Return of the Assassin (Assassin Series 3) (28 page)

“Sure. I’ll set up an internet link that will be routed through China. As long as you’re only on for a minute, nobody will be able to tell where you’re calling from.”

“Can we make the call from anywhere there’s a wireless network?”

“Exactly.”

“That’s perfect. Oh, and I’ll need a supply of clean syringes and several grams of heroin. Let’s say two, to start.”

“Easy enough. You thinking about starting a habit?” Rudolfo asked.

“The reason will be obvious when I arrive.”

“I’ll see you on the ground there. I am supervising your project personally to ensure there are no surprises.”

“I appreciate that. A large bonus will follow for all your attention.”

“I have no doubt.”

The Land Cruiser twisted around another bend, and within a few minutes he saw the coconut shack. He turned, and soon they were on little more than a trail between massive agricultural clearings. The sun’s rays glittered off the plane on the right, in the far distance. Another turn and they pulled to a stop next to Alvarez.

The cramping was becoming more severe and the time between bouts shorter. He knew that the next symptoms would be far worse and hoped that he could get his errand over with before their onset.

Alvarez helped them into the plane, and within one minute they were bumping down the makeshift runway before lifting off, headed for their destination a scant forty-five miles away. With luck they’d be on the ground again in half an hour, and he would be winging his way to Mexico City shortly thereafter.

~

Cruz was buttoning his shirt as Dinah readied herself for her morning. She patted her stomach in the mirror, smoothing her knee-length black skirt, accented by a colorful purple blouse. Cruz, by contrast, looked funereal in his navy blue uniform.

“You look very handsome,
mi amor
,” she cooed. “I do seem to have a thing for a man in uniform…”

“Any man?”

“Well…do I have to choose only one?”

“Yes.”

“At a time?”

He did a double take. “You’re feeling frisky this morning,
eh
?” he observed.

“I thought you’d never notice.”

He glanced at the clock by the bed. “I could be late today.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t run my own division, so I can’t. All part of the humble school teacher credo,” she parried.

“You’re nothing but a tease.”

“It’s true. I thought you liked that about me.” She spun and put a hand on his shoulder to steady herself as she stepped into her shoes. “Have you decided what you’re going to do about the other thing?”

Cruz scowled, then relaxed his face. “I don’t know. I should probably just mind my own business and let it alone.”

She studied his eyes, a foot from his face. “That would probably be best.”

They both laughed, any tension broken. They both knew Cruz wasn’t the kind to just walk away from a fight.

“I think I’ve got to take my findings over CISEN’s head. There’s something bad here, something wrong, but it’s above my pay grade. So I’ll do what bureaucrats have done for the history of Mexico.”

She smiled. “Pass the buck.”

“Exactly. Make it someone else’s problem,” he agreed.

“Seems like a sensible course. How are you planning to do it?”

“That’s as far as I’ve gotten so far.”

She leaned into Cruz and kissed his cheek. “I’m sure you’ll pass that big old buck like a seasoned pro,
corazon
. You’ve seen it done more than enough times. I have total faith in you,” she said with a mock serious tone, then pulled away. “I have to go.”

“I know.”

“Call me later and tell me when you think you’ll be home. You want me to cook tonight, or should we plan on eating out?” she called to him as she moved down the hall from the bedroom.

“Let’s see what my day looks like. I’ll call. I promise.”

The condo front door shut with a
thunk
, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Cruz had considered approaching CISEN with his findings, but reconsidered when he’d thought through the ramifications. Who could he talk to there? Who was guaranteed clean and above suspicion? His run-ins with the group had always been filled with friction, and the truth was, he didn’t trust anyone in the organization. Their goals were usually at odds with his, from what he knew of their operations. Their appreciation of the law was selective and fluid, and they only seemed to notice if they were compliant if it suited their purposes.

No, there was nobody in that crowd he could confide in.

Much as he hated to narrow his choices, he was left with only one option.

