles with,” Ramirez said with a hint of humor. “He was also visiting the mayor at the time. It’s only a trick of luck that Charro Mendez wasn’t there to meet the convoy. If he had been...” He let his voice trail off.

  “That man, Carson,” Hayes said. “He’s quite something.”

  Ramirez lifted an eyebrow. “He has a serious attitude problem.”

  “Could be, but Minette and I owe him our lives,” he pointed out.

  “I suppose so.” He frowned. “Didn’t he feed somebody to a crocodile overseas?”

  Grier chuckled. “He takes credit for it, but I have it on good authority that Rourke was the instigator. Carson helped.”

  “Who did he feed to the crocodile?” Hayes asked.

  Grier’s face became hard. “A man who tortured a wealthy young journalist who was covering the attack on Barrera. Apparently she and Rourke go way back.”

  “And who’s Rourke?” Jon Blackhawk asked. “The name is familiar, but I can’t place it.”

  “He works for Eb Scott occasionally, but he mostly does jobs for K.C. Kantor. The man is rumored to be his father, but nobody knows the truth.”

  “Kantor.” Grier shook his head. “There’s an interesting man. He started out as a merc, bought stock in some company and became a millionaire in a few years. Now he’s based in South Africa, and if there’s any sort of revolution going on, you can bet he’ll be backing the rebels against the corrupt governments.”

  “An interesting man,” Hayes commented.

  “How’s the therapy coming?” Ramirez asked.

  Hayes sighed. “It’s going to be a long haul,” he said. “The kidnapping did some damage, but eventually I’ll regain most of the use of my arm. Sadly it’s going to be a longer time before I can shoulder a shotgun. So I guess Zack is going to be on the firing line in any gun situations from now on.” He looked depressed.

  “Neither of us can go busting down doors with guns blazing, either,” Garon pointed out, nodding toward Ramirez. “We have wives and families and we confine ourselves largely to administration now. Fieldwork is best suited to young men.”

  “I’m young,” Ramirez taunted. “I can press a teddy bear!”

  Grier burst out laughing. “Yeah. Me, too.”

  “I wouldn’t mind having more kids than Julie and Shane,” Hayes said dreamily. “Children are terrific.”

  “That’s right, Minette has two little siblings,” Grier noted. “You didn’t mind?”

  Hayes shook his head. “They sat in bed with me and we watched movies together, and they said they’d protect me from bad men.” He still almost got choked up when he recalled that. “They’re great. Both of them.”

  “Well, by the time your own come along, you’ll be experienced,” Ramirez chuckled.

  Hayes grinned. “That I will.” The smile faded. “Pity that Charro Mendez didn’t go out to meet his cousin when the grenades went up.”

  Garon frowned. “You think he knew it was coming?”

  “Someone said he had visitors, just before the grenades went off,” Ramirez recalled.

  “Yes,” Garon replied. “A tall man with long black hair down to his waist, an informer told us. And reportedly an employee of El Jefe.”

  Hayes chuckled. “Carson.”

  “Exactly,” Grier said. “He’s quite efficient.”

  “Deadly,” Hayes agreed. “And he carries an illegal weapon that he says your brother—” he nodded toward Garon Grier “—gave him a permit to carry.”

  “My brother was a sniper,” Grier pointed out.

  “What does that mean?” Hayes asked.

  “Just that men who share deadly occupations form friendships.”

  “Oh, good Lord, Carson was a sniper?” Hayes burst out.

  “A very good one, according to my brother. But he’s doing jobs for Eb Scott and Cy Parks these days.”

  “Cy Parks quit the business,” Hayes recalled.

  Grier leaned forward. “And pigs fly. Just because he doesn’t participate in commando raids doesn’t mean he doesn’t help organize them. He’s got about three ex-mercs on his payroll. He has enemies, too.”

  “If they know about Carson, I don’t imagine they’ll bother Parks,” Ramirez said. “And before you forget, I was one of those mercs before I joined the DEA. I’m still a wanted man in several countries overseas. Though, fortunately, not in this one.”

  “Truly,” Grier agreed.

  Jon Blackhawk sighed. “Well, I suppose Charro Mendez just inherited El Ladrón’s crown.”

  “Inherited it, yes. Now let him try to keep it,” Ramirez said somberly. “Your wife’s father will be on his toes now and looking for a way to put Mendez out of business,” he told Hayes. “There’s another issue, as well. We still have a high-level mole in my organization. I don’t dare talk to anyone except Cobb about that. We can’t afford to advertise the fact that we even know he exists. With that computer missing, and the data most likely destroyed, he thinks he’s safe.”

  “That gives you the edge,” Hayes told him. “He’s much more likely to give himself away if he does think he’s safe.”

  “It’s a big agency,” Ramirez said heavily. “Very big. And I can’t remember the agent who came with me to your drug bust. So that leaves us with nothing.”

