Daniel listened carefully while the Bolivian rattled out the latest intel from Mexico. The crush of information from Mexico and New Orleans during the past two days had been invaluable, but there would have been no information without Daniel, and the Bolivians knew it. Daniel had finally found the fuckers, and the dumb fucks had tried to cut a deal instead of running, and now their deal was killing them.

“Yes, sir, I will keep you advised—absolutely.”

Daniel wanted to get off the phone, but the Bolivian kept going, saying how pleased they all were with Daniel, his loyalty, his determination, yadayadayada.

“Thank you, sir. No, really—I appreciate your faith in me. Thank you.”

Daniel killed the link.

“Asshole.”

Cleo snickered. “What an assfart.”

Tobey laughed. “Big gapin’ assclown, clown.”

Daniel squinted across the runway at the control tower, then up into a hazy white sky. He leaned back until he looked straight up, enjoying the morning sky, and this place, and this moment. Daniel had assassinated people at airports like this all over South and Central America. He had also kidnapped people, blown up airplanes, stolen cargo, and pretty much every other damn thing a person could do.

“Been a long hunt, boys.”

Tobey said, “Way too long.”

Cleo said, “Too damn long.”

Santa Monica Airport was a single runway lined by hangars and businesses, along with a very nice viewing area where Daniel now sat. He would be able to see the jet land, and still have plenty of time to get into position. Daniel already knew where the inbound jet would park. A stretch limo, a candy-gold SS396, and a chopped-down Monte Carlo were waiting directly across the tarmac. A moron’s idea of a welcoming committee, for sure, but the limo was a fat black roach that would lead him to the promised land.

Daniel checked his watch. If the Bolivian was right, the Mexican would touch down in less than an hour, then be on his way to their meeting.

“You guys ready to kill some people?”

Tobey said, “Fuck yeah.”

Cleo said, “Kill’m real good, good.”

Daniel chuckled.

“Me, too, boys.”

“Kill’m and eat’m?”

“Eat’m?”

“You boys are insane.”

“’Sane?”

“’Sane?”

Daniel enjoyed the sun on his face and the pleasant company of their echoing voices.

Chapter 31

31

Elvis Cole

Cole watched Pike drive away, then returned to his desk for the pictures of Dru and Wilson, who weren’t really Dru Rayne or Wilson Smith. People change their names to hide, but hide from what, and who? Cole had been an investigator long enough to know people sometimes had good reasons to hide, but most of the time their reasons were bad. Cole had a bad feeling about these people, and the more he learned the worse his feeling grew.