Blood of the Assassin - By Russell Blake Page 0,50
felt a twinge of embarrassment at having a federal policeman in full regalia chauffeuring him, as he always did when he was in public places, and then dismissed the sentiment, choosing instead to focus on some of his very real problems.
El Rey was an enigma, but Cruz had to concede that perhaps CISEN had made a good call bringing him into the case. Cruz had developed a grudging respect for his approach as he had run through his mental list and issued tersely worded suggestions for Cruz to convey to the appropriate parties. No, truthfully, they had been instructions, not suggestions. Matter-of-fact and completely dispassionate, but orders nonetheless. The young man was definitely among the most arrogant Cruz had ever met, but it was more than that – his sense of assurance, the conviction that he was completely right, wasn’t puffery. He was, in fact, right, about everything they’d discussed. He radiated a quiet confidence that was unnerving, and Cruz had found himself, by the end of their promenade, glad El Rey was on his side.
Not that Cruz was any slouch himself. But event security wasn’t his forte – the truth was that if he hadn’t gotten involved in the original assassination attempt in Cabo, he wouldn’t have been dragged into the next one, and now this train wreck. That was how bureaucracies worked – you became an acknowledged expert in something even if the totality of your contribution was simply showing up enough times. Like it or not, Cruz had become the El Rey expert, and since his capture, obviously had been bumped up the hierarchy to the de facto resident assassination authority in general. A position he felt completely unqualified for – he was a career cop who specialized in the drug cartels that were tearing the nation apart, not a super-sleuth who could stop contract killers cold. But no matter. He had the title now, whether he liked it or not, which had resulted in him being blackmailed into running this show. Any protestations that he was unqualified to do so would just be met with smiles, the clueless wonks who made the decisions mistaking his legitimate protests for humility.
As they wove their way through the still-dense traffic, Cruz’s thoughts turned to Dinah and the fight that his revelation had precipitated. She was usually logical, but he could understand what a shock El Rey’s re-emergence in their life was, and he knew it would take some time for her to adjust and realize that he really had no choice. Much as he might have wanted to give the power structure the middle finger and walk away from it all, it wasn’t practical. Perhaps in the old days, ten years younger, he might have thrown caution to the wind and refused the assignment; but now, as he aged, he had developed what might have passed for budding wisdom.
That all of it was unfair was a given. And while the threat of withholding his pension had crossed important lines that might have stoked his moral outrage, it hadn’t completely surprised him. He was a leaf on a stream, and when the men who ran the country wanted something from him, they would use whatever means they needed to in order to force him into compliance. It was a valuable lesson he would remember and use in the future – assuming he was successful. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t need any bargaining chips. He would be the man who had allowed the unthinkable to happen on his watch. A man with a suddenly terminated career.
He dug his phone out one last time and called home, but just got ringing that went to voicemail. Same as all day. He next called Dinah’s cell, but met the same response. He punched the call off and shook his head. This was worse than he thought. She’d never gone completely dark on him before. Maybe he’d underestimated how upset she was. He tried to put himself into her shoes – father killed by El Rey, blackmailed and forced to betray Cruz by El Rey, watching everything she valued almost destroyed by El Rey...
The security gate of the condo’s underground parking entrance slid open, the motor straining to shift the iron barrier, and Cruz rehearsed what he was going to say to her. A plea for consideration. An assurance that it would all be over in a few more days. Perhaps even a promise to quit the force after it was finished and pursue the