Page 31 of The Perfect Stranger

I turned and made to leave before he stopped me.

“You’re not coming back are you?” His confusion faded, realization dawning. “This vendetta isn’t something you should lose your career over.”

“Yet, we allow others to make a career out of killing hundreds of people? I don’t want that on my conscience.”

In a few days there will be a warrant out for my arrest. A week after that there would be a bounty on my head for a price not many could resist. My clean record would be replaced, naming me as an armed and dangerous felon. My position in Special Forces was finished. The agency that once considered me an asset would now see me as a danger to their frontline with the new connections I was going to make.

My name, Antonio Suárez, was as good as dead.

“Mphh yghr mhr…”

My grin met his desperate eyes and muffled pleas when I opened the trunk.

Gregorio’s face was covered in beads of sweat, clothes saturated, tape still covering his mouth. The rancid stench of stale urine wafted in the breeze. He squinted against the bright sun that sat on the perfect angle to greet him.

“It’s your lucky day,” I began. “Only three more hours in here.” He shook his head, hysterically, pleading for me not to trap him again in the trunk acting as a sauna in the heat. His pleas were near mute when I closed the lid and climbed into the driver’s seat.

Staring at the long road ahead, I contemplated my decision. The idea of not coming out of this didn’t scare me in the slightest. The idea of allowing the Santos men to do this again terrified me.

By the time I pulled down the street from my target location I was almost certain Gregorio had told the truth about where to find Gabriel Santos. Black SUV’s lined the side street of the otherwise derelict neighborhood. The sun was well and truly down, and a mix between Spanish and Arabian music drifted from the building. Unlocking the trunk, I witnessed a less than energetic Gregorio. The heat and dehydration had worked its magic putting him in the delirious state I needed. He was pale, eyes rolling back in their sockets.

The plan was shaping up nicely. But it was volatile. The environment I was entering was an unpredictable and explosive one. The next stage would be all smoke and mirrors, a performance that would soon have me working for South America’s leading drug cartel.

I felt their glares before I even crossed the road. I dragged Gregorio along with me until we reached the brothel where two machine guns were poised to shoot. It was the welcoming I expected.

“What the fuck is this?” the bald one asked.

I met his stare head on. “A gift for Gabriel Santos.”

Dubious, they studied Gregorio who was now hooded and drunkenly swaying. To ensure he remained in his stupor, I had blocked his nose and poured a bottle of rum down his throat.

“He’s not seeing anyone,” the other announced. He sported a rat-tail and had a gold canine tooth. “He’s… busy,” he added, a childish smirk lighting both their faces.

“You’re right. I should wait to hand over this sack of shit. I’m sure Santos wouldn’t at all be interested in knowing who his almost killer was.”

Baldy nodded toward Gregorio who was now making a strange gurgling sound. “He tried to kill Santos?”

“Tried. Yes. You two also would have been amongst the tally. You were headed back to La Balsa in two days were you not?”

“Yes,” rat-tail replied, confused.

“And they’re your SUV’s?”

“Yes.”

“I suggest you do a bomb sweep before you start the next leg of the journey. He…” I pointed to Gregorio, “…has men all over the place performing his dirty work.” They visibly stiffened, my suggestion of a potential threat having the desired effect. “So if you don’t mind?”

Co-operating, they stepped to the side, their deathly stares on the man they’d like to personally cut.

The door opened, and I was greeted by a heavily made up, yet strikingly beautiful hostess. Her seductive smile momentarily faltered when she caught sight of my hooded prisoner. Nervously, she licked her lips, no doubt fearing how the rest of her shift was going to play out.

“Beaunos noches, señor.”

“Senorita, donde eta Gabriel Santos?”

“Gabriel Santos?” Her face drained of color.

“Si, take me to him.”

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