“I know, buddy.” Marco patted Matt on the back, then pulled away to look him in the eyes. “I am so sorry.”
He didn’t need to finish. They all knew what he meant.
Matt nodded and gave Marco a crooked smile. “We got the bastard, didn’t we?”
“That’s right,” Marco said. Then his face turned serious. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
Nick’s mind began to clear. “What about the bomb?”
Marco rolled over Garza and pulled a cell phone from his pocket and handed it to Nick. “Here’s the detonator. It’s not on a timer, so we should be okay. But the sooner the bomb squad gets to it, the better.”
Nick checked Garza’s pulse. The assassin would survive the beating. Barely. He patted Garza’s body and removed a gun and a blade from his belt holster. On the TV screen, a squad of soldiers were already flooding into the mine, following Stevie’s arm as he pointed down the tunnel entrance.
Marco went behind the bar and pushed a button. A second later the hydraulic wall began to open. Then he came over and pulled Garza up to hoist him over his back and carry him into the tunnel and drop him into an open cart.
“Tell me something,” Nick said. “Is Decker on his payroll?”
Marco nodded, then pulled out his own cell phone. “It’s all right here. You’d be surprised how high it goes.”
Marco suddenly ran up the stairs, two steps at a time.
“Where you going?” Matt asked.
“Give me thirty seconds,” Marco said, then shut the door behind him.
Nick grabbed Matt’s arm. “You okay?”
Matt’s eyes glistened from the emotional strain he’d just endured. It must’ve been therapeutic, however, because Matt grinned for the first time in days. “I’m okay,” Matt said.
The basement door opened. Nick grabbed Garza’s gun and readied himself, until Marco came down the stairs, holding a young boy in his arms. The boy was still half-asleep and in his pajamas. He was rubbing his eyes when Marco gently placed him on his feet next to Matt.
Nick raised his eyebrows at Marco.
“I keep my promises,” Marco said, running behind the bar and pulling open a knife display on the wall.
“What’s your name?” Matt asked.
“Julio,” the boy said, softly.
Marco returned holding a briefcase in his right hand. “C’mon,” he said, grabbing Julio and tossing him over his shoulder. “Let’s go home.”
“What’s that?” Matt asked, pointing to the briefcase.
Marco smiled. “We’ll talk.”
Chapter 29
The East Room of the White House was a large, high-ceiling room, elegantly decorated with chandeliers and gold curtains. Because of its size, it was used for special ceremonies, entertaining dignitaries and the occasional dinner. This time the large room was set up for a special press conference.
Behind the podium, in a walkway, hidden from the crowd of reporters, Samuel Fisk stood still while a couple of White House aides groomed him. One woman patted his face with a round sponge pad, while a male aide fixed his tie.
President Merrick lingered next to him, examining the sheet of paper containing Fisk’s opening statement.
“You ready for this?” Merrick asked.
“I’m a little hungry.”
“Of course you are.”
Merrick seemed to scrutinize the speech until he dropped the paper by his side and looked at the two aides. “Are we about done here?”
In a matter of seconds, Fisk and Merrick were left alone. The only sound came from the gaggle of reporters milling around, anticipating the sudden press conference.
“What about the bomb?” Merrick asked in a soft voice.
“What bomb?” Fisk replied, with an innocent expression.
While Merrick stared, Fisk could see the wheels turning inside.
“So, we don’t mention it?” Merrick asked.
“Why?” Fisk said. “Nothing good could come from it.”
Merrick nodded. “You think this United Palestinian Force is finished?”
Fisk wiped his hands in the air. “They’re done,” he said. “They’ve exhausted all their resources and their top three officials have been spotted leaving Israel. Why kindle a fire which is already dead?”
Merrick cracked a smile and handed the briefing notes back to Fisk. He slapped his friend on the arm and said, “Go get ’em, Tiger.”
* * *
Francisco Rodriguez sat on his leather couch with his feet up on the ottoman smugly watching his wall TV screen. The American Secretary of State was about to give a press conference and his sources had told him the Secretary would be announcing the President’s endorsement of the Mexican candidate for president. Rodriguez was already fifteen points ahead in the polls with less than a week before the election. No matter who the United States decided to endorse, the outcome was in little jeopardy. In fact, his advisors were even suggesting he would benefit more from a Salcido endorsement.
Rodriguez was in the upstairs loft of his mansion, where he entertained guests and spent most of his down time relaxing. Two of his advisors were sitting on the couch alongside him, with drinks clinking in their hands. Three members of his security team stood in their defensive positions, by the door, the window and the back of the room.
On the screen, Secretary of State Samuel Fisk approached the podium to a cacophony of camera flashes and shuffling feet and electronic devices being switched on or off.
Fisk offered a genial wave, instructing the crowd to settle down.
“I have a brief statement,” Fisk said. “After that I’ll answer any questions you may have.”
Fisk glimpsed down at his notes, but Rodriguez knew there would be a teleprompter there as well to assist him. “The President has deliberately shied away from commenting on the upcoming election down in Mexico,” Fisk began.
“This is true,” Rodriguez said, holding up his glass of whiskey and taking a sip.
“But the recent events which occurred down in Denton, Arizona, have caused the President to favor one of the candidates and felt it was worthy of note.”
Fisk, of course, was referring to the news that a tunnel was discovered between Antonio Garza’s complex and the Chizek Mine Company and the shipment of cocaine which was confiscated in the process.
“Over the past few weeks we’ve been able to infiltrate the most powerful cartel currently operating in Mexico. The Zutons,” Fisk continued. “This organization has been responsible for over five thousand murders during the past decade and are becoming only more dangerous with every passing day. It is with this in mind which had us form an alliance with a great leader below the border. This man was able to penetrate the Zutons’ inner circle and offer confidential intelligence which allowed us the ability to find the Denton tunnel and seize the large amount of cocaine which was recently impounded.”
This was excellent news for Rodriguez. If President Salcido were known to have collaborated with the United States to undermine the Zutons’ influence, he would be considered a great traitor. Did the American President not realize the importance of patriotism within his country?
Fisk cleared his throat and took a sip from a small bottle of water. “This brave man has used his close relations with these cartels to turn over valuable information leading to numerous arrests, including the capture of one of the most dangerous assassins in the world, Antonio Garza.”
Rodriguez was shaking his head now, wondering if Salcido was aware of this press conference ahead of time. Surely he must understand he couldn’t possibly survive this announcement. There wouldn’t be enough protection in the world to prevent the Zutons from chopping his body into small pieces.
“It is the reason I made a special trip to Mexico recently to speak with this gentleman,” Fisk continued. “He was instrumental in our covert operation and will continue to be an enormous teammate in our fight against the cartels.”
At this point the screen split in half, showing the Fisk press conference on the left half and the right half showing file footage of Fisk’s visit with the two Mexican presidential candidates. Fisk was sitting next to President Salcido with a stiff back and a very formal expression common among two leaders who’d never met before.