“You are doing this all for the girl? ¿En serio?” Seriously?
“Yes. If you return her to me, all the bad stuff stops. You can go on being a crystal meth–trafficking piece of shit to your heart’s content, and I will no longer be in your way.”
De la Rocha’s face was red with anger. After a long time he spoke. “You are dead, maricón. You are dead.”
Gentry shrugged. “Call ten of your top lieutenants and tell them the same thing, because within seventy-two hours it’s a good bet that a lot of them will be.”
“Do you know who we are, Gray Man? We are Los Trajes Negros. We were one of the best-trained units in the Mexican Army. Trained by your military, in fact. I am not just some carterlero from the mountains with ostrich boots and a cuerno de chivo like that cabrón Madrigal. I trained at Fort Benning and Fort Bragg.”
“When you were at Bragg, did you see all those paramilitary forces training there?”
“Yes, and I trained with them. The best commandos in the world.”
“Badasses, one and all. But remember this. Every single one of those special ops organizations has killing me right at the top of their to-do list . . . They’ve been after me for years, and yet here I sit. You have never been up against someone like me, Daniel. You would do well to keep that in the forefront of your consciousness.”
Nestor Calvo had not spoken. Now he shook his head, leaned slightly forward. Said in Spanish. “But señor, you are just one man.”
Court leaned closer to Nestor. Made long and severe eye contact. “With nothing to lose.”
DLR looked down at the dead man’s switch in the American’s hand. “You think I’m scared of you?”
Gentry smiled, genuinely pleased he had been asked the question. “I think you are fucking terrified. I see straight through that macho image. You are thinking of your family, and you are thinking of the men you left around Laura, and you hope to God you can call them and tell them to stay away from her before they do something that they cannot undo. Because you know what I have done, and you know what I am capable of.
“Everything just changed in your world. You’re no different than thousands of other shitheads around this planet. Your influence, your success, your power—it all comes from fear. If you can’t fill people with fear, then you are nothing. You cease to be. Well, guess what, amigo? You aren’t the scariest thing around here anymore.”
Nestor drummed his fingers on the table. He leaned forward, towards the American. “I suppose you have a plan to get away now?”
“I do.” Court reached into the pocket of his waiter’s coat, pulled out a small mobile phone.
“Four more pounds of ANFO is stashed under a table in this room. As I walk away from the restaurant, I only have to push one button”—he held up the phone—“and every one of you dies. As soon as I disappear from view, you might want to think about running out of here, because I have not decided if this is all worth the trouble. Maybe I’ll just turn you into dog meat tonight and hope your men let Laura go because there is a new law in town.”
De la Rocha looked like he was going to explode from anger. Gentry turned away from him, directed his next words to Calvo, as if the head of Los Trajes Negros was not even there. “You’ll have to keep this guy on a short leash. He’s going to want to tear up the country to find me. That’s fine; he can waste his time and his energy. But you need to keep letting him know how much my reign of terror on your organization is costing him. All I want is the girl. Handing her over to me will not cost you a dime. You can see how that is in your best interests, even if this dumb fuck cannot.” Court stood. “Hopefully, he will listen to you”—he motioned to the Santa Muerte statue in the corner—“and not to that creepy bitch.”
And with that Gentry raised the dead man’s switch high in his left hand, and the mobile phone high in his right. “Tell these assholes to let me walk out of here.”
De la Rocha only nodded slightly; his eyes remained locked on the American. Calvo rose from the table, headed past the fountain and towards the armed men in the courtyard, telling them all to let the gringo leave unmolested.
“I will see you again, Gray Man,” de la Rocha said softly.
“If you do, Daniel, you will end up like your poor friend.”
De la Rocha cocked his head, but Gentry turned away, walked out of the courtyard, past the phalanx of bodyguards. Seconds after that he left the restaurant, both his hands still high in the air.
“What did he say to you while I was gone?” Calvo asked Daniel upon returning to the table. The rest of the inner circle of the Black Suits closed on their leader.