Cruz had to give the man credit. “Good point.”
They reached the hospital vault door and Minos unlocked it. “I’ll just wait here again, right?”
“That would be great. We’ll be through in a few minutes.”
“Or vaporized,” El Rey muttered.
Cruz ignored the comment and led him into the pump room. “The bomb’s on the third floor, in an elevator maintenance room. Aranas did his homework – according to the experts, that’s where it would inflict maximum damage. All the facility’s gas pipes run next to it, as well as the pressurized air lines. The blast would set those off, too. It would be ugly.”
“Then best if we don’t set it off.”
They took the stairs to the third level and moved along the corridor to where a group of security guards lounged by the elevators. Cruz greeted the men and told them to clear the area, and they did so without protest. Rumors had been racing through the hospital like wildfire as tensions heightened, and one of the more popular was that there was a bomb in the building.
Cruz stopped the supervisor as he was preparing to leave.
“I need you to unlock this door.”
The man fumbled for his keys and tried several, his hands unsteady, and finally found one that fit the lock, which sprang open with a clunk. Cruz stepped toward the door. “Thanks. You can go now, but I don’t want anyone disturbing us – is that clear?”
“Yes, Capitan. Of course.”
El Rey waited until the man had disappeared before moving to Cruz. “You going to open it?”
“Might as well see what we’re dealing with, right?”
“Although there’s not much we can do by looking. Either the switches work, or they don’t.”
Cruz pulled the door wide and they stared at the container, which was large enough to easily accommodate a V8 engine and had a single red LED blinking on its side. “There’s a lot of C-4 in that thing. Hundreds of kilos,” Cruz said. “I saw the X-ray images of the museum device.”
“You can say what you like about our bomb maker, but he’s good at what he does.”
“I hope so, given that you have his work in your hands.”
El Rey had removed the console from the backpack and flipped the toggle switches on all three channels to off. His mouth twitched as a thought occurred to him. “Hope he remembered to put new batteries in recently.”
“You didn’t check?”
The assassin shrugged. “Here goes nothing,” he said, and pressed the button marked Hospital.
The LED blinked a final time and went dark.
Cruz exhaled in relief, and El Rey smiled. “See? Easy.”
“Let’s get moving. I’ll have the bomb squad move in once we’ve disabled the other one.”
The assassin glanced at his watch and then back to Cruz. “Lead the way. But we’re not going to make it if there’s any traffic.”
“I told you I’ve got it covered,” Cruz said.
El Rey slid the console back into his pack and leveled a neutral gaze at Cruz. “It’s your party.”
Chapter 51
When Cruz and El Rey emerged from the CFE building into the morning sunlight, Cruz pointed at a skyscraper at the end of the block. “That’s our ride.”
El Rey blinked. “That’s a building.”
“I know. Come on.”
They left Minos in the lot and trotted to the lobby of the edifice, where two serious Federal Police officers waited. “Everything ready?” Cruz asked, and the nearest one nodded.
“On the roof.”
They rode the elevator to the thirtieth floor, where two more Federales framed a steel door. One of them held it open for Cruz, who led El Rey up the stairway to the roof. As they neared they heard the whirring of a helicopter turbine. Cruz pushed open another door and stepped outside, where an unmarked helo idled, its rotor orbiting slowly.
“I figure we can put down on one of the nearby buildings. This should buy us fifteen minutes, at least,” Cruz called over his shoulder to the assassin as he jogged toward the aircraft.
The helicopter lifted into the sky seconds after the doors were closed, and the pilot ascended to just above the tops of the highest surrounding buildings. “All air traffic’s been shut down along the route, but why attract attention?” Cruz explained.
El Rey closed his eyes as if napping.
Five minutes later the chopper touched down on the roof of a bank several blocks from the Federal building. El Rey dropped from the helicopter and Cruz trailed him to where a Federal policeman stood by an iron door.
“We’re going to have to use the sewers on this one, unfortunately,” Cruz announced as they neared the officer. “I’ve arranged for protective clothing.”
“Not like I haven’t done it before,” El Rey said. “But an important question: how many people know about all this?”
“I’ve deliberately kept the circle small. Briones, whom you know. A handful of others, people I trust completely. Why? You can’t be worried about a leak…”
“That’s exactly what I’m worried about.”
“My men are loyal.”
El Rey didn’t respond, but his expression indicated that he wasn’t impressed by Cruz’s assurances.
Don Aranas punched his cell phone off with a curse. His deputy, Ramirez, looked at him from over the rim of his coffee cup.
“What is it?”
“Another double cross. Stupid bastards are forcing my hand.”
“But we’re in the process of picking up the diamonds. What’s the point?”
“I don’t know, but we’ve been screwed.” Aranas’s face darkened. “I’m going to detonate the bombs.”
Ramirez set his cup down and formed his words carefully. “Maybe we let them blow themselves up without our help?”
“No. This is about control. I issued exact instructions. They’ve violated the agreement, and they’ll pay the price.”
“But we’ll have the diamonds in a few more minutes.”
Aranas stood. “Which is about how long it will take me to make it to the attic,” he snarled. “This was never about the money. It was about…never mind. Somebody still hasn’t learned their lesson. But they soon will.”
