Page 78 of Shadow Man
We’re frisked and shown into an interior courtyard—a mosaicked riad with overhanging balconies and an extravagant blue fountain that’s making the whole place stink of cleaning fluid.Stupid move giving us ideas like that.By the end of the evening, I guarantee Fernandez will be facedown and drowning in it.
The man himself is waiting for us like a cheap king on his patio chair throne. He’s flanked by five of his own, all armed, with a dozen more stationed in the balconies above. His own gun has been neatly placed on the glass table in front of him like some kind of fucked-up decoration, the muzzle pointing portentously—or what he’d like to think is portentously—in our direction. Next to it is a stack of paperwork and a bottle of Aguardiente.
The guy’s sixty, but he looks like he’s pushing seventy. That's the kind of crazy shit an eighteen-year-old girlfriend will do to an old man. He’s dressed for the occasion in black, with the color highlighting the network of gaunt shadows on his face. He’s a skull in a suit, but we’ll be the ones delivering death tonight.
No Anna.
No Viviana.
No more patience.
“Where the fuck are they?” I growl, striding up to him.
“Señor Santiago…El Asesino.” He doesn’t bother to stand and greet us.Mistake number one.
“What do you want, Fernandez?” says Dante, putting his hand on my arm. He needs me simmering, not exploding. He’ll be wanting me to save that for the finale. “This is a tedious charade, not befitting of any of us.”
“My son is dead, Señor Santiago,” declares the old man, holding it up like a trump card when everyone here knows it’s a fake. Alberto was a drunk and liar, and he’s far more valuable to his father six-feet under than he ever was alive. “What could be more befitting than retribution? Surely you know this better than anyone…”
“The countless virtues of my dead daughter could never erase the vice of your dead son,señor,” he responds coldly. “I’m not in the habit of repeating myself, but on this occasion I will… What thefuckdo you want?”
The sudden singsong nature of his voice is a warning. The fireworks are in danger of being lit early tonight from the both of us.
“Dante,” I hiss, impressing on him the importance of sticking to our plan in a single word. Nothing can happen until we know they’re alive.
Fernandez glances between us, trying to read into our silence.
Good luck with that.
“What I want,señor,is a mere five minutes of your time.” He gestures to the spare seats opposite him. “I’d like to conclude all business transactions before we have the, ah, pleasure of their company.”
The way his accent thickens as he says it makes my blood freeze.If he’s laid one finger on her—
“This isn’t a fucking board meeting, Fernandez,” snaps Dante. “You’re not a corrupt government figurehead anymore. We don't sign paperwork in our business. We ink our shit in blood. You want Gomez’s organization? You know what you need to do about it.”
“Gomez’s organization is mine already,” he says, dismissing him with a wave. “You can’t stop the inevitable. My men are poised to take control of his processing plants this evening.Thisis about savoring my victory.”
“And what victory would that be?” I say coolly. “The acquisition of a plot of land next to your son’s grave?”
There’s a long pause. It’s the cool hush before the start of a circus show, when all of the lights are down.
“Is Gomez dead?” he says idly.
“All our enemies are dead,” I say evenly.
“Not all,” he says with a smirk as he reveals his second trump card of the night.
Dante was right. There’s a silent partner in this game.
Dante breaks the deadlock first by swinging out a chair and taking a seat. I know what he’s doing. He’s intrigued, and now he’s angling for time. As usual, I keep one pace behind him and two eyes on the game.
“Where’s Luis Ossa?”
Fernandez offers him a bland smile. “He had a prior engagement.”
“With your bullet?” Dante crosses his legs and leans back in his chair. “Here I was thinking you two had a deal… Do you make it a habit of renegading on them, Fernandez?”
“Only with those who fail to uphold their side of the bargain.” With that he slides a stack of paper across the table toward him.