Don Pendleton: Chicago Vendetta

“Since you don’t know the other two, we’ll deal with them,” Madera said. “But we’re going to rely on you to take out Hillman and Rusch.”

Esparza took a long pull of his drink before lighting a cigarette. “Not going to happen. I told you going into this that I won’t kill any cops. We had a deal.”

“My associate is altering the deal,” Madera said dangerously.

“Over my dead body.”

“That’s always an option,” another voice said, the cultured tone echoing through the high ceilings of Madera’s vast office.

From the shadows emerged a tall, thin man with dark hair flecked by white at the temples. Impeccably attired, he moved confidently. Authoritatively. Some of that was probably due to the four men who surrounded him with the practiced ease of high-priced security. The newcomer’s dark eyes bore a wicked glint, and the sunken flesh around his cheeks and chin made his cheekbones seem prominent. As the man drew closer, Esparza noticed a long, thin scar that arched over his left eyebrow and traced an irregular pattern until it dipped out of sight beneath the very angular left jaw.

The net result left Esparza with the sense he’d looked into the partially decomposed skull of a mummy.

“Mr. Esparza,” the man continued. “In addition to the considerable sum of money I’ve paid you, and the extra tangible benefits you’ve enjoyed at my sole expense, there is your family to consider. For example, your lovely sister remains under my full protection, but that can change.”

Esparza stood defiantly. “It would be unwise to threaten my family.”

“Sit down !” Madera commanded.

Esparza looked at the drug kingpin a long time before taking his seat.

The gaunt man presented a withering smile. “My reference to your sister is not intended as a threat. Rather a reminder that I’m the provider of your rather lavish lifestyle. It would take only a single phone call to certain persons within your department for all your perks to come crashing down around your ears.”

He took a seat in front of Esparza, and this second smile bore more cruelty than the first. “Now that was a fucking threat, Mr. Esparza. You see, if you’re not for me any longer, then you are against me. And I’m not a person you’d want for an enemy, believe me.”

“I don’t even know your name, friend. How could I be any threat to you?”

“Fair enough. My name is Shalib Grec and I can be, to coin an old Americanism, either your best friend or your worst nightmare.”

“What do you want?” Esparza asked after a beat.

“Much better. I want you to find Hillman and Rusch and kill them. Simple. Just kill them. You’ve killed people before.”

“I’ve killed scum.” Esparza let his eyes flick toward Madera ever so imperceptibly. Or so he thought.

“Careful, Mr. Esparza.” Grec waved casually at the drug dealer. “Mr. Madera is a valued associate, and I would not take kindly to anyone who had an issue with him. It’s probably no secret that I hate your kind.”

“You mean cops.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. But you’ve proven a useful ally in my war on the police in this city. When I’ve achieved my final objectives, I will leave here and you will neither hear from nor see me again. And the bonus is I’ll let you live to a ripe old age.”

“What guarantee do I have of that?”

“Have I given you any reason to doubt my word so far?” Grec asked, arching an eyebrow and wrinkling the scar. “I’m a businessman, Mr. Esparza, plain and simply. I’m not interested in killing you, because you are insignificant. And because Mr. Madera has told me you may be of additional use to him. So you see, we have a deal. You do as you are told, and when our mutual business is concluded, I let you live.”

Esparza downed the remainder of his drink and looked at Madera, who nodded.

“It’s true,” the drug dealer said.

Esparza looked at the video still paused on the faces of two cops he’d known for years and had, until just that moment, considered friends. “Hillman will be easy. I can find out what hospital he’s in. Rusch may be more difficult as I need to get her alone. Isolated.”

Grec stood as he replied, “I will leave the details to you. I don’t care how you do it, or where. Just that it’s done.”

“It’ll be done by tomorrow night,” Esparza replied.

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