JET V - Legacy (32 page)

Jet moved back to the phone and dialed another number.

“Well, hello there,” Matt answered, and Jet immediately felt the familiar tug of emotion he evoked in her so easily.

“Hello yourself. How did you know it was me?”

“Nobody else calls me.”

“Where are you?” she asked.

“In the wilds of Vietnam. How about you?”

“Getting out of Dodge,” she replied, preferring to keep things vague.

“Wow. That was quick.”

“No point in wasting any time, was there?”

“Guess not. Everything turn out okay?”

Jet took a deep breath. “Routine. How about you?”

“A few surprises. Nothing I couldn’t handle. I’ll tell you all about it in person. I ran my errand and I’m just loafing around now.”

“Vietnam, huh? The old stomping grounds lost their charm?”

“Yup. I got tired of Thailand pretty quickly,” he said, a slight edge in his voice.

She didn’t press him. There would be time to fill in the blanks later. “Nothing stays the same.”

“Indeed.”

“Are you near an airport?” she asked.

He paused. “I could be within four or five hours.”

“I was thinking. Maybe we should hook up in Singapore. From there we can make our way to South America. We still have a date for that, right?”

“You bet. When will you be there?”

She looked at her watch. “In about twelve hours.”

“I’ll have to check on flights, but it sounds doable. I may take longer, though. Will you wait for me?”

She debated possible responses, and then smiled.

“Absolutely.”

~ ~ ~

Back at the safe house, Jet handed Isaac her dead phone and her gun as she was preparing to leave. He accepted them without expression, sitting at his workstation, the screens dark now, the mission finished.

Jet lifted her bag and slid the strap over her shoulder, watching him as he slipped the weapons into a drawer. She was still wearing the robe and the veil, preferring the anonymity, and figured she would get rid of the outfit once at the airport.

“Thanks for all the help, Isaac,” she said as she backed toward the door.

“No problem. You know, I never even knew your name.”

“Best to leave it that way.”

She caught a small movement, a shift, a flicker of his eyes, and she shook her head, fixing him with a hard stare.

“Don’t, Isaac. You don’t have to do this,” she said softly.

He shrugged, a sad expression on his face. “I’m afraid I do. Following orders,” he said, then raised a tranquilizer gun from where he’d had it in his lap, out of sight, the desk shielding it from view.

The 9mm parabellum round hit Isaac high in the chest and he dropped the weapon, his eyes registering surprise, the smoking hole in her abaya from the gunshot all the explanation he needed.

She withdrew Eric’s silenced pistol from the garment and popped the magazine out, taking care to eject the round from the chamber before placing the weapon on the table in front of him.

“I could have killed you. You’ll live, but you’ll need to get to a doctor for that. I figure you have someone discreet you use. Is that right?”

He nodded, blood seeping from between his fingers as he clutched the wound.

“I’ll do a compression bandage. Keep pressure on it and you should make it. Give me the doctor’s number, and when I’m safely away, I’ll call him and have him come for you.” She took a step closer to him, staring deep into his eyes, her gaze unflinching. “That’s what I’m willing to do for you. Now, let’s talk about what you’ll need to do for me. You’re going to call your handler and tell him that I contacted you and won’t be here for three more hours – I stopped for lunch and to get a new phone. If you say anything else, no matter how innocent it sounds, I’ll cut your throat and let you bleed to death. Clear?”

Isaac nodded, and she picked up the handset on the desk. “What number are you supposed to call?” He told her and she dialed it, and then held out the phone. He took it with a hand slick with blood and did exactly as she’d instructed, her eyes boring through him the entire time.

Ten minutes later he was seated in the kitchen, hands cuffed to a length of chain that she’d fastened to a gas line that ran under the cabinets, a bloody makeshift bandage in place. After a final look around, she lit one of the burners and then tossed the still-smoking wooden match on the floor by his feet.

