Night of the Assassin: Assassin Series Prequel by Russell Blake (latest ebook reader .txt) 📕

The young man didn’t hesitate. He’d already decided on his professional moniker. He would be named after the cursed card that had ruined his life, and had freed him at the same time.

“El Rey. After the tarot card, the King of Swords. You can call me El Rey.”

Chapter 9

Later that evening, after catching a few hours of sleep, El Rey returned to Valiente with the photo of Altamar after the acid facial scrub, having collected his fee before departing the office earlier in the day. The cartel boss was both fascinated and repelled by the ‘after’ image of Altamar – and this was a man who saw death on an almost daily basis.

“Jesus fucking Christ. What did you do to him?” Valiente exclaimed.

El Rey shrugged. “Acid.”

“Fuck, kid. You’re one sick bastard, I’ll grant you that. I never want to piss you off,” Valiente admitted.

“I figured you’d want something that would make a statement. You can download the photo or I can e-mail it to you for circulation purposes if anyone ever decides to test your power. I imagine it would deliver a considerable deterrent value.” El Rey grinned humorlessly as he spoke.

“This will stop anyone that doesn’t have a death wish in their tracks.” Valiente slid a folder to him, along with a black garbage bag. “I have three primary rivals I need executed in the next two days. Their details are in the folder. Half the money for the first contract is in the sack. Come back when you’ve done the first one and I’ll pay you the balance and give you a payment for the second and third contracts. But I need this handled quickly, because once they get wise to Altamar being missing for any significant period of time they’ll be coming for me.”

“Then I better get going. I could use some help locating a few things for these jobs, though. I figure you’d know where to find these.” He handed Valiente a short list. “The sooner I can get them, the sooner I can fulfill these contracts.”

Valiente studied the short list.

“The M-4 is no problem. We’ve got a bunch of those. Don’t know if any have a night scope on them, though. Let me make a call. The Remington we also have, or can get within a few hours. Same for the Glock with a silencer. Pretty standard issue, that. Although it may not be 9 mm. If we have to go .45 caliber, will that do?” Valiente looked up from the list and El Rey nodded assent. “Lot of the marines bring those Remington 700s with them – they love their sniper rifles. I see you’re okay with the .308. That will make it easy. Oh, and plastique and grenades? How messy do you plan to make this? I don’t want to be associated with public bloodbaths in crowds. You need to be surgical.”

“I intend to be as discreet as possible, but it’s better to be prepared, than not. I will get busy on the first contract while you source that gear. How can I contact you at night? I’ll want to pick up the weapons as soon as you have them.”

Valiente scribbled a cell number on the back of a card.

“Call me in two hours and we’ll arrange a drop-off. Don’t worry about the cost; they’re on me. I’m presuming you’ll want, what, five hundred rounds for the M-4 and maybe fifty for the Remington and the Glock?” Valiente confirmed.

El Rey nodded.

“Make it a hundred for the Glock.”

Valiente grunted. He was already imagining how it would feel to be sitting on Altamar’s throne.

“Okay, then, we’re set. And you, my friend, can call me any time.” He looked at the image on the little camera again. “I’m glad you’re on my side… ‘El Rey’.”

“So am I.”

Both men smiled, their eyes dead.

El Rey had checked into a high-end hotel in town and now sat at the small rectangular table in his room going over the details of the three targets. He didn’t see a problem taking them out but it would get progressively harder as word of a purge spread. Ideally, he would do all in the same night but he needed to look into the logistics. He jotted the addresses down and decided to go for a drive to explore the neighborhoods. Valiente had supplied plentiful information on the targets’ security, so there were no surprises there, but he wanted to determine if it was practical to do three in one night.

He would need a different vehicle than the truck, so he would have to buy something, preferably with an alarm and dependable, considering that he was driving around with over two million in cash. It was a Thursday evening, so he decided to hit one of the new car dealers before they closed. Some lucky salesman was about to get a dream handed to him.

El Rey drove to the Toyota dealer, and after an hour emerged with the keys to a shiny new black 4 Runner with a factory alarm. That would more than do. He could do the reconnaissance in the plate-less Toyota and then use the big Ford for the actual hits. His days with the Ford were numbered in hours, so it would be best to use it, rather than the Toyota, for operational purposes.

He drove to the neighborhood of the first target’s ranch on the outskirts of town, five acres with a nice colonial-style single-level house, a modest seven bedrooms per the information. He knew from the photos and the file what to expect on the layout, and found several obvious holes in the security setup just driving by. The first target, Manuel Remarosa, would be a piece of cake.

The second hit wouldn’t be so easy, he knew. The man lived an hour outside of town on a large parcel of land with only one entry – a heavily-guarded private road. There was no point in