“Well, with all due respect, sir, it sucks.”
“It does indeed. But I didn’t ask you here to bemoan the decline of the rule of law. I wanted to know exactly where you had gotten when you stopped investigating. You were handling the guards and the driver – what was your impression of them?” Cruz probed. They hadn’t really discussed Briones’ findings since the case had been terminated so abruptly, and then things had become so hectic with the attack on the meth lab.
“I got a weird vibe from the driver. It’s hard to pin down. Just a gut feeling, but I don’t think he was leveling with me, or at least he wasn’t telling me everything he knows. But everyone’s stories were nearly identical, so I believe the attack went down the way they described. I just…” Briones sighed. “I didn’t like the driver’s attitude. He didn’t seem like the other two, trying to help and remember everything he could. He was more…guarded, I guess I would say.”
“Hmm. Well, perhaps he was just nervous due to his role in the episode? Nobody wants blame pinned on them,” Cruz observed.
“That isn’t it. If anything, he seemed, I don’t know, cocky. The two armed officers were on edge, sort of like I would be in that situation. After all, not a shot was fired by our team, and yet the most dangerous prisoner in existence was broken out in broad daylight. That doesn’t look good, even though I’m satisfied with their account. But the driver was less agitated, and more…polished. More sure of himself. The other two were still reeling from the attack, but the driver was very calm. I thought it was odd.”
“Maybe that’s just his personality.”
“Could be, but I don’t think so. After doing this for a while I’ve sort of developed a nose for things being wrong. And my instinct was that he was wrong, somehow. I just don’t know how. I was going to circle back and grill him again, but then the files got pulled and everything ground to a halt.” Briones studied Cruz’s face. He knew his boss well enough by now to see that he was troubled.
“Do you remember his background? Age? Name?”
“That was all in the files. I remember he was a career man, older than me…you know, come to think of it, I still have all my notes – I never had time to type them up from when I took them in the field.” Briones paused and narrowed his eyes. “Why? I thought we weren’t on this anymore…”
“We aren’t. I was just curious, is all. But it can’t hurt to look over your notes, can it? I mean, it’s not like I’m authorizing you to pursue an active investigation or anything,” Cruz said evenly.
Briones did a double take. “No, because another group is handling it. As you said.”
“Exactly. I’m simply remarking that it’s awfully slow around here since the meth lab debacle, so if you were to spend a few moments glancing over your notes, it wouldn’t take away from any pressing duties. Note I am not telling you to do anything in an official capacity. I was just tying up loose ends, now that this is out of our hands. Which it is. Completely.” Cruz finished his coffee with a slurp. “I trust I make myself clear?”
Briones hesitated. “It’s a shame to let all that work go completely to waste. But I understand. There is no investigation on our end. Nobody is working the case here because there isn’t one.” Briones smiled. “It is rather slow, isn’t it?”
“That’s the business. Even the bad guys take a break occasionally. Hopefully, you can find something to occupy your time until the next crisis. But under no circumstances are you to investigate any of the officers involved in the assassin’s escape, or work the El Rey case any further. That’s off limits.”
“Right. Because that would be bad. As my commanding officer, I don’t think you could put it any more unmistakably, sir,” Briones confirmed. “Will that be all?”
Both men grinned.
“Idle hands, young man. Try to stay out of trouble during this lull.”
“Of course, sir. I’ll just be going now.”
“Carry on.”
~
El Rey pressed the speed dial button and waited for Hector’s distinctive voice to answer.
“I presume you got the information you were after?” Hector asked, having already been informed of the raid’s success.
“Yes. I have a target now.”
“That’s wonderful. What’s the plan? What logistical support do you need? Another armed incursion? Just say the word. We’re ready to go.”
“I’m afraid not. I need to do this one alone.”
Hector digested that in silence. When he spoke, he was clearly skeptical. “Why?”
“You can’t be involved.”
“Explain.”
El Rey did. Forty-five seconds later, Hector fully appreciated the difficulty the situation presented.
“What do you need?”
El Rey ran down the list he’d compiled, ending with his probable equipment requirements.
“The actual weapons may change once I get a chance to study the variables more closely. I’m just guessing right now.”
“I understand. When are you thinking of going in?” Hector asked.
“As soon as possible. Only this time, I’ll be doing it solo – I work best alone. But I have a condition. Given what I’ve just explained to you, it will be impractical to coordinate a meeting for the booster shot. So I will need you to get it to me so I can inject it myself, in the event the timeline slips.”
“I’ll check, but have to say that is a non-starter. The pr– the powers that be were inflexible on that point.”
“I’d advise them to reconsider. Before, this was theoretical. Now it isn’t. I know exactly where the girl is being kept, and I have a fair idea what will be necessary to get her out safely. And I’m telling you that it could get messy, and I’ll need to be flexible, meaning that I may be off the grid for a while. You really don’t want this whole thing failing because I missed the shot, do you? We’re close and have made a lot of progress from where you were three days ago.”
“Noted. I’ll pass it up the line along with my counsel.”
