Russell Blake - Night of the Assassin

Valiente was one of the main rivals to Altamar’s iron hold on his empire, and it was well known that he hated the man, furious over some close family members who had been killed by Altamar’s goons when the power struggle over Don Miguel’s holdings was underway. In the interests of prosperity they’d made their fragile pact, but Valiente held a grudge, and he was a dangerous and powerful warlord in his own right.

The young man had approached him through a street-level enforcer that morning and requested a meeting. He claimed to have something of tremendous value to offer Valiente, which had naturally piqued his interest – Valiente was a man best avoided so he wasn’t accustomed to being solicited for anything. Three security men had frisked the young man upon his arrival, verifying that he had no weapons and wasn’t wearing a wire before allowing him anywhere near Valiente’s office; so there could be no trickery or immediate physical threat – always a concern in the cartel game, where you could routinely expect attempts on your life on virtually any pretense.

Valiente leaned forward in his reclining chair as the young man entered and sat at his desk, a stern, armed enforcer bracketing him on either side, ever mindful of the slightest wrong move.

“So, you want a meeting. Here it is. Tell me what it is you have that’s of such value to me,” Valiente started, sipping his coffee while appraising the young man’s face.

“I’m an ex-marine. I want to begin a career as a specialist in contract executions for your cartel. I’ve been trained in every sort of weapons and demolition, and I have a year’s worth of combat experience with over thirty-six confirmed kills,” the young man began.

“That’s interesting, but it’s not of that much value to me. Don’t get me wrong, I can always use good men, but there’s a difference between coming looking for a job, and bringing me something of value,” Valiente observed.

“I know. And I’m not looking for a job. I’m offering my services as a contractor. And what I have to offer you, I believe, is significant. As a good faith token, take a look at this. It was taken seven hours ago.” He removed the small digital camera from his pants pocket, powered it on and thumbed through the photos until he reached the desired one. He handed the device to Valiente.

Valiente peered at the screen and blinked, and then his eyes narrowed to slits.

“Both of you. Get out,” he instructed his bodyguards. The two hulking men exchanged glances, and then with distrustful glares at the new arrival, obediently left the room.

“I could have you killed for this, and Altamar would reward me with anything I wanted.”

“No. He wouldn’t. He can’t give you what you really want. Only I can. Today. Because you don’t want to live in his shadow forever, and I have the ability to make him disappear, now, and never give you any more problems. You and you alone would know he was gone, enabling you to consolidate power and take steps ahead of any of your competitors, ensuring that you’d replace him. Here’s what I propose. You pay me three hundred thousand dollars and he disappears effective immediately.” Valiente’s eyes tracked the young man’s unblinking gaze as he spoke. “You pay me two hundred thousand dollars each for as many of your rivals you want dispatched within the next seventy-two hours, and I’ll make it so. It’s a guarantee that you will take over Altamar’s business at that point, which will make you that amount of money in a matter of hours. I have him right now, so you haven’t attempted anything. I have. So you have nothing to lose and everything to gain.” The young man had spoken in a calm, soft voice, with measured inflection, laying out the options in a methodical manner.

Valiente leaned into his plush chair and considered the proposition while eying the young man. He weighed the options and then rose.

“If you can do this, we have a deal. What payment do you propose?”

“The three hundred I want now, and before the day’s end I will bring you a photo of your enemy dead. The others, half up front, half upon successful completion. It’s actually a bargain, but I’m anxious to make a name for myself and earn your support,” the young man said.

Valiente nodded. It was indeed a bargain. They both knew it. He was being handed the keys to the kingdom for a song.

“I have to say, this comes as a complete surprise. If you can pull this off, you’ll be very, very busy carrying out jobs for me.” Valiente stared into his empty cup. “And what is your name? What shall I call you, my young mystery killer?”

The young man didn’t hesitate. He’d already decided on his professional moniker. He would be named after the cursed card that had ruined his life, and had freed him at the same time.

“ El Rey. After the tarot card, the King of Swords. You can call me El Rey.”

Later that evening, after catching a few hours of sleep, El Rey returned to Valiente with the photo of Altamar after the acid facial scrub, having collected his fee before departing the office earlier in the day. The cartel boss was both fascinated and repelled by the ‘after’ image of Altamar – and this was a man who saw death on an almost daily basis.

“Jesus fucking Christ. What did you do to him?” Valiente exclaimed.

El Rey shrugged. “Acid.”

“Fuck, kid. You’re one sick bastard, I’ll grant you that. I never want to piss you off,” Valiente admitted.

“I figured you’d want something that would make a statement. You can download the photo or I can e-mail it to you for circulation purposes if anyone ever decides to test your power. I imagine it would deliver a considerable deterrent value.” El Rey grinned humorlessly as he spoke.

“This will stop anyone that doesn’t have a death wish in their tracks.” Valiente slid a folder to him, along with a black garbage bag. “I have two primary rivals I need executed in the next two days. Their details are in the folder. Half the money for the first contract is in the sack. Come back when you’ve done the first one and I’ll pay you the balance and give you a payment for the second contract. But I need this handled quickly, because once they get wise to Altamar being missing for any significant period of time they’ll be coming for me.”

“Then I better get going. I could use some help locating a few things for these jobs, though. I figure you’d know where to find these.” He handed Valiente a short list. “The sooner I can get them, the sooner I can fulfill these contracts.”

Valiente studied the short list.

“The M-4 is no problem. We’ve got a bunch of those. Don’t know if any have a night scope on them, though. Let me make a call. The Remington we also have, or can get within a few hours. Same for the Glock with a silencer. Pretty standard issue, that. Although it may not be 9 mm. If we have to go. 45 caliber, will that do?” Valiente looked up from the list and El Rey nodded assent. “Lot of the marines bring those Remington 700s with them – they love their sniper rifles. I see you’re okay with the. 308. That will make it easy. Oh, and plastique and grenades? How messy do you plan to make this? I don’t want to be associated with public bloodbaths in crowds. You need to be surgical.”

“I intend to be as discreet as possible, but it’s better to be prepared, than not. I will get busy on the first contract while you source that gear. How can I contact you at night? I’ll want to pick up the weapons as soon as you have them.”

Valiente scribbled a cell number on the back of a card.

“Call me in two hours and we’ll arrange a drop-off. Don’t worry about the cost; they’re on me. I’m presuming you’ll want, what, five hundred rounds for the M-4 and maybe fifty for the Remington and the Glock?” Valiente confirmed.