Blood of the Assassin (Assassin Series 5) (23 page)

“And?”

“I told him about the attempt on your life.”

“Nothing else?”

Briones looked away. “The kidnapping might have come up.”

“
Might
have?”

“Now that I think about it, I’m sure I mentioned it, because he was concerned that all of this would render you ineffective – that it would distract you from finding the German. He’s very critical, and felt your mind wouldn’t be fully engaged...”

Cruz rose and began pacing. “Looks like he was right about that. But I wonder...”

“What? You wonder what, sir?”

Cruz slowed and then paused in front of the window, peering out at the surrounding buildings as if seeing them for the first time. “Nothing... Lieutenant, if you don’t mind, I need to make a few calls. Let’s plan on resuming this discussion in an hour.” Cruz sounded suddenly distant.

Briones stood and finished his drink, then placed the cup by the machine. “Of course, sir. In an hour. Are you...going to call
El Rey
?”

“Among others. Now, not a word to anyone. Remember that everything we’ve discussed has to stay in this room.”

“I understand. It’s between you and me, sir. I get it.”

“Very good. Please close the door behind you.”

Briones did as instructed, and then walked slowly to his desk. He knew his superior well enough to know that something was brewing. But he wasn’t thinking clearly if it would in any way involve the assassin. The irony being that
El Rey
’s big concern was exactly that – that Cruz would be so preoccupied with his missing wife that it would color his judgment.

Whatever he was considering, Cruz had Briones’ sympathy. That he was functioning at all in light of the kidnapping was a kind of small miracle and a tribute to the captain’s fortitude. Briones knew and liked Dinah, and her being stolen from Cruz in that manner by the cartel, especially in light of what had happened with his family years before, the horror that had become a cautionary legend for its viciousness and cruelty...

It was too horrible to contemplate.

The lobby guards were only slightly less unfriendly than they had been the prior day, and treated
El Rey
as though they had never seen him before in spite of the fact that he recognized at least four of them from his other visits. The entire elaborate ritual was drawn out again until the terminal cleared him with a beep and he was directed to the elevators.

When he entered the foyer of the command center, there were more men there than earlier, so apparently staff had been added to keep up with the data streaming in. His gaze swept the room with interest, then he proceeded to Cruz’s office, where his progress was blocked a few feet from the door by Briones.

“Look. I want to apologize.
Capitan
Cruz didn’t get the message until this morning.”

“What does that mean? You didn’t pass it on?”

“It was hectic yesterday.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘No, I didn’t.’”

“It’s been a tough twenty-four hours. Everyone’s on edge. We’re all doing the best we can,” Briones countered, his tone becoming defensive at the assassin’s imperious attitude.

“Right. But my concern has always been that’s just not good enough. This merely confirms it.”

Briones decided not to escalate. “He’s waiting for you. Follow me.”

“I want to speak with him alone.”

“You will. But I’ll be there as well.”

El Rey
eyed him with his dead look and shrugged. “Whatever. Are you done wasting my time now, or do you want to posture some more? It’s very impressive.”

Briones pivoted and led him to the door, then knocked twice.

“Enter,” Cruz’s voice called.

When
El Rey
was seated in front of Cruz’s desk, Briones standing unobtrusively in the far corner behind him, Cruz and the assassin locked eyes.

“You wanted to see me?” Cruz began.

“Yes. I’ve gone over the information you sent and I spotted some more problem areas. I also think it would behoove you to start thinking offensively in terms of the weak spots. If you don’t, unless we catch a break, this assassin is going to get a shot at the target.”

“I presume you have suggestions?”

El Rey
pulled two folded pieces of ivory stationary from his pocket and slid them across the desk to Cruz, who picked them up and read them slowly, pausing to glance over the top of the documents at
El Rey
periodically.

“I see you’ve been busy. This all looks good. I’ll circulate your recommendations and get the various teams acting on them. Lieutenant, would you please take these and have someone type them up and e-mail them to me?” Cruz motioned with the papers, and Briones approached the desk. He clearly wasn’t happy to be dismissed from the discussion, but didn’t have much choice.