“Alternatively, I can just wait until day six, and we can hope that nobody is raping Maria during the interim, or chopping her up for sport. You might want to share that possibility with the big man. Obviously, if I’m forced to wait for the shot, the odds increase of her being mistreated or killed with each passing hour. So in a way, it’s your call whether she gets rescued as soon as I can do it…or as soon as I can do it, after receiving the shot. But I’m telling you, I won’t be able to do both, so it’s decision time.”
“I think I’m clear on the situation. Leave the phone on. I’ll get back to you.”
The line went dead.
~
Hector thought through the ramifications of El Rey’s news. They were already walking a tightrope with the raid in Culiacán. They’d taken steps to make it appear to be the work of Los Zetas cartel, leaving liberal evidence implicating the group. Fortunately for the cover story it was believable that Los Zetas could carry out an attack on Paolo’s headquarters, and as long as the news validated that spin, that would be the official story. It wasn’t like Los Zetas would hold a press conference insisting that they hadn’t killed one of their hated enemies.
But the assassin was right. There was no way that the Mexican government could participate in an attack on foreign soil, regardless of the reasoning. And it couldn’t approach the other country’s administration. The second they contacted their counterparts, it was likely that word would get to Aranas, and the whole operation would be blown.
No, it would have to be a one man show.
Selling the president on giving El Rey the booster would be another matter. But perhaps the assassin had framed the scenario convincingly. They could either wait, at Maria’s expense, or do as he asked and give him a little more rope.
Hector racked his brain, groping for a viable alternative but finding none, and then made his decision. He rose from his position behind his desk and adjusted his tie before putting on his suit jacket.
; It was time to see the president.
~
El Rey studied the satellite images he had accessed online, debating which of the myriad possible approaches would be most likely to succeed. Unlike when he was performing a sanction, he would need to consider getting the girl out in one piece – and he had no idea what condition she was in, or even whether she could walk. He had to assume she couldn’t. If she was ambulatory, that was a plus.
The villa was perched near the tiny town of La Libertad, in the mountains that formed the natural border between Guatemala and Mexico. It had its own private road, situated on a steep hillside, and was large – about five thousand feet of construction under roof. That was consistent with the description Paolo had given him, and he’d told the assassin that the number of guards varied between eight and twelve, depending upon whether Don Aranas was in town or not.
Getting across the border with the necessary equipment wouldn’t be a problem that he could see – there were ample smuggling trails weaving across the hills and through the jungle, so a well-equipped ATV could make short work of the twelve miles from the Mexican side. The information that had come in from Hector on the state of the border was also reassuring – in Mexico, there were army patrols, but in Guatemala there was virtually no regular monitoring. The smuggling and human traffic tended to move from south to north, so Guatemala had little to fear, whereas Mexico was routinely inundated with refugees seeking a more prosperous life than to be had in their home country’s destitution – Guatemala was one of the poorest nations in an already spectacularly poor region.
If he could set up a staging area and get properly outfitted, he estimated that, moving at night, he could cover the distance from the nearest border point in two to three hours, depending upon the trails. To be safe, if he departed Comalapa, in Chiapas, Mexico, at nine, he could be at the villa no later than two to three a.m..
He liked the flexibility of an ATV for travel – even the hardiest four-wheel drive vehicle would get left in the dust by a skillfully-piloted ATV, and it gave him the option of staying off roads. His other issue was more fundamental – he hadn’t given much thought to taking out the eight guards – that was something he was comfortable dealing with. No, his problem was that he didn’t want to tell Hector exactly where the villa was, so he needed to misdirect the government. The last thing he wanted was for the president to launch a commando raid, damn the political consequences, rendering his usefulness at an end. For self-preservation, he wanted an edge, and keeping the Mexicans fuzzy on the location other than to say it was somewhere in northern Guatemala was the prudent course.
Now he just needed the booster shot and to make some secondary preparations for his return from Guatemala – it wouldn’t be a great idea to let the Mexicans know exactly where he planned to come out because there was nothing stopping them from grabbing the girl once he’d successfully rescued her and leaving him to die. Perhaps they would be honorable, or not, but he didn’t like his odds without an incentive for them to do the right thing. Recognizing that human nature wasn’t favorable in that regard, he’d come up with a devious mechanism to ensure they lived up to their side of the bargain.
When Hector called, El Rey wasn’t surprised by the response.
“Okay, you win. We’ll give you the booster. When are you thinking you’ll go in?”
“Tomorrow night, if you can get me a few odds and ends I’ll need. Nothing too exotic.” He gave Hector the short list. Extra fuel for the sound-deadened ATV he’d requested, a silenced assault rifle, a sniper rifle with night vision scope and silencer, a silenced pistol, sundry grenades and explosives, night vision goggles. Another half dozen small items rounded it out. He described his plan for entry into Guatemala in broad strokes and wanted to wait to notify the army until the last possible minute.
“We’ll shut down patrols for three hours along the border while you are slipping across. That will ensure you aren’t disturbed on the Mexican side riding an ATV bristling with weapons,” Hector said.
“That’s probably best. And we can sort out the return once I’m successful in rescuing her – there’s no telling whether it will be one day or three from when I go in.”
“But you’ll give us plenty of notice, correct?”
