Dead Man's Land Jack Patterson (classic novels txt) 📖

Torres slid slowly down the wall, his mouth agape. He waited until he heard their footsteps disappear before he said a word.

“Was I right?” Ortega asked.

Torres nodded.

“About what?”

“Everything,” Torres said slowly. “They’re going to trade Prado for the assassin, Victor Vegas.”

“And us?”

“Just pray that we live through the night.”

CHAPTER 51

WALLER CONSIDERED SPIKING HIS COFFEE with something, anything to strengthen his morning elixir. After spending the first half hour of his day getting yelled at by his supervisor, he figured the only way the day could go was up. But he wasn’t too confident based on how everything else had gone sideways over the past few weeks.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite screw up,” Simon Berkshire said as he approached Waller’s desk. “I hear there are search warrants out for the arrest of Big Bird and Oscar the Grouch. Do you and Hampton think you can handle it?”

Waller raised his middle finger at Berkshire and declined to respond any other way.

Hampton, who had a doctor’s appointment earlier that morning, sauntered into the office and took a seat at his desk across from Waller’s.

“Nice of you to finally show up,” Waller said.

“Your meeting went that well, huh?” Hampton said.

“I could’ve used you in there—anyone to deflect the eyes that bore a hole in me the entire time I was in there.”

“I wish I could’ve been there,” Hampton said. He paused before continuing. “No, seriously, I’m glad I wasn’t. Who would wish to be in such a meeting? We did the best we could with what we were given each time out. The department is the one that underestimated what we were up against—not us. It’s not our fault. If I hear people challenging how we responded, I’m going to tune them out. We did a great job, given the circumstances.”

“That’s not how everyone else sees it.”

“Screw them. They wouldn’t have fared any better if they were placed in the same situation. I’m proud of how we handled it.”

“You wouldn’t have been if you heard what I had to hear this morning.”

Hampton rolled his eyes. “Just shake it off.” He started clicking his mouse on his computer. “I just sent you a great video to inspire you to take my advice.”

Waller heard his email ding, alerting him that a new email had just arrived.

“A Taylor Swift video, Hampton? Really?”

“So it’s aimed at the teeny-bopper market. Just watch it and tell me what you think.”

“How’d you find out about this video? This isn’t your style.”

“My daughter is fourteen, Waller. Fourteen! I see loads of this crap all the time.”

“Well, you’re right about one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s crap, all right.”

Waller’s desk phone buzzed. He looked at the number on the screen and didn’t recognize it at first. But then he saw the area code.

“I gotta take this,” Waller said.

He answered the phone. “This is Waller.”

“Waller, this is James Giles from DHS. We received a call this morning from Fabian Munoz, the infamous Mexican drug cartel leader. He warned us you might know about a certain someone, Vincente Prado, we’re interested in questioning.”

Waller laughed but said nothing. “Why don’t you nab him yourself? I’m tired of doing all of DHS’s bidding.”

“This might be funny to you—but it’s no laughing matter,” Giles said. “This is serious. We’ve got to stop Munoz.”

“Okay, I’ll play along,” Waller shot back. “What do you need from us?”

“It’s very simple, really. We need you to handle the transfer of five prisoners Munoz is willing to give us for Victor Vegas.”

Waller froze and didn’t open his mouth for several moments. “Victor Vegas?” he stammered.

“The one and only.”

“You’re going to just let him walk out of prison after all the people he killed? Dozens of people worked hard to put him behind bars—it even cost some people their lives. I can’t believe this.”

“He won’t attempt such a thing again, believe me.”

Waller sighed. “What makes you so sure?”

“You just have to trust us on this one. Time is of the essence in questioning Prado right now.”

“I wish I could believe you, but this is ridiculous. You’re giving up a fugitive who was finally sentenced to life in prison after a nationwide manhunt that lasted more than three years. Prado better be worth all this.”

“If we don’t talk with Prado soon, Vegas’ killing spree is going to look like a misdemeanor compared to what could happen,” Giles said. “Just don’t screw this up, okay? We need to question him before it’s too late.”

“Too late for what?”

“I’m afraid that’s over your clearance level,” Giles said. “Just oversee this simple transaction and we’ll get out of your hair.”

Waller let out a long breath and rubbed his face with both hands. “We’ll do our best.”

“Thanks. Check your inbox,” Giles said. “Directions on what to do are forthcoming.”

Waller hung up and started clicking on the agency’s server. He wanted more background on Fabian Munoz. Based on what he’d heard through the grapevine, the drug cartel leader was ruthless. He killed a kindergarten teacher who gave his grandson a failing grade for a painting he did. He hung the heads of beheaded enemies from ropes over nearby highway overpasses. Nothing seemed beneath him.

Several minutes later, his inbox dinged with a message from Giles. Everything he’d said seemed true. The Department of Homeland Security was going to release Victor Vegas for Prado and four other prisoners.

CHAPTER 52

THE NEXT MORNING, CAL TOOK a seat on Munoz’s private jet next to Kelly. Prado was onboard too, along with Torres and Ortega. Two other armed guards sat with them, eyeing their every move.

Outside his window, Cal could see the sun peeking over the horizon. He was relieved he was finally leaving Munoz’s compound, but he had no idea where he was going—or if he was getting any closer to getting home.

“Would someone please tell me what’s going on?” Cal said. “This is ridiculous.”

“Would you rather me just shoot you and get it over with?” one of the guards said.

Cal then felt