“Of course, sir. Now?”

“Yes, Lieutenant. Now. Don’t worry. I think I’ll be safe for a few minutes alone with our guest.”

Briones clumped out, and
El Rey
watched Cruz watching him for a few moments before Cruz finally spoke.

“You’ve no doubt heard about my recent...challenges.”

“Your lap dog told me yesterday.”

No ‘I’m sorry’ or sympathy from him. Fine. None was expected. Cruz nodded. “It’s a difficult situation. I can’t do anything officially for a host of reasons...”

“Namely, your organization is compromised,”
El Rey
stated flatly.

Cruz’s eyebrows arched. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. How else would they have been able to find you, and then your wife? That was the sequence, wasn’t it? Someone had to have told them. Trust me – these guys are not the sharpest. You figure that out once you’ve dealt with them enough. They have a certain animal cunning, and the natural instincts of any good predators, but few of them are that smart. So there’s no way they planned a hit on you, presuming your living location was protected and also secret, and abducted your wife, without inside information. Simple. Which means that you don’t know who you can trust.”

Cruz regarded him with newfound respect. “In a nutshell, yes.”

“Why are you telling me this? What does it have to do with this operation?” The assassin’s stare was emotionless, cold, his expression a blank.

“You mentioned that you’ve dealt with them.”

“I’ve done work for all the major cartels. What of it?”

“This was carried out by Los Zetas.”

“Bad news. And...?”

“I don’t know quite how to say this, so I’ll just come out with it. I would appreciate your help in finding my wife.” There. It was in the open now. Cruz sat back, equally expressionless as the assassin, two seasoned professionals playing poker with one another, neither willing to concede any advantage or display any weakness.

El Rey
shifted his eyes to the window. “I’m not in that business anymore.”

“I understand that. But you must still have contacts.”

The assassin shook his head. “Why should I help you?”

“Because you can. And because you never know when you’ll need the head of the anti-cartel task force as an ally. Someone who would owe you a favor. You’re working with CISEN. I’d imagine that’s not entirely voluntary – there’s got to be a story to it. However that may be, I’m one of the most powerful law enforcement officials in the country. Ask yourself whether that could come in handy at some point.”

“The president pardoned me. It doesn’t get much more powerful than that.”

“True. But tell me: Does he owe you a favor, then?”

“You could say that.”

“Then why are you working for CISEN?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Yes, it always is.”

El Rey
paused a few beats. “What did you have in mind?”

“I need to find Victor Torres.
El Jaguar
.”

“I suspected as much.”

“What do you mean?”

“I asked your boy about it yesterday.”

“Why?”

“I figured it couldn’t hurt to nose around. As you say, I still have an infrastructure – a network of contacts that have access to information that you, as a police officer, wouldn’t.”

“But that doesn’t explain the why...”

“Because I knew that eventually you would come to me.”

Cruz didn’t say anything for a moment. He stood and gestured at his coffee machine. “Can I get you some coffee?”

“No. I don’t drink it.”

“Very well. But I’m curious. I didn’t even know I was going to approach you until a few hours ago. How did you...”

“Then you aren’t firing on all cylinders. It makes perfect sense. I have a background with the cartels. I’m working with you on this project, whether I want to or not. And you’re desperate. It’s your wife. I’ve met her, you know.”

“Yes, I do know. The less said about that, the better.”

“I did what I had to do. Just as you’re doing what you have to do now. It’s the way of the world.”

Cruz poured himself a half cup of coffee, then turned back towards the seated assassin. “She’s an innocent.”

“They all are, aren’t they? But that never helps them. The innocents get hurt just as do the guilty ones. Again, it’s the way of the world.”

“Very philosophical. But I need your help.”

“I know.”

“What do I have to do to get you to cooperate?”

“Offering up a big favor is good. But it would help if there was more.”

“I could force you to do it, you know. You have a price on your head. Few know where you are, but that could change overnight.”

