Ballistic(149)
Court was all business. “Where is the girl?” He spun around again, kept his weapon’s muzzle moving in a blur as he scanned all around.
“You would like to exchange my Nestor for your Laura, correct?”
“That’s correct. You can have him back, and then Laura and I will leave together. Everyone wins.”
De la Rocha just shrugged; Court began stepping backwards, hoping to make his way to a wall so his back would not be exposed to the balcony behind him.
As Gentry backed into a sofa in the middle of the floor, de la Rocha said, “Nestor told you his men were monitoring the phone line. And that is why you called it.”
Court did not respond.
“Nestor gave you this address as well. He has let me down by conspiring with you. He let me down more by working with Madrigal in the first place. Going behind my back to make a deal for you. I found out all about it this afternoon, and as a result of this knowledge, your bargaining chip has lost all its value.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean . . . if you had brought Calvo with you tonight, I would have killed him myself.”
Court started moving sideways along the long couch.
“So you see, amigo, you come here with nothing to trade for the girl.”
Court’s brain worked through the problem. He said, “There is something.”
“What’s that?”
“In exchange for her life, you can have me. She walks out right now, we stand around and look at each other until I know that she’s safe, and then I lower my gun. Me for her. Okay?”
“One problem with your offer.”
“What’s that?”
“I already have you.”
Court heard the footsteps above and behind him. A dozen men stepped onto the balcony. Six filed over to his left, and six stayed behind. He assumed they’d been watching the conversation on a closed-circuit television.
They all carried M4 rifles.
Fuck.
FIFTY-FIVE
“I did not send all my sicarios to Concordia. In fact, this is not all of them. I actually retained the leader of my enforcement arm, just in case I needed his help this evening.” DLR looked to his left. “Spider?”
The curtain to the left of the throne opened. Behind it, Spider stood in his black suit. His arms were high in the air, and they held a long, shining machete.
Below him, on her knees, handcuffed and gagged, knelt Laura Gamboa. She looked to Court down in the sala, and then she strained against her bindings.
Court’s weapon turned to Cepeda’s forehead.
“You move that blade and I drop you.” His voice quivered and cracked as he spoke.
DLR laughed at him. “Think about it, amigo! You shoot Spider and then all the men around here fill you with machine-gun bullets. And then, as you lay dead or dying, I step over and chop her head off myself.” Daniel unlaced his fingers and dropped them down to his sides. “I know what the most difficult thing for you right now is, gringo. It is not saving her, not killing me, not getting away with your life. No, Gray Man, the most difficult thing at this moment is trying to not think of the phrase, ‘Mexican standoff.’ ” He laughed at his joke.
“We can work this out, Daniel. In just a few minutes this—”
“Quiet!” DLR shouted, then turned behind him, opened the curtain, and slid out a small trunk. He opened it and lifted an item out.
It was a black plastic bag, and Court immediately suspected it contained a human head. He was right. Daniel pulled it out and held it high above him. Court focused on the disgusting sight, stared at the face.
Elena?
No. It was a man.
Ramses?
No . . . the hair was lighter.
The flickering candlelight from one hundred sources could not bring life to the open, vacant eyes. Court’s jaw clenched. He said, aloud, “Jerry.”
“Spider’s sicarios caught your American friend yesterday trying to board a cruise ship in Cancun. Under torture we found out the Gamboas crossed the border in Nogales and made it to Tucson. You were smart to not tell him more of their plans. Pfleger was weak. Still, they worked on him all night before they determined he didn’t know where you were.
“So, Jerry didn’t know where Elena went. He was, ultimately, useless.” DLR tossed the American embassy man’s head across the room, towards the huge windows off to Court’s right. It rolled into a dark corner and disappeared.
“I need Elena Gamboa. I offered the life of little Laura here to la virgen, but she only laughed. I offered her your life, but she told me your death would serve me, not her, and therefore, it is no gift at all.”
Court’s eyes scanned the room again while DLR said this. Other than the doorway he’d passed through to enter the sala there was one more entrance visible, an archway on his left that, no doubt, led to the front of the house. He suspected there was another archway behind the curtains in the dining room. That would lead towards the south wing of the huge building.