“Just be patient. It’ll be five hours before I call for help. The bleeding has all but stopped, so just don’t exert yourself and you’ll be fine. I’ve got the doctor’s number.” She glanced at the chain. “If you try to pull the pipe loose, the room will flood with gas and the burner will ignite it before you have a chance to reach it. So bad idea. Just stay still, conserve your energy, and wait for the doctor.”

Jet opened the refrigerator and removed a liter bottle of orange juice, then unscrewed the top and placed it within his reach.

“Keep hydrated. The juice will help replace the blood you’ve lost. Pace yourself. Here, I’ll give you some water, too,” she said, reaching into the fridge and grabbing a plastic container before setting it on the floor near him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his tone meek. “I had to do it.”

“I know.”

Jet moved to where she had left her bag, then approached the front door and gave Isaac a parting wave. “I’ll leave this open so he can get to you easily. You should call the director once you’re freed and tell him what happened. He won’t be that shocked. Probably the only thing he’ll be surprised by is that I let you live. Consider it my gift to the agency. Tell him, and use these exact words:
I’m not the enemy
. Do you understand?”

Isaac nodded, pain clouding his eyes, and she knew that he would remember. For the rest of his life.

Jet made her way to the car and threw the bag onto the back seat. She would drive to one of the big hotels and leave the vehicle with the valet, then catch a taxi.

And disappear without a trace, her operational life behind her, finally, on her way to a brighter future, with Hannah – and now Matt – going to a destination where they could be safe, and ultimately, free.

At the airport, she placed a call at the internet café as she was waiting for her flight, much as she planned to do once she landed in India – honoring her commitment to Isaac to contact the doctor. Magdalena’s voice answered, sounding slightly out of breath.

“Magdalena. It’s me. I only have a few minutes, but I wanted to touch base and tell you that I should be home in a couple more days.”

“
Señora!
That’s wonderful news. Is everything…did you accomplish what you’d hoped to?”

“Yes, Magdalena, everything went well, and I miss you both. But I have some news. I want you to pack up and take a bus to Colonia, today, and get a hotel there. Please do it now. I’ll meet you there in a couple of days, and I’ll call to find out where you’re staying.”

“Oh. Is…is anything the matter?”

“No. But it should be nice on the water, and you’ve spent a lot of time where you are. A new town would be a good idea, just in case.”

“Just in case…”

“Don’t worry, Magdalena, everything’s fine. I’m just being extremely careful. Could you just please me on this?”

“Yes,
Señora
, of course. I’ll get our things immediately and take the next bus south.”

“Thank you, Magdalena. This is almost over.”

“And…we’re safe, right?”

“Of course. Again, there’s nothing to worry about. I was just thinking that it would be a good idea for you to move around a little. That’s all.”

“All right, then,” Magdalena said, a trace of doubt still lingering.

“Is Hannah there?”

“
Si
. Let me get her. She’s very excited – she played with a puppy in the park an hour ago.”

Ten seconds went by and then Hannah’s squeaky voice came on the phone. “Mama!”

“Hi, sweetheart. How are you?”

“Good,” Hannah said, sounding tiny and a million miles away.

“Mommy misses you.”

“Me too.”

“Have you been good?”

“Yeth,” Hannah assured her in a tone that made clear it was a stupid question.
Of course she’d been good. She was always good.

“I’m coming home soon.”

“Good.”

Jet had almost forgotten how limited a conversation with a two and a half year old could be.

“Magdalena tells me you played with a puppy today?”

“Yeth. I love him.”

“What kind of puppy was it?”

“A baby dog,” she answered tentatively, surprised her mother didn’t know what a puppy was.

“What kind of dog?”

She heard rustling as Hannah held the handset against something while she conferred with Magdalena, and then she returned to the conversation.

“A bagel.”

“A beagle! Those are very sweet dogs, aren’t they?”

“Yeth. Hannah want.”

“I’m sure you do, honey. But a puppy is a big step – a lot of work.”

“I want. Bagel. Baby bagel!”

“Well, we can talk about it when I get home. I have to go now, but I wanted to say I love you very much, my angel.”

“Me too,” Hannah said solemnly, and then her tone brightened. “I love bagel, too.”