“Of course. Now, one other logistical issue we haven’t really discussed. The antidote. Assuming I pull this off, how can I know that you have given me the proper shot?” El Rey demanded.
“I figured you’d get around to asking. The doctors tell me they can do a blood draw before and after. There is a trace protein that will be elevated until you get the antidote, but it will recede to normal range within eighteen to twenty-four hours. The protein is a marker that corresponds to the action of the neurotoxin. We’ll do a pull before, and then after, and put your mind at ease.”
“I have a few further conditions. First, I need to know the chemical composition of the toxin, so I can verify with my sources that it would behave the way you say. Second, I want my blood drawn today and analyzed by a third party lab in Culiacán while I’m still here, so I can verify the elevated protein level for myself. Results can be faked – I can wait while they do the analysis locally. I know of a few laboratories that have spectrum analyzers. Would it show up on one of those?” El Rey asked.
“I think so. I’ll have to ask. I’m not a physician. As to the rest, I think we can accommodate you. I’ve been assured that creating an antidote on your own, regardless of your resources, would be impossible given the custom-tailored nature of the neurotoxin, so they don’t mind me telling you enough about it to verify we aren’t misleading you. But I’ll have to ask specifically what test to run on your blood, and whether it can be done by a lab there.”
“Fair enough. When will I hear back from you?”
“Give me an hour. As to the equipment, I’ll give your shopping list to the appropriate people. Where would you like it delivered?”
“Comalapa. Chiapas. With any luck, I’ll be there tomorrow night.”
Chapter 14
“Mi amor, what’s wrong. It’s like you’ve been somewhere else all through dinner.” Dinah regarded Cruz with concern.
“Oh, it’s just work. I smell a rat on this whole El Rey situation but I’m powerless to do anything about it. My hands are tied,” Cruz explained.
“Your instincts are usually right, though, aren’t they?”
“Mostly,” he conceded.
There was an uncomfortable silence. Neither had forgotten the difficulty of moving past the apparent betrayal from only a few months back. The wound was still fresh, and both were taking care not to aggravate the fragile accommodation they now had. For that reason, shop talk had been rare. It was still too close to home.
“I just hate to see you like this.”
“Tell me about it. Every ounce of experience I have says that there is something wrong about this escape, and now that it’s been pulled, I’m wondering whether it’s because we were getting too close to some truth we aren’t supposed to know.”
“The good news is that it isn’t your problem anymore, right?”
“Well, yes. But you know me well enough by now. Sometimes it’s just hard to let go.”
Dinah abruptly changed the subject. “Only a few more months until I’m Mrs. Cruz. Do you want to know how the preparations are going?” she asked innocently.
Cruz instantly recognized that he’d been unforgivably indifferent about the wedding lately. He was so caught up in his own drama he had nearly forgotten one of the most significant days of his life.
“Corazon, I’m so sorry. Yes, of course I want to know. Tell me everything. Leave nothing out. Tell me about the decisions you’ve made, about the dress, the ceremony, all of it.”
“I’ll spare you the minutiae. I have a dress I found that I’m having altered. We can do a simple church ceremony with only close friends, and then the civil at the reception, which we can have at my friend Lola’s restaurant. She’ll close off the back area, in the courty
ard, and we can have drinks and food there. Only twenty-five people. Which reminds me. You still owe me your list…”
Cruz grimaced. “I don’t really have anyone. Maybe Briones?”
It was true. His family had been killed, his parents were dead, and the only people he had contact with were from work. And because of his rank, there weren’t a lot of friendly relationships there – he kept to himself and was always strictly business with his associates.
“That’s a start. One guest for your side of the table. Start thinking, mi amor. You’ll need at least three or four more so it doesn’t look like I’m marrying a sociopath or a hermit.”
“I’ll tell Briones to bring a date. Now I’m down to three…”
She gave him a mock glare. “I can see this is going to be harder than I thought.”
“On the bright side, I love Lola’s place, and her food is great, so at least we won’t starve.”
“Ah. What am I going to do with you? Honestly. Start thinking of who else you want. We’re out of time, so you have one week, Capitan. After that, I’ll start inviting people from your work myself, and then you’ll have people you can’t stand sitting beside you,” she threatened.
“I’ll do my best. Really.”
~
Deep blue water sparkled like glass on the leeward side of the island. There was no surf to speak of due to the wind direction and the currents, and the white sand of the pristine beach was cinematic perfection. A magnificent white Mediterranean-style home sat thirty yards above the shore on a bluff. The elegant structure occupied the entirety of a point that jutted to meet the sea, ensuring complete privacy from unwanted scrutiny. Stone stairs hewn into the rock face led from the main deck to the private cove, where three men loitered beneath a large canopy, their weapons leaning against their chairs.
Guanaja Island, off the coast of Honduras, was one of Don Aranas’ many cherished retreats, where he could stay for a week at a time without fear of being disturbed. The property had cost him many millions, but the presence of an accommodating airport with compliant customs officers counted for much, as did the understanding stance of the local government and his ability to buy most of the surrounding land, ensuring that he had his treasured privacy.
Return of the Assassin (Assassin Series 3) Page 12