Ghost Sniper

75

Hector Ruvalcaba moved through his fortified home like an angry tiger. With Lazaro Serrano dead, he was entirely vulnerable and without protection from the federal government. Within ten days, his detractors would discern this vulnerability, and he would once again become a fugitive from justice. Even Captain Espinosa was dead. There were other police officials he could bribe, as well as those in government, but with earthquake relief occupying everyone’s efforts, there was no time to meet with them; no way to arrange for protection.

The Policia Federal Ministerial would soon begin formulating plans to take him back into custody and return him to that pigsty of a prison. Were it not for his great wealth hidden in bank accounts offshore, his own people would be abandoning him already. Now he would be forced to live on the move, fighting a running drug war with that dog Antonio Castañeda in the North.

Life, business, and freedom were about to become a great deal more expensive.

Ruvalcaba’s wife found him in the study, gathering documents into a briefcase. She was twenty years younger than him, with short-cropped dark hair. Although pretty at a distance, upon close examination, it was easy to see that at forty-five she had already undergone a good deal of plastic surgery. Her breasts, ass, lips, and nose were not exactly original equipment.

“Is it really necessary for us to leave today, Hector? We’re supposed to have dinner with the—”

“Dinner?!” He looked at her dismay. “There are no more dinners, Victoria. We’re fugitives. Our protection is gone.”

“Well…” She stood with her hands on her hips, refusing to accept that the high-society life to which she had grown accustomed over the past thirteen months was finished. “There’s still plenty of money. Just pay someone else.”

He shut the briefcase and stared at her. “Pay who?”

“I don’t know… somebody!”

“I have to cultivate contacts, arrange for negotiations. Those things take time, and right now there is no time. Once I’m in custody, that’s it.”

“You worked it out last time. They even dug you a tunnel.”

He came from around the desk, taking her by the arms. “Serrano was one of the most powerful men in Mexico. Do you think anyone can arrange for a tunnel?” He shook his head and grabbed a computer from another table. “You should pack a couple of bags. We’re leaving soon.”

She started at him. “I’m not going. I’m staying here.”

“You can’t stay here.”

“Why not? I haven’t broken any laws.”

“That doesn’t matter. Castañeda’s people will hurt you to get to me.”

She shrugged. “So leave some men here to protect me. Leave Adrian and his team.”

He’d suspected that she and Adrian, the head of household security, had been messing around behind his back, but he’d overlooked it because of his own frequent indiscretions.

“Like anyone else, Victoria, Adrian can be bought.”

She crossed her arms. “I’m not living on the run. My friends are here in the city.”

“How long do you think they will remain your friends after my face is back in the papers?”

She knew already which of their friends secretly despised her husband. “I’m staying.”

“Fine,” he said at length. “I won’t force you — but you’re putting yourself in great danger.”

“I knew I was putting myself in danger when I married you, but this is the life I wanted, and I won’t give it up.”

Ruvalcaba took the briefcase from his desk and kissed her on the cheek on his way out of the study. “I’ll call when I can.”

He got into the backseat of his black Escalade and called Hancock on the phone. When the American answered, Ruvalcaba asked if he’d heard the news about Serrano.

“I just got word,” Hancock said. “We don’t need Serrano.”

“How are you progressing?” Hector wanted to know.

“We got a slow start this morning, but we killed four cops in an ambush half an hour ago, and that caused them to pull back closer to the center of town. We hold most of the outlying areas now. They’re doing what I expected them to do. By nightfall, we’ll have all the police in one place, more or less, and after that, it’s just a battle of attrition.”

“I need this victory,” Ruvalcaba said. “I have to bolster my reputation.”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Ruvalcaba. You’ll own the city of Toluca by sunrise tomorrow. Then you can order the town council to appoint whoever you want as chief.”

“If you deliver the town as you say, I will deposit a bonus of one million dollars directly into your account.”

“That’s very generous.”

“And there will be another two million waiting for you after you have removed Antonio Castañeda.”

“Castañeda will be difficult,” Hancock said. “He’s had Special Forces training, and his security is very—”

“Five million,” Ruvalcaba said, knowing that he needed to spend whatever it took to remove Castañeda.

“I’m not bargaining, Mr. Ruvalcaba. I’m telling you that he’ll be very difficult to remove.”

“Difficult,” Ruvalcaba said. “Not impossible.”

“No, sir. Not impossible.”

“Very good. Finish your work in Toluca, then meet me down in Chiapas. We have much work to do, you and I.”

Ruvalcaba finished the call and looked at his driver. “Take me to the airfield.”