Russell Blake - Revenge of the Assassin

Her eyes popped back open. “Me? Why go after me? I don’t really have anything. I’m a schoolteacher…”

Which wasn’t entirely true. She’d inherited some money from her father, but she was hardly wealthy. Kidnappers usually went after the relatives of rich business people or politicians — people who could come up with hundreds of thousands, or millions of dollars, at short notice. Although there was a troubling trend of gangs snatching random well-dressed targets in the hopes of extracting tens of thousands for a day’s work, or keeping their abductees in a car trunk for a week while they forced them to extract cash from their ATM on a daily basis.

“And, Lieutenant, they were shooting at her. That’s fairly rare,” Cruz stressed.

“True. That actually smacks of amateur. Someone who hasn’t thought through the situation and gets spooked. Maybe when she hit the man’s partner in the face with the pepper spray it infuriated the man with the gun. Maybe he’s just a nutcase. It doesn’t make a lot of sense to attempt to kidnap someone and then try to gun them down. You either want them alive for ransom, or you want to kill them. They could have just shot Dinah by the van if that had been their intent. They didn’t. So this seems more like improvisation than anything, which, to me, says they weren’t organized,” Briones countered.

“There’s no way of knowing, unfortunately. I’m going to assign a patrol to trail you for the next week. Just in case,” Cruz said to Dinah. “It’s one of the perks of being high in the Federales , I hear.”

“Oh, honey, really, I don’t think that’s necessary,” Dinah protested weakly.

“Probably not, but I’ll feel better for it. So humor me.”

“How long am I going to have to lie here?” Dinah asked.

“They said twenty-four to forty-eight hours. You lost a lot of blood,” Cruz told her.

They continued speculating about the assault, but Dinah quickly tired. The ordeal had taken a lot out of her, and Cruz gestured with his head to Briones to get the door. He said his goodbyes, and once outside the room, walked slowly with Briones to the elevator.

“Does anyone know about Dinah and I besides you, and the other few people at work? Do you think she’s being targeted because of me?” Cruz asked.

“I haven’t told anyone, and I can’t see the others doing so. Your dating life isn’t a big topic on the job, frankly. I think that’s a longshot. More likely is that she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and the shooter is a nutjob, or lost his cool. We’ve all seen enough of these where they kill the victim whether or not the ransom is paid. The line of work appeals to psychos. That’s the likeliest.”

“I still want a patrol car on Dinah, and a guard at the hospital. I agree that the likelihood of the attack being specific to her is probably extremely slim, but I’ll feel better with an officer here. Maybe just having one on the floor would be enough. Please arrange for one round the clock,” Cruz ordered.

Briones complied and was finishing the call by the time the elevator arrived at their floor.

Don Aranas stormed around the massive great room of his home in Guatemala City, gesticulating as he reacted to the voice on the phone.

“What the hell are you telling me? You not only missed snatching her, but shot up a school? You couldn’t have been more subtle? Maybe stormed into her classroom with machine guns, screaming my name?” He stopped pacing, listening to the explanation. “Don’t you get it? There’s no way to make this work now. We have nothing. Take the shooter out and dispose of him. Better yet, take the whole team out and dispose of them.”

He entertained another few seconds of discussion before cutting in.

“Fine. Then let the driver live. I don’t really care. But the two in charge of making this happen? I want them gone by lunchtime.”

He stabbed the phone off and slammed it down on the coffee table. A young, beautiful brunette woman knocked on the door, worried about disturbing him. He looked up at her, framed by the late morning light so that her sheer robe was translucent, and waved her away. He needed to think. Pouting, she spun professionally on her six inch heels and sashayed back down the hall, long coffee-colored legs gliding as though on precision bearings.

Aranas plopped down in an overstuffed chair and fumed for several minutes before flipping open an elaborately-carved tabletop humidor and selecting a Cohiba cigar, rolling it between his fingers near his ear approvingly before snipping the end off with a cutter and lighting it. He puffed at it distractedly as he considered his options. What should have been an easy snatch had gone horribly wrong, which meant that he wouldn’t get another chance.

He picked up the phone and selected a number from the contacts.

El Rey answered on the third ring.

“Yes?”

“Are you someplace you can talk?” Aranas asked.

“Always.”

“There’s a complication. I’ve gotten some disturbing news about a task force I need to share with you,” Aranas began, and then tersely described the situation, complaining about that morning’s bungled attempt on Dinah.

El Rey took it all in silently. “Nothing has changed,” he finally responded.

“I’m glad you’re so confident. They apparently got wind of the plan. I would have thought that would give you pause.”

“I have always acted as though all facts were known. It changes nothing. The outcome will be the same. That’s what you’re paying for.” El Rey hesitated. “Although I have need of an item or two that will require the greatest discretion and will no doubt be expensive.”

Aranas’ eyebrows rose when he heard the request.

“You’re fucking kidding me. I mean, I’m sure I can get it, but in my experience it’s not that easy. They tend to keep track of it,” the kingpin warned.

“I will need it within a week.”

“You still think you can pull this off?”

“Without a doubt. But tell me more about the girl. Have you received any news on where she is now?” El Rey asked.

Aranas was surprised. “Are you really interested? I can probably find out in seconds. But that opportunity is over. My men blew it,” Aranas admitted bitterly.

“Perhaps. But it would be helpful to me if you could make enquiries. I have an idea.”

Aranas called back after twenty minutes and gave him the information. Three hours later, El Rey left the apartment he was renting and took the elevator down to the parking garage, toting a brown paper grocery bag in his left hand. He made two stops in downtown Mexico City before proceeding to his ultimate destination, humming to himself. Out of every disaster came opportunity, if one knew how to adapt. This was a perfect example. Now he just needed to be patient, and perhaps he’d convert a negative into an opportunity.

The Federal Police officer sat at the far end of the hall, studying the nurses moving around the ward with approval. Some duty was desirable, some not. Watching the floor for threats to Dinah was definitely a plum position, even if some of the staff seemed perturbed by him being there. He’d originally sat in the corridor right by the room, but it wasn’t wide enough to accommodate him as well as the gurneys and carts, and they’d made a position for him at the nurse’s station, forty-five yards away. Over time, some of the cuter, younger nurses had warmed up to him, and by his third hour they were stopping in regularly to chat, there being not much else to do. Unlike intensive care, this was a quiet floor, at least by large hospital standards. A steady hum of physicians and staff buzzed around, doing whatever it was they did, and an occasional patient rolled by.