  Hayes was thinking. “Did you stop anywhere on the way down here that day?”

  Ramirez thought for a minute. “Not on the way, no.” He hesitated. “We did stop at the police station. I wanted to talk to Cash Grier. But he was out.”

  “Did the agent go inside with you?”

  “I believe he did.” He shook his head. “Oh, that’s a long shot. That’s a very long shot.”

  “Someone in that office might remember seeing you with him, might be able to describe him. Cash’s secretary, Carlie, was she working that day?”

  “Sorry,” Ramirez said with an apologetic smile. “I don’t know the names of any of his personnel....”

  “Medium height, jeans, T-shirt, short dark wavy hair, big smile,” Hayes described her.

  “Smart mouth?” Ramirez said with a faint grin.

  “That’s Carlie
.”

  “She’s memorable,” Ramirez had to admit. “Yes, she was working.”

  “From what I’ve heard, she has a photographic memory,” Hayes continued. “If she saw your agent, she’ll know what he looked like.”

  “Finally,” Ramirez exclaimed. “A break!”

  “Yes, but we can’t advertise it,” Hayes said. “We don’t need another tragic death because the drug traffickers panicked.”

  “I see your point. Okay,” Ramirez told him. “I’ll drop by casually and talk to Cash before I do anything.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Garon added. “It won’t look suspicious, if people think I’m dropping in on my brother.”

  Ramirez smiled. “Nice angle.”

  “I can be devious,” Garon chuckled. “I used to work on the FBI hostage rescue team a few years back.”

  “I’m impressed,” Ramirez said with a smile.

  Lassiter checked his watch. “I have a few calls to make. But if you need any help that I can give, I’m always available.”

  Hayes’s eyes narrowed. “Just who do you work for?” he asked.

  Lassiter grinned. “Nobody you know.”

  “You worked for my wife’s father,” Hayes pointed out.

  “As a cover,” Lassiter replied. “El Jefe fed me enough information to hang Mendez out to dry, before your buddy Carson turned him into human sushi,” he sighed. “So that assignment’s off the table now.”

  “There’s another Mendez,” Hayes pointed out. “El Ladrón’s cousin, the mayor of Cotillo.”

  “He doesn’t have a footprint on this side of the border, well, not one that we can find,” he amended. “Pity. We get a lot of our budget from the Rico statutes.”

  “We?” Jon asked. “We, who?”

  “Sorry. Need to know.” Lassiter shook hands all around. “It was an honor to work with you. Maybe we can do it again one day.”

  “MIT?” Hayes mused.

  Lassiter chuckled. “Yes. But can you really see me in a classroom teaching physics?”

  “Not hardly,” Hayes had to admit.

  “My dad was totally outraged that I wasted that expensive education. And he doesn’t approve of the work I do—neither does Mom. They think it’s too dangerous. But I just smile and do what I please. My dad’s a great guy.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “I hope you get back on your feet soon,” he told Hayes.

  “Thanks. Coltrain says I’m making great progress. But for now, I’ll just sit at my desk and give orders.”

  “Nothing wrong with that,” Lassiter agreed. “See you guys.”

  Hayes watched him go with narrow-eyed curiosity. “‘I met a man who wasn’t there...’” he quoted.

  The others burst out laughing.

  * * *

  Across the border, at a deserted cabin, just after Carson got Hayes and Minette out of the country, a man with a gold-plated, jewel-gripped automatic pistol was raging at his enforcer and his aide.

  “You let them escape?” Charro Mendez raged at his enforcer Lido.

  Lido wasn’t a man who feared much, but he knew what Charro did to people who crossed him, and he began to sweat.

  “I left Pepito here to guard him. Pepito knew we had his wife and children under surveillance, that we could kill them whenever we wished!”

  “Then where is Pepito?” Charro raged again. “And where are my prisoners?!”

  “I do not know,” Lido said, swallowing hard. “But I will find them...”

  Charro pulled out his weapon and shot Lido twice in the chest. He watched the man fall to the ground with disgust.

  Jorge started backing up, his hands held out in front of him.

  Charro glared at him. “I cannot kill you,” he said, irritated. “My sister would never forgive me.”

  “What about him?” Jorge indicated the dead man on the ground.

  “Leave him,” Charro said with contempt. “Let the coyotes feast on him.” He bent down and retrieved the automatic that was still in Lido’s belt, unfired. “He has ruined my plans. El Jefe has his daughter back and he will now want revenge.”

  “We have much protection,” Jorge began.

  Charro laughed coldly. “Ah, well, at least we can pay Pepito back for his treachery. Come. We will take care of his family personally. Stop flinching! Be a man for once!”

  “But I cannot kill a child,” Jorge wailed.

  Charro sighed angrily. “Then we must find someone who can. Come.”

  They arrived back in Cotillo to find a house burning. Charro went down the hill to look, with Jorge beside him. “Is that not Pepito’s house?” Jorge exclaimed.