A roadwork supervisor pointed at an open manhole and looked Cruz and El Rey up and down. “You sure about this?” he asked doubtfully.
Cruz nodded. “We don’t have a choice. You have the blueprint of the network?”
“Don’t need it. I’ve been working the pipes for twenty years. Know every inch of ’em.”
El Rey took in the man’s boots and gas mask, twins of the ones he and Cruz wore. “Let’s get going.”
The supervisor took the hint, slipped the mask and his bright yellow hard hat on, and lowered himself down the manhole. When the top of his head disappeared beneath the rim, El Rey followed him into the gloom, and Cruz brought up the rear. The supervisor switched on his helmet light and El Rey did the same. A channel containing odious fluid coursed along the bottom of the tunnel, and an army of cockroaches scuttled from their lamp beams. The supervisor kept to one side, motioning with his hand to indicate that they should do the same.
A rat scurried away, its coat gleaming dark brown, wary of the intrusion into its dominion. They continued along, the floor sloping downward at a gradual angle, until they reached another shaft above them, the only marking a spray painted number in what had once been bright yellow but was now caramel from years of astringent fumes.
The supervisor gestured at the rungs leading upward, and El Rey wasted no time climbing them, his backpack hanging by a shoulder strap. At the top of the shaft he encountered a metal hatch, rusted along the edges, and he pushed up with all his might. The plate groaned and rose, and he continued his ascent. Cruz followed him into the large maintenance room, their helmet lamps lighting the area, and they removed their masks and the rubber boots that covered their shoes and trousers.
“This way,” Cruz said, moving to the door.
“We’re ru
nning low on time,” El Rey reminded him.
Cruz’s face darkened. “I know.”
Don Aranas mounted the steps to the top floor as he dialed the president’s number. He wanted the fool on the phone when he detonated the bomb. One of his police informants had tipped him off about an irregular helicopter flight to the Federal building, and he’d connected the dots – it had taken off within a few blocks of the hospital, and he could think of only one reason anyone would be making that trip with such urgency it required flight.
His phone beeped, indicating an incoming call. He switched lines, and the voice of his courier sounded from the phone.
“I’ve got the stones. We’re pulling away. We’ll be taking evasive maneuvers while we switch them to new bags.”
“How long until you’re clear?”
“No more than five minutes, tops. I have a crew running interference. Nobody will be able to follow us – the way is blocked by a truck. And we’ll change to the motorcycles once we’re in the underground parking area.”
Aranas did a quick calculation and grunted. “Call me when you’re through.” He terminated the call and eyed the attic door. He could afford to wait a few more minutes for his newfound fortune to be secured. Not that he needed the money; it was to drive home the point that crossing him carried a high price.
He freed the attic hatch and the wooden steps lowered into place.
Aranas was strangely ambivalent about what he intended to do. His hand had been forced by the president’s stupidity. What happened next was simply the inevitable conclusion of a series of disastrous decisions by a man with the moral qualms of a heroin-addled street prostitute.
He climbed the steps and moved across the attic to the console. His hand felt at his breast pocket and he retrieved a pair of reading glasses from beside his trove of cigars. After slipping them on, he squinted at the box and flipped up the cover on the final button – the one that would obliterate the building he could see from his balcony, a symbol of the government’s authority – and soon to be another glaring example of its inability to protect its citizenry.
Cruz and El Rey emerged into a long hall, at the end of which was the room where the bomb had been discovered. They made their way toward it, only to find themselves facing a group of eight guards, all of them obviously exhausted and agitated.
“Stand aside. We need to get in there,” Cruz said, fingers resting loosely on his Glock for emphasis.
“Why?” the largest of the men demanded.
“That’s none of your business,” Cruz snapped back. “Move out of the way.”
“So you can blow us all up?” another belligerent guard said. “We haven’t slept in days, and you show up barking orders? Who the hell do you think you are, anyway?”
“Look – I know this has been a difficult situation, but let’s keep it simple: I’m a captain in the Federales, and you’re a rent-a-cop. Now move aside.”
The large man glowered at Cruz. “We were good enough to keep everyone from rioting, but now we’re grunions? Screw you. How do we even know you’re really cops? For all we know, you’re terrorists.”
The color rose in Cruz’s face at the overt refusal to yield to his authority. His hand gripped the Glock as he stared the men down. “You realize that I can have you all locked up for a very long time for obstructing a federal officer, right? That outside of your little make-believe world in here, I can have you jailed for years?”
El Rey saw the fire in the men’s eyes and edged away from Cruz. Going head to head with an exhausted, panicked group wasn’t getting them anywhere, and only footsteps away was a bomb that could turn them all to fine mist.
“Hey. Where are you going?” the big guard demanded, but the assassin remained silent as he kept moving while freeing the console from his backpack. “Did you hear me?” the guard barked, and then his eyes widened in fear. “Wait – what’s that?” he yelled, pointing at the console in the assassin’s hands. The guards moved in a rush toward El Rey as Cruz drew his weapon an instant too late.
