Russell Blake - Revenge of the Assassin

Around dinner time, a doctor in a white coat moved from room to room, and the officer became alert as he approached the woman’s room. One of the nurses assured him that the physician was fine — he checked on the patients every four to six hours, marking off the forms affixed to clipboards outside every room. Satisfied that he had done his duty, the policeman relaxed again and took up his discussion with Yvette, a pretty petite twenty-four year old from Veracruz.

After another few hours the lights on the floor dimmed, and the ward moved into evening rhythm, with dinner gliding down the passageways on rolling carts. The officer was able to convince one of the orderlies to have the kitchen prepare him a meal, and he was ravenous by the time the tray made it to his position. He dug into the chicken enchiladas with gusto and was done within a few minutes, smacking his lips with satisfaction.

Two hours later he began to experience severe abdominal cramping, and he sprinted for the restroom at the far end of the ward, barely able to keep from vomiting.

A maintenance man moved steadily down the hall, checking the air-conditioning grids with a laser thermometer. He smiled to himself as he watched the guard rush to the facilities and reasoned that he’d be occupied on and off for the rest of the evening. A little Visine in the man’s drink and mixed in with the enchilada sauce had worked miracles — he’d be cramping and vomiting for hours.

He hummed as he verified the temperature of the air coming out of the duct and stopped into every room to ensure there were no anomalies. When he reached the woman’s room, he checked the hallway and verified that the guard had departed once again for the comfort of the restroom before slipping through the door, closing it behind him.

Dinah looked up from the magazine she was reading and then returned to it when the man apologized and checked the airflow. It was only after a few seconds that something caused her to look up — he was standing closer, smiling at her, but with an expression that chilled her blood. He had a beard that obscured most of his lower face, but his eyes were disturbing. The first impression that came to mind was that they were dead.

She saw a flicker of something cross his expression, and he seemed to hesitate, and then spoke.

“Dinah. We don’t have much time, so I’m going to make this short. I am known as El Rey . I am an assassin. The reason I’m here is because I need your help. If you scream or sound any kind of an alarm, you’ll be dead within seconds. If you know of me, you know I’m not exaggerating,” he said in a reasonable, calm voice.

Her hand crept under the sheet to the nurse call button as she absorbed his statement.

“I thought I just told you that you’ll be dead if you do anything foolish. Calling the nurse would qualify. Now if you want to continue breathing, put both your hands where I can see them and listen carefully to me. I have a proposition for you,” El Rey cautioned.

She froze and then slid her hand where he could see it. The other still clutched the magazine, gripping it automatically.

“Wha…what do you want?” she blurted.

“I want you to live. I want you and your boyfriend — no, fiance — Capitan Cruz, to have a long and healthy life. I want you to be married and happy and have newborn babies you love and care for. All of which I can help you with.”

“I…I don’t understand…”

“I know you live with Cruz. He is running a task force that is devoted to my deeds. I need you to pass me any and all information you can get — and it’d better be good. I’ll know if you’re working with him, or if you’re holding out on me. Trust me on that — just as I knew what room you were in. And there is nowhere you will be safe if you fuck with me.”

“I…there’s no way I can do that. I can’t betray him, and we don’t discuss business.” Dinah sounded stronger now. Defiant.

“Start.” He studied her. “You seem very brave, so I can imagine that you don’t fear that much for yourself. I mean, I will kill you as well, but before I do, your lover will die an agonizing death. I will make sure of it. I trust you know my reputation. I don’t threaten, and I don’t bluff. If you want Cruz to live, and not be tortured in the most horrible manner you can imagine, you’ll do as I ask. If you don’t, he’ll die, and so will you. It’s a simple proposal, really. Oh, and if you’re thinking that he can protect himself, and you, consider the long list of extremely rich and powerful men who were wrong about their ability to be protected from me. It’s not an option.”

Dinah shook her head in anguished conflict. She couldn’t.

“I know you’re thinking that you can’t do this, that it’s wrong, and that some things are more important than remaining alive. But I can assure you that you’re mistaken. I’m in the death business, and I can promise you that when you’ve seen as many die as I have, you realize that nothing is more important than what remains of your life.” He seemed to grow impatient. “It’s a choice of either ensuring your man lives, or dies. You get to decide that. Do you kill him with your pride, your arrogant vanity, or do you do what you must so he can live. That is the true test of love. I hope you make the right decision — if you don’t help me, it won’t change anything, except for you, and him. I’ll still do what I do, the world will still turn, but he’ll have been maimed and tortured before drowning in his own blood, as will you.” He allowed that to sink in. “But that doesn’t have to be the future. So decide, Dinah. Choose wisely.”

She followed his words and saw the truth in his eyes. He wasn’t threatening. He meant every word, and it wouldn’t bother him in the least to snuff their lives out.

It was an impossible choice.

He raised his eyebrows.

“You have five seconds, and then I make the decision for you.” He smiled. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Dinah,” he said and reached into his pocket.

“Wait. What…how do I know I can trust you?”

“Dinah, every day that you breathe from this moment on will be because I have kept my word to you. Every breath will be proof of my trust. And most importantly, nobody is paying me to kill you. This is merely a means to an end — a way to make my life easier. As I said, I’ll still do my job, but it would be better for me if I knew what your boyfriend was up to. And I can guarantee that nobody else tries to kidnap you. If you’re helping me, however reluctantly, they don’t need to kidnap you to get his cooperation. This is a win-win, Dinah. You get what you want — a life with Cruz — he gets what he wants — life with you — and I get what I want. Everybody wins.”

Her face collapsed, and her shoulders hunched in humiliated resignation. She’d chosen. Now she would need to live with herself.

“How do I contact you?”

El Rey exited the room and walked to the next air-conditioning vent, dutifully measuring the temperature. The guard took no notice of him, being otherwise occupied trying to contend with his cramps, and within thirty seconds the maintenance man had finished his duties and moved through the doors to the emergency stairs.

El Rey was a little shaken by the similarity between Dinah and his first and only love, Jasmine. They could have been twins, separated at birth. It was uncanny. He’d never seen anything like it. She was older, maybe four or five years, but still — the resemblance was more than striking.

Perhaps it was some sort of an omen? Not that he believed in such things, but the odds against two people looking so…exact…were astronomical. If there were a deeper meaning, what could it be? Was he meant to meet her for some reason?