  “I think it is.” Charro walked over to a crying woman. “What happened here?”

  “The house caught on fire, señor,” she sobbed. “I saw the woman and her children, and even her husband, inside it! They are all dead!”

  Charro relaxed. So he had his retribution after all, and he would make sure that everyone in his organization knew the penalty for betraying him. He would say that he set the fire himself, to punish Pepito and his family.

  He turned and walked away with Jorge beside him.

  The sobbing woman looked after him. She smiled coldly. Out of her pocket she pulled five hundred-dollar American bills. What a small service for such a price. She would find work across the border, financed by this windfall, and never have to worry about living in fear again. She did wonder where the tall American with the long black hair got so much money, but she didn’t ask questions. He set the house on fire and told her exactly what to say to the mayor before he left. He was handsome, that one, and she was single and pretty. But he was all business. He did not flirt, and his eyes said nothing that his lips did not echo. He was cold as ice. Just as well, she thought. She did not need the complication of a romance in her life right now. She was going to be free of the drug wars, and that was something.

  * * *

  Carson made one call from his cell phone to El Jefe.

  “It’s done,” he said. “He bought it.”

  There was deep laughter. “So now, Pepito and his family are safe with me, and Charro will not try to come over and kill them. I will tell him. He will be very grateful. If I can do anything for you...”

  “Thanks, but I don’t need anything.” He hung up. His black eyes searched the horizon. Somewhere out there was a man who’d killed his friend, the computer tech, Joey. He’d been protective of the boy, who had no family and no ties. It was like losing a brother.

  He put away the cell phone. The missing computer had a code that it would transmit when it was activated. That had been Carson’s idea, but Joey had implemented it. Back at Eb Scott’s impressive compound, a computer was on, waiting for that signal to come. He had no idea if and when some computer tech would try to retrieve the information that Joey had painstakingly recovered. But he imagined they would be curious enough to try to read the hard drive. When they did, Carson was going to follow the hidden signal to the source; and there would be payback.

  * * *

  “What did you find out?” Minette asked her husband when he got home that afternoon.

  “Let’s see, that Lassiter works for some agency we’ve never heard of, that Mendez is smarter than he looks and that we may have a way to find out what that DEA agent looks like after all.”

  “We do? How?” Minette exclaimed.

  Hayes started to speak, looked around and smiled. “Just kidding,” he said. But his eyes were making a comment—he couldn’t be sure that the room wasn’t bugged. He was taking no chances. A politician with ties to the drug cartel was going to be very dangerous, and he might need help from Minette’s father to avert disaster. There was also the worry that when they found the traitorous drug agent, there would be reprisals from Charro Mendez. But he wasn’t going to talk about that in a room that he hadn’t had Zack sweep for bugs. He smiled at Minette. “I wish I had a few leads in the murder of the computer technician.”

  “I wish you
did, too. I’m sorry.”

  He pulled her close, still wincing a little. “I got you something for Christmas,” he said. “Something I think you’ll like.”

  “Did you?” She grinned. “I got you something, too.”

  “What is it?”

  “I won’t tell.”

  He kissed her. “Please?”

  “I won’t tell.”

  “Pretty please?” He kissed her again.

  She looped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. “Never.”

  He sighed, and just kissed her.

  * * *

  On Christmas morning, the kids tore into their presents as if the world was ending. Sarah was exclaiming over warm socks and a sweater that Minette and the children had given her. Hayes was sighing over four ties that came from the wives of his deputies. They were both still reeling from her father’s unexpected gift, a yearling from one of his prize racehorses to, as El Jefe put it, begin her own line of thoroughbreds. She and Hayes had each given him a colt from their palominos, which he honestly seemed to love.

  Minette handed Hayes a box, gaily wrapped with many ribbons. “Open that.”

  He studied her quietly and then the box. It was long and huge. “What is it?”

  “Open it and see.”

  He tore off the wrapping and wrenched off the end of the box with the strength of his good arm. He caught his breath. “A new spinning rod!” he exclaimed.

  “Top-of-the-line. I got one for me, too, so we can go fishing next spring,” she said, grinning from ear to ear.

  “You sweetheart!” He leaned over and kissed her, hungrily. “Thanks!”

  “Open ours, Hayes, open ours!” Julie exclaimed.

  Shane handed it to him with a grin.

  He laughed and undid the wrapping paper and ribbons. Inside were three new cartoon movies. He gathered the kids up close and hugged them.

  “You angels,” he exclaimed. “I haven’t seen these!”

  “Neither have we,” Shane told him with a chuckle.

  “We want to watch them, too,” Julie said. She kissed his cheek. “It’s very nice that you’re our brother now, Hayes,” she added. “We love you very much.”

  “Yes, we do,” Shane agreed, grinning.

  Hayes was trying not to break down. “I love you guys, too.”

 

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