David Lindsey - The Rules of Silence

Burden leveled his eyes at Titus. “He wants you to understand, Titus, that he's in total control here. That's what Thrush's death was all about. It was a demonstration of your new reality. He's gone to elaborate lengths to cover all the bases. You turn this over to the FBI after it's over, and you're signing death warrants for a hell of a lot more people. He's told you. I'm telling you.”

Burden ran his hand through his hair. “Keep repeating that to yourself, Titus. You either accept his conditions or more people die. Then ask yourself this question: If I agree to keep it all quiet, to save a lot of lives, am I okay with this guy just disappearing when it's all over… with the money… and having killed one, two, three? four?… of my friends?”

“Just get to the damn point, ”Titus said. By now he had a raging headache, and he was agitated and furious and afraid. But he knew what the point was. He really hadn't thought this through to the hard questions yet. He just wanted to be rid of it all, assuming, in the back of his mind, that in the end, even though he might lose millions of dollars, justice would ultimately be done. As in a movie, the good guys would come in and take care of it.

“The end could get rough, ”Burden said. “I'll take the responsibility for that. But if I do this thing for you, I don't want you coming to me with pangs of conscience when it's looking scarier than you'd imagined it would be. Once I start, I won't stop.”

Titus's heart began racing. It was dark outside. He hadn't had much sleep in the last twenty hours, and the stress he'd been under made the little sleep he'd had feel like none at all.

He moved toward Burden until they were an arm's reach apart.

“Is there some chance I could end up in prison for what's going to happen once you start this?”

Burden stared into Titus's eyes. “None whatsoever.”

“Then the pangs of conscience you're talking about, that has to do with what might happen to Luquin?”

“That's right.”

This time it was Titus who hesitated a moment before he spoke, but when he did, there was no hesitation in his voice.

“Then you don't have anything to worry about. I'm not going to have any pangs of conscience over that.”

They were looking at each other in silence when Mattie entered the study from the balcony, carrying the phones and Titus's laptop.

“It's all ready, ”she said, walking past them and placing everything on the library table.

The two men moved to the table, and Burden picked up one of the cell phones and handed it to Titus.

“Don't ever let this out of your sight, ”he said.“It's encrypted. Mattie will give you the dial codes. It connects you to me, and to Mattie and the others. It's your lifeline.

“The laptop's ready. Mattie will give you encryption codes for this, too. We'll use both the phones and the laptop to communicate.

“For the most part, you just do whatever you have to do to comply with Luquin's demands. Keep in mind, there's going to be some surveillance. There's nothing you can do about it without more retaliation from Luquin, but be aware that it'll be there.”

“How much? What kind?”

“Not a lot. Luquin's people don't want to attract any attention. So they're not going to be swarming. Most of it will be mobile. A van cruising, trying to pick up snippets of cell phone traffic. Maybe some photography. But it'll be very discreet. He's not going to be all over you, but he's going to be watching.

“As of right now, I'm committed to moving as quickly as possible to try to save lives. And that'll save money, too. Remember this: Just because you're not hearing from me doesn't mean I'm not there. There's a hell of a lot to arrange. I won't be getting much sleep. Communicate as often as you want. You won't always get me, but you can always get Mattie. I'll get back with you as soon as it's possible for me to do so.

“Okay, Mattie's going to finish briefing you on communication procedures. I'm going right now to arrange for the pilot. Someone will be here to pick you up within the hour to take you to the airstrip.”

Titus nodded. His mind was already moving so far and so fast ahead that he was almost carrying on two conversations in his head simultaneously. All he could think about was the logistics of getting Rita out of Europe and on her way home.

Luquin paced slowly back and forth along the deck that was perched on the edge of the cliff, one hand in his pocket, smoking his cigarette, the smoke a blue breath drifting away from him into the darkness. Now and then he paused and looked out into the night.

There was nothing much to see in the direction he was looking. Far below the sapphire surface of the wide river twisted through the cobalt darkness, and on the other side the long slope of the rising land ascended to black hills with sparsely scattered lights glinting through the dense woods. Occasionally a light would flicker and stretch out and die, the headlights of a car negotiating the narrow, unlighted lanes that rambled through the thickly wooded hills. The house that held his attention was straight in front of him, a mile and a half away as the crow flies.

“We'll hear from him tomorrow, ”Luquin said. “How many bugs have they taken out?”

“Half a dozen, so far.”

“I told you, ”Luquin sneered, “he is going to be so predictable, arrogant bastard. So fucking confident. Nobody's going to bug his place and get away with it. I wish I could have seen his face when he realized what he had done. ”He shook his head in amusement. “I would have had to find another excuse to kill Thrush if Cain had left the damn bugs in place.” He snorted. “It's going to be a pleasure working this asshole.”

He smoked. “But I can't figure out why we haven't picked him up on any of the bugs that are still in there. We haven't even heard him coughing or pissing or anything.”

“We're picking up the technicians.”

“I know that, Jorge. But we're not picking up Cain. What's he doing?”

“You've scared the shit out of him, Tano, ”Macias said. “He's probably not even breathing in there.”

Jorge Macias was Luquin's Mexican chief of operations. In his mid-thirties, Macias was barrel-chested and handsome in the Latin lover sense of the term. He was self-assured and selfcentered and easy with violence.

When Luquin had business in Mexico or Texas, it was Macias who saw that it ran the way it was supposed to. His teams laid the groundwork. His teams ran the intelligence. His teams provided the brutality when brutality was required. (It was Macias's people who had smuggled Luquin across the border in the top of Benny Chalmers's truck.) And from years of experience, he had become deft at passing down the bad news to the lower ranks. If they made blunders, he gave them one chance to rectify their mistakes. Another failure, and they disappeared. Others took their place with the full knowledge of what had happened to the men before them. Predecessors’mistakes were never repeated. There were no exceptions.

“What about the guys sweeping the house? ”Luquin asked.

“Just technicians. Our guy on the ground hasn't picked up any guns. Cain has a very high quality security system at CaiText, and he probably knew these guys through those connections. He runs a very tight operation. It looks like routine sweeping, just what we anticipated. Nothing more than that.”

“And you think these are the guys he called from the pay phone.”

“Probably. He couldn't stand it. Wanted to do something about it as fast as he could.”

Luquin planted his feet firmly apart, drew slowly on his cigarette, and stared across the night river. A boat moved steadily over the water, going away from the city. Its lights reflected off the sapphire, and the sound of its engine grumbled off the sides of the cliffs.