The last resort.

~

Two and a half hours later,
El Rey
sat with Rudolfo in a car outside a hotel near the airport in Tapachula, Chiapas, a laptop on the center console, slim headphones over his ears. Rudolfo excused himself and exited the car, sauntering to the corner market in order to give the assassin privacy for his call. Hector answered within seconds.

“What the hell is going on?”

“I love you too, Mom.”

“This is no time for jokes. We’ve had reports of the Guatemalans going berserk – helicopters, a full national alert, gunfire…and then explosions in Chiapas, a destroyed car…”

“Things got messy,”
El Rey
conceded.

Hector stifled a sharp response.

“What is the status?”

“I’ve taken two bullets, but I’m okay.”

Hector took two calming breaths. “Not you. The girl.”

“Oh. Her. She’s fine.”

Hector exhaled audibly with relief. “You know damned well that’s not what I meant.”

“Yes, I suspected that you weren’t concerned about my wellbeing, nor with whether Maria has the sniffles or not. So I’ll make this fast.”

“Make what fast? Where are you? I’ll get a team to pick you up.”

“No. That’s not how this is going to work.”

Now Hector was getting angry. He choked back the harsh words that fought to seethe their way across the phone line.

“
Oh
really
. Fine. I’ll play along. Why don’t you tell me how you
think
things are going to work.”

“First, you need to get the antidote ready. I only got to inject half the booster, and I’m starting to experience symptoms. They began early this morning,”
El Rey
explained. “I don’t know how long until I’m past the point of no return.”

“We have it. But you know the deal. Bring the girl, you get the shot,” Hector stated flatly.

“See, that’s a problem. I don’t like that sequence. So here’s the new deal. You give me the shot, I give you the girl once I know it worked. That eliminates any temptation on your end to screw me. I verify the proteins are backing off and the symptoms have abated, you get the girl.”

Hector said nothing for half a minute, and the assassin could hear rustling, exactly like that caused by a phone being held against clothing.

He was back on the line shortly. “How do we know you have her?” Hector asked, stalling.
El Rey
could hear murmuring in the background. This had taken them by surprise, which was positive.

“I can bring you some easily identifiable personal possessions. Or if that’s not good enough, I can cut off a finger or two and bring them to you. Your forensics team can calculate how long the flesh has been severed, so you’ll know she’s alive, or was when I did it…”

He could hear a sharp intake of breath. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Want to bet?”
El Rey
asked reasonably.

More muttering. A different voice now. Distinctive.
El Rey
immediately recognized it.

“Is she all right?” the president began.

“Yes. There will be a few things to sort out, but she’s fine.”

“What do you mean, a few things…?”

“I prefer to tell you in person. But she hasn’t been harmed. She’s okay.”

“Then you were successful! But you’re trying to change our arrangement…”

“No, I
am
changing it. I don’t trust you,”
El Rey
said.

More hurried discussion.

“Hector tells me that you are symptomatic.”

“Correct. Which means you don’t have much time. Either you do this my way, or I go to my just reward and take your daughter with me. It’s your call. Make it,”
El Rey
countered.

A pause. Rustling.

“You can prove she’s all right?”

“Yes. I’ll bring some of her stuff. I have her, and she’s fine – for the time being. That’s all you need to know. Now make your choice, or I’ll make it for you, and you’ll never hear from me again. Or her.”

The trick was not to give them too much time to think.

Ten seconds passed before the president responded.

“Fine. Have it your way. How do you want to do this?”

“I can be anywhere in Mexico City within two hours. Have the injection waiting. Once I can confirm that my blood work is normal, I’ll tell you where to find her. The End. No drama, no hair pulling, just an equitable conclusion everyone is satisfied with.”

Hector came back on the line and gave him an address.

El Rey
checked his watch. Not that far from either Toluca or Mexico City airports. He could make it.

“I’ll be there within two hours. How long will it take for the antidote to work?”