Aranas’s cell trilled. When he answered it, the courier spoke the words he’d been waiting to hear. “We’re clear.”
He hung up and dialed the president. An aide answered and Aranas growled into the phone. “Tell your idiot boss to go stand by the window and look at the cost of his betrayal.”
“What? Who is this?” the aide stammered.
“Tell the president that his day of reckoning is at hand,” Aranas hissed, and then pushed the console’s third button.
Chapter 52
Cruz stood outside Federal Police headquarters with Dinah, dressed in street clothes instead of his uniform. He looked down at his trousers and then back at his wife.
“It’ll take a while to get used to being a civilian,” he said.
“You have about seven and a half months before you can add being a civilian daddy.”
He smiled. “Both will take some adjustment.”
“How did the meeting go?”
“As I expected. They tried everything to get me to commit to at least another six months so they could find a successor and ensure a smooth transition. I refused. They wanted to stick some politically connected hack into the job, but I told them that they already had my replacement working in the ranks.”
“Briones,” she said with a nod.
“Of course. He’s ready. And more importantly, he’s got youth and idealism on his side. He’ll put in the necessary hours, see things through, and won’t make the kinds of compromises that erode the effectiveness of any government organization.” Cruz shrugged. “Of course they hated the idea.”
“Some things never change.” She took his hand. “How long do we have the condo for?”
“Two weeks.”
“And your pension?”
“They tried holding that over my head, but I told them if they screw with me, I go to the press about what actually happened. That would shut down the administration, which they realize. So they agreed to my full pension, plus an additional 50% as long as I live for honorable service rendered.”
“Hush money, huh?”
“Exactly. Which I’m not too proud to take. I want to spend that time with you…and our baby.”
“That’s the right response.”
“Sometimes even I figure it out.” He squeezed her hand. “I’ll still have to put in some time over the next week helping Briones come up to speed, but he’s already involved in most of the cases, so it shouldn’t require much. And then we’re out of here. For good.”
“What about the Aranas task force?”
“I quit. This time there was no argument. It was always a farce, so nobody fought me.”
She smiled. “Then where to?” They’d discussed possible living destinations, but hadn’t come to any conclusions.
“How about Cozumel? Beaches and the ocean, but remote enough so nobody will recognize me. And slow, so no rat race.”
“Only if you agree that if I don’t like it, we can move.”
“Of course.” He looked down the block and spotted a familiar figure standing by a hot dog vendor preparing meals from a grimy cart. “Can you give me a minute? I have some unfinished business.”
“I’ll just stand here and pretend to be a call girl or something.”
“Won’t be long. And for the record, I’d be your best customer.”
“Your pension isn’t that big.”
Cruz made his way down the block to where El Rey waited, his baseball cap pulled low over his brow, his wraparound sunglasses further disguising his appearance. Cruz eyed the hot dog vendor’s wares and made a face.
“You eat that?” he asked.
“Of course not. I live dangerously enough without tempting fate with that poison. You think I have a death wish or something?”
Cruz laughed. “I heard from my sources that Aranas was on the line with the president while we were in the building. Apparently he tried to detonate the bomb.”
“That must have been a
n awkward call.”
“I’d think so. But you saved the day.”
“Somebody had to. The way you were going, we were going to be there all afternoon arguing.”
The big guard had snatched the console away from him, and for his trouble gotten a throat strike that felled him like an oak. El Rey had dived for the console as it tumbled to the ground, and caught it no more than a few millimeters from the hard floor. He’d depressed the button as three of the security men had moved in on him, and it had only been Cruz’s warning shot that had stopped the men in their tracks. The reality of his Glock had won the day, and after verifying that the bomb’s LED had gone dark, he’d radioed headquarters while holding his weapon on the guards.
“So this is it. We’re square,” Cruz said.
“Technically, you still owe me one, but I might let that slide seeing as I’m out of the life.”
Cruz nodded. “Not like I could do much for you anymore. I quit, like I said I would. So now I’m a free man.”
“Lot of that going around.”
“And you? Now that you’ve gotten your antidote – now what?”
“To be determined. I have one final bit of business I need to attend to, and then I’ll disappear. Since everyone believes me dead, I have nothing but options.”
“Sometimes I wish everyone believed me to be, too.”
“For the right price you can paper that and create a whole new identity that will withstand scrutiny. I can give you some contact names, if you like.”
“You have my anonymous email?”
“I’ll send it by the end of the day.”
The two men stood awkwardly. After a long moment Cruz extended his hand. “Nice working with you. Stay out of trouble.”
“That will be my life’s goal.”
He looked back over his shoulder at where his wife stood, carefully avoiding glancing in her direction. “There are worse ones.”
Chapter 53
Rafael Norteño closed his briefcase with a snap, glad the long day was finally over. After the odd call with Aranas, where the drug lord had indicated he was going to detonate the bomb, the president had been in a notably upbeat mood. When no explosion ensued and Aranas had abruptly hung up, the ugly episode was officially over, with a press conference announcing that the terrorist threat had been neutralized. The president had shone at the media event, all refined seriousness and determination.
Rage of the Assassin: (Assassin Series #6) Page 24