“And I’m going to be adding a tune to your hymnal. Little piece of your history you might have forgotten. You and I need to go over the music.”
Al Din smiled to himself, remembering the strange news stories he’d been hearing about a tie between the Mexican drug cartels and Islamic terrorism. “This new song; is it a mariachi number perhaps?” al Din asked. “A little something about drug cartels and terrorists?”
Al Din was sharp, Munroe knew that. Not that he had to be a rocket scientist to piece that together, not with the crap that had already hit the media.
“Yeah, a nice little narcocoriddos tune. I’ll have all the lyrics for you.”
“I’ll brush up on my Spanish,” said al Din.
“Then you can look forward to a very comfortable retirement in the West…” Just the slightest pause, just enough to let al Din know that the conversation was about to take an uncomfortable turn. Munroe was about to give him the bad news. “That is if you can help me ensure this diamond mess turns out right.”
And now a pause on al Din’s end, to let Munroe know he was not happy. “Help you how?”
“Hardin’s still running around loose with the stones. And now he’s got company. DEA agent named Wilson. Old girlfriend, it turns out. I don’t need a couple of free radicals running around waiting to piss on my narrative. And, since you’re cast for a major role in this production now, you don’t need that either.”
“So?”
“So you’ve been hunting Hardin since you hit town, right?”
“Yes.”
“Keep hunting. I’m working Hardin from my end. You keep working him from yours. Until he’s off the board, we can’t finalize our deal.”
Al Din let a little dead air build, let Munroe know he wasn’t holding all the cards yet. “I have been hunting Hardin for Tehran. But I get paid to hunt. The $15 million we’ve agreed on, that’s to tie Tehran to Heinz and to turn in the nasty little surprise they bought from him. If I get Hardin, what am I paid for that?”
“Hardin’s still got the diamonds. You get him, then you’ll have those. And I need those. So you get Hardin before I do and you double down on your payday.”
Al Din smiled, thought of a phrase he had heard many times in America. “What a country,” he said.
“Which one?” asked Munroe.
“Who cares?”
Al Din ended the call. The phone had vibrated while he was talking with Munroe – a message coming in from his contact in Tokyo. He had picked up Hardin’s black Honda on a tollbooth camera ten minutes earlier. It was eastbound on Interstate 90, heading toward Chicago.
CHAPTER 81
Wilson driving, cussing under her breath, drumming her fingers on the wheel. They were coming up on O’Hare, about to switch from 90 to the Kennedy, but the traffic had slowed to a crawl. Morning rush, and the radio said there was a three-car crash at Lawrence, two lanes closed. IDOT was ripping up 294 again, so cutting down the Tri-State to the Ike wasn’t going to save any time. The traffic report on the radio put the travel time from O’Hare to the Loop at over an hour.
“You in that big a hurry?” Hardin said. “We get there, we’re either gonna get rich or dead, and I make it 60-40 on dead.”
“I’d rather be dead than sit in traffic.”
Hardin laughed. “Yeah, me too.”
He pulled out his phone, called Lafitpour.
“Get Hickman to your office.”
“Why?” Lafitpour asked.
“Because you want to make a deal, and that’s one of the conditions. I’ll call back in a bit.” Hardin closed the line.
“I’ll give them the location when we’re ten minutes out,” Hardin said to Wilson. “If they’re going to play nice, then ten minutes is all they’ll need. If they’re going to fuck with us, the less time we give them the better.”
Wilson nodded. Traffic came to a dead stop again. She reached over, took Hardin’s hand.
“No matter how this goes, I’m where I want to be,” she said.
Hardin squeezed her hand and nodded. “Me too.”
CHAPTER 82
Corsco thought about the Hardin situation. Hardin was Fenn’s contract, but fuck Fenn. The Eagle would take care of Fenn. Not like Corsco was going to see any money out of Fenn anyway, even if he took Hardin down. Never really been about the money anyway. Corsco had to admit that to himself. Been about hanging with Fenn, the Hollywood cool, about the women. Lesson to be learned there.
Still, supply and demand. Hardin was in demand, and Corsco was in the supply business. Question was, who did Corsco feed Hardin to?
That Munroe guy wanted Hardin, but that was just business. As long as Hardin ended up dead, Munroe didn’t care how he got there.
Hernandez wanted Hardin, but with Hernandez it was personal. And this past week had caused some serious tension with Hernandez. Corsco didn’t need that. Plus, if he gave Hardin to Hernandez, then Hernandez would owe him a favor. That Munroe guy didn’t seem like he was the favor granting sort.
Corsco called Hernandez.
“I assume you’re still looking for Hardin?”
“Yes. I want to taste that bastard’s blood.”
Jesus, thought Corsco. These Mexicans. Always with the blood tasting. “I have a man on him,” Corsco said.
“Bring him to me,” Hernandez growled into the phone.
“Can’t do that. But I’ve got a man on his tail right now, stuck in traffic on the Kennedy. Looks like Hardin’s heading downtown. My guy will stay on him as long as he can. If you can round up some troops, my guy will guide them in. What you do with Hardin is your business.”
“I will be in touch. If I get Hardin, I will not forget this.”
“A favor for a colleague,” Corsco said. “You would do as much.”
CHAPTER 83
“You have the money ready to move?” Hardin on the cell with Lafitpour. Hardin and Wilson had just cleared the accident at Lawrence, traffic starting to thin out a little.
“Yes, of course.”
“What do you need to make the transfer?”
“It only takes a phone call,” said Lafitpour. “As long as you have the account numbers and access codes.”
“OK. Hickman there?”
“Yes.”
“Put us on speaker.”
A pause, then Lafitpour, a little distant now, speakerphone voice. “We are on speaker.”
“You there, Hickman.”
“Yes,” Hickman said.
“OK gents,” said Hardin, “We’re making the deal today. Here’s how this works. I will call you with a location, and I will call you soon, so don’t step out for coffee or tie up the line. You show up, both of you, but only the both of you. I give you the rocks, you transfer the money. Then we all take a little ride until I’m sure the transaction has cleared and that nobody is trying to bust me again.”
Lafitpour chuckled. “And why, exactly, would we agree to be your hostages?”
“Hey, we could have played things nice and civil last time, remember? I wasn’t the one who queered that deal. And cut the hostage shit. This whole city is holding me hostage right now. I try to screw you on this deal, there won’t be enough room on the planet for me to hide. I’m selling the diamonds, but what I’m buying is your goodwill. Well, not yours. Hickman’s and the guys in Washington who are pulling his strings. I fuck you on this, I might as well save myself a few really uncomfortable weeks and just eat my damn gun.”
“And if I still don’t like your terms?”
“Then I have to find some new friends and some other way to keep safe. Wilson and me? I don’t think we can get $15 million for a book deal, but I bet I can get something, don’t you? And killing me is going to get a lot trickier after I’ve been on CNN blowing holes in this drugs and terrorists bullshit.”