“I don’t know for sure. But by the time you arrive, I will.”

El Rey
disconnected.

A few minutes later Rudolfo returned.

“Let’s roll. I need to be in the air immediately.”

He eased the car onto the road, and they were at the airport in three minutes. Rudolfo drove right onto the tarmac, through a security gate where he was waved through by an unquestioning security guard. The Lear 35 sat waiting, a shimmer of heat waves rising off the runway distorting its graceful shape.

El Rey
turned to Rudolfo in the driver’s seat and shook his hand. “If you don’t hear from me within two days, you know what to do.”

Rudolfo looked off into the distance, in the direction of the nearby ocean – the Pacific, a mere fifteen miles away. “I understand the instructions.”

The assassin nodded. Rudolfo was a professional and would do what was necessary.

He gathered his bag and swung the passenger door wide, the heat hitting him in the face like a blast from a furnace. “Talk soon.”

El Rey
slung the backpack over his shoulder, then jogged to the business jet and climbed the stairs. The engines wound up with a whine as the stairs folded up and the fuselage door was secured, and after a short taxi the slim tube was launching into the humid sky, leaving a trail of vapor from its wings as it climbed relentlessly into the clouds.

Two o’clock in the afternoon, and Mexico City was experiencing one of its many summer rainstorms, dense sheets of water slamming it with wind-driven force. The Lear bumped and bucked on approach as black clouds swirled ominously, and
El Rey
tried not to focus on the now regular muscle twitches that were assaulting him, along with a steadily-increasing aching in his joints. He swallowed three aspirin and washed them down with several swallows of water as the little plane heaved, dropping several hundred feet and jolting like an angry god had slammed it with the back of an omnipotent hand.

Just when he thought that the entire adventure would be over in a fiery crash into one of the mountains that ringed the city, they broke through the clouds and he saw the lights of the runway in the distance, the rain having slowed to a miserable drizzle, at least for a while. The plane dropped from the sky, the gusting wind batting them around with ferocity as they heaved towards the long airstrip.

The wheels touched down and water sprayed along both sides in a rooster tail as the jet skewed sideways, the pilots battling to straighten it out. They goosed the power and strained at the controls, and after a few heart-stopping seconds the Lear found its footing.

They coasted to the private aircraft charter building across from the main terminals, where a car was waiting to take
El Rey
wherever he needed to go.

Traffic was snarled, and the assassin checked and rechecked his watch as they crawled along. Eventually they arrived at the destination – a building one block from the unmarked private clinic Hector had told him would handle his recovery. He got out of the car and, once it had rolled away, set out in search of the clinic, his abdominal muscles cramping and a new, troubling cough burbling in his chest – one of the symptoms he’d been told was a signal that he was beginning to drift into the end stage, and possibly a point of no return.

He turned the corner and made his way to the center of the block. The discreet doorway was unremarkable, looking more like a restaurant service entrance than a medical facility that catered to high-ranking government officials. He stabbed the buzzer with a trembling hand, and two armed security men entered the foyer and studied him before opening the door. They quickly searched him, then each grabbed an arm and walked him into the depths of the building.

Hector was waiting for him in the antiseptic lobby area, where they were alone except for the two armed men. He gestured to El Rey to take a seat in one of the contemporary black leather chairs across from where he sat on a matching sofa.

“You look like shit,” he remarked as a greeting.

“So do you. But I have an excuse,”
El Rey
replied, taking a seat against the wall and glaring at the two guards.

“Change of plans. You give us the girl, then we give you the injection. As originally agreed,” Hector said.

“I guess we won’t be seeing much more of each other, then. This is as good a place as any to die,”
El Rey
said with an indifferent shrug.

“It will be excruciating. Nobody could face it. You’ll change your mind.”

“You’ll lose that bet. Are you going to tell the president that you just killed his daughter, or should I?”
El Rey
managed a small smile.