Jet’s eyes moistened at her daughter’s single-minded determination and she smiled.

“I’ll be home soon. Bye bye, honey.”

“Bye bye, Mama.”

The overhead speaker announced boarding for her flight to India, and she rose and paid the attendant before making her way to the departing gate, a lump in her throat as she walked, visions of Hannah, and maybe Matt, playing in a yard with the cutest ‘bagel’ puppy the world had ever seen. Jet took her place in line with the other travelers and struggled to mute the emotions surging through her, the internal battle raging behind her placid gaze hidden from the surrounding passengers. By the time she made it to the podium and handed the attendant her ticket she was herself again, a cool, confident woman, self-possessed and in control.

She’d booked a window seat with nobody next to her, the plane only a third full, the traffic typically light on the return trip to India, and as the jet taxied to the end of the runway and began its takeoff run she closed her emerald eyes and pictured her daughter, her Hannah, rolling in the grass with a puppy, safe at last.

For a brief and precious moment, life was good.

<<<<>>>> 

Excerpt from Blood of the Assassin

Author’s notes:

Blood of the Assassin
is the fifth installment in the Assassin series, consisting of
King of Swords
,
Night of the Assassin
,
Revenge of the Assassin
,
Return of the Assassin
, and now,
Blood of the Assassin
. The series chronicles the exploits of
El Rey
, also known by his professional moniker “The King of Swords,” who is the most lethal and notorious cartel assassin in Latin America – now retired after a series of misadventures culminating in his being forced to work for CISEN, the Mexican intelligence agency.

Blood of the Assassin
can be read as the fifth in the series, or as a stand-alone. It was written so that if it’s the first Russell Blake book you’ve ever read, it’s coherent and complete, while if you’ve followed the
Assassin
novels to this point, it offers another
El Rey
adventure that is, perhaps, among the most satisfying. If you’ve read the others, skip the background paragraph that follows. If this is your first experience with the
Assassin
tomes, read on.

Blood of the Assassin
finds
El Rey
waiting for his next CISEN assignment. The world thinks he’s dead, which is just as well, as his former employer,
Don
Aranas, the leader of the Sinaloa cartel (one of the most powerful criminal syndicates in the world), is testy about his final contract having ended in failure and has put a ten-million-dollar price on
El Rey
’s head as retribution. Captain Romero Cruz, the chief of the Federal Police anti-cartel task force, and the man who ultimately captured the super-assassin and put him behind bars, has been told that the killer received a full presidential pardon for his past crimes, so
El Rey
is now a free man whose sins have been expunged. Cruz’s number two man, Lieutenant Briones, who was instrumental in the assassin’s capture and who took a bullet from
El Rey
’s gun, is also a key player in
Blood of the Assassin
, as is Dinah, Captain Cruz’s young wife (and the daughter of
El Rey
’s former facilitator, who died at his hands).

Blood of the Assassin
picks up a few months after
Return of the Assassin
left off.

It has been one of my favorite in the series to write, and I hope that you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed penning it.

Blood of the Assassin
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents, other than those clearly in the public domain, are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, either living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Chapter 1

Sweat streamed down Heinrich Vogel’s face in spite of the chill air gusting through the Berlin streets. The crisp wind sliced through his suit trousers, the heavy overcoat he hugged tight against his slim frame of little use. His footfalls echoed dully off the three a.m. façades of the gray apartment buildings framing both sides of the darkened
Obenstrautstrase
, the ponderous branches of the surrounding trees rustling overhead as he made his way from shadow to shadow, clinging to the night like a lover. He felt his mind playing tricks on him – no surprise after twenty-four hours like those he’d just had. At the next intersection, he paused, ears straining for any hint of pursuit. Nothing. It was all in his imagination.

A noise from down the block froze Heinrich in his tracks. Logic said it was impossible that he’d been followed – he had been meticulously careful, except for the one calculated risk he’d been forced to chance in order to get the information.
A risk that may prove to be my undoing
, he thought grimly.