Regardless of whose numbers one believed, the glaringly obvious fact was that, for whatever reason, the top man in the world was invisible to all law enforcement authorities and passed across national borders without hindrance.
Three deck hands cleaned the hull of one of the larger ship’s tenders – a thirty-two-foot Cabo Express Aranas liked to use for fishing, which was mounted across the rear of the yacht’s second-story deck, leaving the first free for entertaining. A massive crane swung the boat over the side and into the water whenever he was in the mood to use it to explore shallower waters for elusive game fish.
Aranas was almost sixty years old, which made him ancient in the drug business. Most of his rivals and peers had long since expired or had been incarcerated, and yet Don Aranas enjoyed glowing good health and virtually limitless prosperity. The ship was furnished with a fully-equipped gymnasium, and Aranas made a habit of taking an hour of exercise at least five days a week. What was the point of becoming one of the wealthiest men in the world if you threw it away with a sedentary lifestyle and poor habits, he reasoned. His intention was to live to a ripe old age, confounding his enemies and pursuers in the process. So far, the odds favored him. No photograph existed that was more current than twenty years old, and he no more resembled the images circulated of him than did his captain – a state of affairs he encouraged.
His nephew, Javier, approached him in the lower salon, where he was watching a DVD on the seventy-five-inch plasma screen television, and wordlessly handed him a small cell phone. He stared at it momentarily, and then nodded to Javier, who discreetly departed. Aranas muted the volume and paused the film, and the only sound was the almost imperceptible hum of the twin diesel power plants two stories below him.
“Yes,” he said into the phone.
“ Don Aranas. I apologize for terminating several of your men in Argentina. I did so before knowing who they were or what their errand was.”
“It is of no consequence. They should have been more careful.”
“Yes. Well, I have given your request considerable thought, and I think it would be worth meeting to have a more meaningful discussion,” El Rey said.
“That’s a problem. I don’t meet. Anyone. Ever.”
“I understand, however I don’t come out of retirement ever , either. If you want me to do something I never do, I think that we all need to be prepared to make concessions. Would you not agree?”
Aranas’ anger flashed to the surface for a moment, but he quickly won the struggle to control it. He needed El Rey . These were unusual times. Perhaps flexibility was in order.
“What did you have in mind?”
“Did you receive my message about my fee?”
“Yes, yes. I have no problem with it, although for that amount of money, success had better be guaranteed. I heard about your adventure in Baja. That sort of outcome isn’t an option,” Aranas warned.
“That was the only instance of a failure in an otherwise exemplary career, and frankly it would have been rectified if the client had still been around to pursue it. As things worked out, it wasn’t a priority any longer, so it seemed more prudent to remove myself from the equation,” El Rey explained.
“You insist on a meeting. Again, what do you have in mind?”
“It must be only you and me. Nobody else. Just as you value your privacy, so do I. And it won’t be for three weeks. I have other matters that must be attended to before I can meet. I’ll call this number again on the twenty-fifth, at this time. Then we can arrange to get together somewhere both of us can be assured is safe. Will that work for you?”
“I still don’t like it.”
“Yes. I understand. The alternative, of course, is that we don’t meet, and you never hear of me again. I trust you’ll still be able to solve whatever problem that is so pressing you needed my services above all
Three deck hands cleaned the hull of one of the larger ship’s tenders – a thirty-two-foot Cabo Express Aranas liked to use for fishing, which was mounted across the rear of the yacht’s second-story deck, leaving the first free for entertaining. A massive crane swung the boat over the side and into the water whenever he was in the mood to use it to explore shallower waters for elusive game fish.
Aranas was almost sixty years old, which made him ancient in the drug business. Most of his rivals and peers had long since expired or had been incarcerated, and yet Don Aranas enjoyed glowing good health and virtually limitless prosperity. The ship was furnished with a fully-equipped gymnasium, and Aranas made a habit of taking an hour of exercise at least five days a week. What was the point of becoming one of the wealthiest men in the world if you threw it away with a sedentary lifestyle and poor habits, he reasoned. His intention was to live to a ripe old age, confounding his enemies and pursuers in the process. So far, the odds favored him. No photograph existed that was more current than twenty years old, and he no more resembled the images circulated of him than did his captain – a state of affairs he encouraged.
His nephew, Javier, approached him in the lower salon, where he was watching a DVD on the seventy-five-inch plasma screen television, and wordlessly handed him a small cell phone. He stared at it momentarily, and then nodded to Javier, who discreetly departed. Aranas muted the volume and paused the film, and the only sound was the almost imperceptible hum of the twin diesel power plants two stories below him.
“Yes,” he said into the phone.
“ Don Aranas. I apologize for terminating several of your men in Argentina. I did so before knowing who they were or what their errand was.”
“It is of no consequence. They should have been more careful.”
“Yes. Well, I have given your request considerable thought, and I think it would be worth meeting to have a more meaningful discussion,” El Rey said.
“That’s a problem. I don’t meet. Anyone. Ever.”
“I understand, however I don’t come out of retirement ever , either. If you want me to do something I never do, I think that we all need to be prepared to make concessions. Would you not agree?”
Aranas’ anger flashed to the surface for a moment, but he quickly won the struggle to control it. He needed El Rey . These were unusual times. Perhaps flexibility was in order.
“What did you have in mind?”
“Did you receive my message about my fee?”
“Yes, yes. I have no problem with it, although for that amount of money, success had better be guaranteed. I heard about your adventure in Baja. That sort of outcome isn’t an option,” Aranas warned.
“That was the only instance of a failure in an otherwise exemplary career, and frankly it would have been rectified if the client had still been around to pursue it. As things worked out, it wasn’t a priority any longer, so it seemed more prudent to remove myself from the equation,” El Rey explained.
“You insist on a meeting. Again, what do you have in mind?”
“It must be only you and me. Nobody else. Just as you value your privacy, so do I. And it won’t be for three weeks. I have other matters that must be attended to before I can meet. I’ll call this number again on the twenty-fifth, at this time. Then we can arrange to get together somewhere both of us can be assured is safe. Will that work for you?”
“I still don’t like it.”
“Yes. I understand. The alternative, of course, is that we don’t meet, and you never hear of me again. I trust you’ll still be able to solve whatever problem that is so pressing you needed my services above all
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