Russell Blake - Revenge of the Assassin

“Come here, my angel, and let’s talk about the where’s and how’s of this. It’s an important event, and I want to make sure it’s perfect. As long as you show up, I’ll be happy, so tell me what you’re thinking and I’ll do whatever I can to make it so.”

He patted the area next to him on the sofa and admired Dinah as she rounded the kitchen island and came to him, a vision of beauty in his otherwise bleak and brutal world.

Cruz strode through the doors of the CISEN headquarters, recalling the last time he’d been there. That meeting had been disastrous, with the heads of the Mexican intelligence service alternating between treating him like a slow child and laughing him out of the room, after he’d warned them that El Rey was targeting the American and Mexican presidents at a high-profile international financial summit.

Since then circumstances had changed because Cruz had been proved correct in his warnings. That had resulted in CISEN looking like incompetents, or worse, and in the wake of the event, Cruz’s power and standing had markedly increased at the expense of CISEN, whose supposedly superior information-gathering apparatus had botched it. Missing the most serious assassination attempt in the nation’s history would have been bad enough, but having been given clear notice by a ranking Federal Police captain in charge of the Mexico City cartel task force, and then ignoring it, had ended several careers. To say that bad blood still existed between Cruz and CISEN was an understatement.

Cruz was puzzled as to why he’d been summoned. None of his current operations or investigations were in an area where CISEN, Mexico’s equivalent of the CIA and NSA, had any interest that he knew of.

Surprisingly, he was only kept waiting ten minutes before being shown into a conference room, where he was greeted by three high-level officials — none of whom he’d ever seen before, which wasn’t surprising given that those he had met with on prior occasions were the same ones that had ignored his warnings about the assassination attempt.

A well-groomed man in his mid-forties, tall, with gleaming black hair and a trimmed goatee, stood and made introductions. Cruz noted the expensive cut of his navy blue suit and calculated that it probably cost a small fortune. He was Renaldo Rodriguez, the new associate director of CISEN, and the other two men were simply Stefan and Hector. By the looks of them, Cruz doubted those were their real names. No matter — he was now genuinely curious as to the meeting’s purpose.

Rodriguez sat back and smiled, motioning to a thermos and cups on the table.

“Coffee, Capitan ? It’s some of the best Mexico has to offer.”

“I’m sure it is. No, thank you. I’m fine,” Cruz said politely.

Rodriguez shrugged, as if to say ‘you don’t know what you’re missing’, and poured himself a steaming cup. He didn’t offer the other two any, and they didn’t seem surprised.

“To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?” Cruz began.

“You have developed quite a reputation over the last year as the ‘go to’ guy on anything related to the assassin, El Rey . I understand the task force specializing in catching him has been disbanded, correct? With its responsibilities transferred to you?” Rodriguez asked, obviously already sure of the answer.

“That’s right. After three years of non-performance, the decision was made to shut them down and the resources shifted to my group,” Cruz confirmed.

“And how is that going? Anything you can share with us?”

“The man seems to have disappeared after the event in Baja.” Cruz didn’t need to belabor what event he was referring to, given that it had caused a seismic shift within CISEN. “There hasn’t been a hint of activity in almost a year now. We believe he’s gone underground, and likely quit the game. Why?”

Rodriguez slid a folder across the desk to him, gesturing at it with his head. Cruz opened it and studied the brief report inside, then the photographs of the tarot card amidst the rocket launchers. He slowly looked up from the file.

“This was a few days ago. Why wasn’t I notified?” he demanded.

“The army came across the card following the complete destruction of a house outside Ciudad Juarez from a rocket attack. The cartel chieftain Chacho Morenos was in the house. The army brought us the information, unsure of how to treat it. As soon as we got it, we called you.”

Cruz regarded Rodriguez, sensing there was more.

“We also have picked up some disturbing news. There is an unconfirmed rumor from one of our assets that El Rey is back on the scene because he plans to assassinate the president,” Rodriguez stated.

“Unconfirmed rumor? From where? I need more specifics than an unconfirmed rumor . You know that,” Cruz admonished him.

‘Hector’ leaned forward. “ Capitan Cruz, the asset in question is involved with the affairs of a group you’re more than familiar with. The Sinaloa cartel. For his ongoing safety we have to keep the asset’s identity confidential, even from you. But I can say that he is well placed in that organization, and we consider his intel to be of the highest quality,” he said officiously.

“Can someone tell me why CISEN is involved with the Sinaloa cartel? Perhaps we can start there. I’m especially interested since I’m the head of the task force chartered with dealing with the cartels, and this is the first I’ve heard about any involvement,” Cruz demanded.

Rodriguez shrugged again. “As you know, we have operations and investigations that are international in scope. This came about as a tangent to one of those operations. It’s wholly unconnected to your efforts involving the cartels. I can’t say anything more — it’s classified. The important thing is that we’re here, at this table, sharing intelligence about a suspected plot to assassinate the president, to be carried out by the man you are purported to be the expert on.”

It came to Cruz in a flash. This was turnaround. Revenge for causing the disastrous reorganization in CISEN. They were saddling Cruz with a formal report of a plot to kill the president, exactly as he had done with them. If it turned out to be true, and he was unsuccessful at stopping it, Cruz would be in the crosshairs as having neglected his duty, not CISEN. It was perfect. Provide virtually no evidence other than a rumor, refuse to corroborate it due to national security concerns, then pass the whole pile off to Cruz, noting scrupulously that he, and only he, was responsible for following up. Cruz had survived countless bureaucratic battles, and he understood instinctively what was being done, as well as why.

Payback.

“I will need everything you have on this. If it’s classified, I will need to get an appropriate clearance. I can’t operate without all the information, so whatever needs to be done, let’s do it.”

Rodriguez shook his head. “I’m afraid it isn’t that simple, Capitan Cruz. We can’t hand out top secret clearances to just anyone — not that you are just anyone, or in any way suspect. It’s just that our procedure is-”

“I don’t care what your procedure is. You invented it, so you can make an exception to it. If you don’t feel like doing that, I can just go directly to the president and have him instruct you to do so. Either way, to protect him, I need all the information, so we can do this the civil way, or the adversarial way.” Cruz paused. “Considering CISEN’s performance on the last presidential assassination attempt, I would have thought that you would have figured as much by now. But it’s immaterial to me how we get it done. I’ve told you what I need.”