El Rey
’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Don’t go down that road. You’ve done well up until now. You don’t ever want to threaten me.” The cold menace in his voice was as palpable as though he were holding a gun to Cruz’s head.

“Fine. Now you’re in a position of power. What do you want? Name it. As long as it’s within my ability, I’ll do it. This is my wife we’re talking about.”

“Good. You understand the value of my services. Here is my condition. You will owe me a favor, all right, but there will come a time when I need to collect it, and you won’t want to honor your agreement. Right now, you’ll agree to anything, but once I perform, and you get your wife back, you’ll start telling yourself that my contribution wasn’t that big, and that you would have probably gotten her back without it. You’ll invent reasons to deny me my favor when I need it the most. My condition is simple. If I get your wife back, or provide information that gets her back, you will not deny me. If you do, she will die. That’s it. That’s my condition.”

“Once I give my word, I would never renege on it.”

“Perhaps. But this is my way of making this personal for you. Because if I wind up needing your help, and you screw me for any reason, I want you to be completely clear on what will happen. You might as well pull the trigger yourself at that point.”

Cruz nodded. “I understand. Only I can’t do anything overtly illegal. I can bend rules. Supply you with information. But I can’t be involved in anything that would harm someone like the president. I can’t help you kill someone on my team.”

“Then hopefully it won’t come to that. But there can be no conditions. You either agree, or you don’t. If you don’t, we go on talking about the German, and that ends my involvement. If you agree, you owe me that favor, and I’ll help you get your wife back, hopefully unharmed.”

The choice between two evils put Cruz in an impossible position. Although at heart, it wasn’t. Not really. He had to save Dinah, and if bargaining with the devil was what it took, then he would do so. He had already lost too much. It was an ugly world, and sometimes it called for gutterball tactics.

“Fine. I agree.”

El Rey
offered a wan smile. “I knew you would.”

“Very well. You’re a genius. So what now?”

El Rey
turned and looked at Cruz’s table, the coffee machine sitting proudly to one side, and spotted an array of bottles. “I could use some water.”

Cruz stepped back to the table and grabbed a plastic bottle, then moved to
El Rey
and handed it to him.

“I was thinking more in terms of what the next step would be in our agreement.”

El Rey
twisted the top and took a long, appreciative pull on the water before setting it down in front of him and fixing Cruz with a chilling stare.

“I already know where
El Jaguar
can be found.”

“What? How?” Cruz sputtered, clearly flummoxed by
El Rey
’s revelation.

“I did some checking yesterday. Spent most of my evening on it. I know exactly where he’ll be in about” – he looked at his watch – “six hours, more or less.”

Cruz’s mind raced at the news. It could change everything.

“But you have an ethical dilemma to face. I could tell you where, and you could send in the storm troopers, and hope that he didn’t die fighting, and then further hope that he would tell you what he knew about your wife’s whereabouts – which I think given your track record, you would agree is a long shot. Or, I could
not
tell you, handle the questioning myself, and show up tomorrow morning, or even late tonight, with your wife’s location.”

A subtle smirk tugged at his lips.

“Welcome to your first moral quandary. Do you do this by the book, the legal way, or do I handle it...effectively? Which we both know won’t be anything close to legal.”

“Hypothetically, what would ‘effectively’ entail?”

“You don’t want to know. Or maybe you can imagine. Pretend you don’t have the job you do, and that you would do anything required to get the information you needed, regardless of the consequences.”

“I...maybe you’re right. I don’t want to know.”

“But you do need to make the decision. What’s it going to be?”

“What are the odds he knows anything?” Cruz asked, stalling for time.

“The ranking boss here? What do you think?”

“Stupid question, I guess. But here’s a better one. Why would you do this? Why not just give me the address?”

El Rey
rubbed a hand across his lower face, tiring of the exchange. “Because you’ll blow it. And then when she shows up in pieces, you’ll be useless. So any favor you owe me will be uncollectable. Worthless. So decide. I’m running short of patience.”