Bloodline (32 page)

Chapter Sixty-three

The first rays of sun filtered through the eucalyptus and mango trees, quickly heating the air inside the gardener's shed to an uncomfortable level. The night had been a series of close calls, with Javier's men roaming the estate and popping in and out of the shed with no regularity. Sleep was impossible and the constant threat of being discovered was wearing on already frayed nerves. Pedro had gone out a few times during the night, scouting possible escape routes, but the cameras mounted atop the estate walls covered every inch, and scaling the wall would have simply resulted in their capture. They were now relying entirely on Eugene to arrive in time.

Shiara was having trouble breathing, her asthma acting up in response to the heavy scent of cut grass and fertilizers that permeated the small shed. There was no water, and all three were quickly becoming dehydrated as the temperature inside and outside the building rose. Pedro recognized the signs of dehydration and scoured every corner of the shed for something to drink. He came up empty.

“We can't survive all day without water,” he said to Julie. Shiara's head was in her mother's lap and the teenager's breathing was shallow.

“What if Eugene doesn't make it?” Julie asked quietly.

Pedro shrugged. “We're doing the best we can. Getting off the estate with all these armed guards is impossible. We've got to hope Eugene makes it in time.”

Pedro heard a sound and glanced over the row of machinery. Inside the shed and only five feet from where they hid stood one of Rastano's men, his gun pointed at Pedro's head. Pedro ducked as a spray of automatic gunfire raked the air where he had been only a split second before. He leveled the pistol and pumped off four rounds through a gap between the ride-on mower and a fertilizer attachment. All four bullets hit the target and the man staggered backwards, hit the door and crashed into the garden, blood oozing from his mouth. Pedro ran forward to the shed door and pulled it closed, then smashed a small hole through the wood so he had a line of vision on anyone approaching. He took a breath and readied the automatic.

Rastano's men would be coming.

Chapter Sixty-four

The Gulfstream taxied to the executive terminal at San Salvador's airport and came to a halt. Customs and immigration officials boarded the plane immediately, partially out of a desire to see the inside of the thirty-five million dollar aircraft, and partly to check the incoming traveler's documentation. They gave Eugene a bit of a hard time, mostly because he was traveling with a Venezuelan passport on a jet registered in the United States, but after a few minutes they had seen the interior of the craft and they stamped his passport. Eugene hurried to the taxi queue, the Glock pressing against the small of his back.

He gave the driver Javier Rastano's address and sat back, impatient at the slow pace now that he was on the ground. The Gulfstream was a marvel, flying at forty-seven thousand feet at almost Mach 1. The jet had shaved two hours off the time a Boeing 757 would have required, plus the private jet had left the minute he arrived at the Rochester airport. Flying coach would be difficult after that.

The taxi driver perked up and stepped on the gas when Eugene dropped two American one hundred dollar bills on the front seat and promised two more if he could make record time to Colonia Escalón. They flew past the shopping center and onto the smoothly paved streets of the ritzy neighborhood, barely slowing for a woman with a baby carriage. He checked his map and drove at breakneck speeds through the winding, hilly streets until he came to a wrought-iron gate with two serious looking guards.

“We are here, señor,” he said. “Is good?”

Eugene handed him another two hundreds and jumped from the cab. He ran to the gate, ignoring the guns which were pointed at him. In the background he could hear the distinct sound of gunfire.

“Tell Javier Rastano that Eugene Escobar is here,” he yelled. “Now! Call him now!”

Chapter Sixty-five

Javier's men had the shed surrounded and were ready for a full-out assault. The only reason they had yet to overrun the single defender was Rastano's reluctance to have a barrage of gunfire on his estate during the middle of the morning. The boxer didn't care about the noise, and fired indiscriminately at the guards when one of them came into view. Pedro had hit three and the remaining men were giving him a wide berth. Javier took the call from the front gate and waved at his men to back off.

“Let him in,” he said, turning from the shed and walking back toward the pool. “No more shooting unless I give the order,” he screamed.

Eugene was already crossing the patio when Javier reached the tree line on the far side of the grass. They met about half way and stood a few feet apart.

“Did you get it?” Javier asked.

“Where are my wife and daughter?”

“Safe, but not for long if you don't have the account number.”

“I have it,” Eugene said, watching the man's eyes glitter at the prospect of finally laying his hands on the billion dollar account.

Javier spoke softly and without any inkling of a threatening tone. “What is it?”

Eugene shook his head. “No way. Not until I see my family.”

“And Pedro?” Javier asked.

Eugene studied the man's face and saw that he knew. “And Pedro.”

Javier waved at one of his men. “Tell the boxer and the women that Eugenio is here. They are to come out and meet with us.”

The man scurried off with the message and a minute later Eugene heard Pedro's voice yelling for him. He yelled back and a couple of minutes later Pedro, Julie and Shiara appeared from behind some trees. Pedro had the H & K at the ready and the women behind him. Julie and Shiara started running to Eugene when they saw him but Javier yelled for them to stop.

“No one moves until I get the code,” he said when everyone had stopped moving and there was silence.

“What guarantee do we have that you'll let us go once you have the code?” Eugene asked.

“You have my word,” Javier said.

“What's that worth?” Eugene said, staring at his wife and daughter; fifty feet away, but not yet out of harm's way. The Glock weighed heavy in his waistband and his hand itched to go for it and put two or three well placed slugs in Rastano before the guards could react.

“I told you I wouldn't hurt them and I didn't. Ask them.”

Eugene looked their way and Julie nodded. “They treated us fine, Eugene.”

Eugene stood on the grass, surrounded by armed guards with automatic weapons pointed at him, his wife and daughter and his friend. Finally he nodded and said, “All right, Javier, you win.” He dug in his pocket and retrieved the paper that Pablo had written on. He handed it to Javier.

“Watch them,” Javier said. “I'm going to make sure this is correct.”

He disappeared into the house for the better part of ten minutes, then returned a blistering shade of red. “Nine hundred million dollars was transferred out to another account four hours ago. What would you know about that?”

“Let's call it my insurance policy. You get one hundred million dollars today. Two years from this date, you get another one hundred million. Another two years, another one hundred million until the entire nine hundred million has been repaid. If anything happens to me or any of my family, the transfers stop.” Eugene stared at the Colombian. “You didn't think that I would just give you the entire amount on the spot, did you?”

Rastano had calmed, calculating the length of time to recover all the money, and the rate at which it was coming back in. A hundred million every two years was almost a million a week, and that was hard to argue with. He took a couple of deep breaths and asked, “How do I know you'll release the hundred million every second year?”

Eugene returned his stare, his blue eyes unblinking. “You have my word,” he said.

A toucan cawed, but every other living creature in the garden held their collective breaths. There could be acceptance, or there could be a bloodbath. Javier finally cracked a smile and held out his hand. “All right, Eugenio Escobar, you have a deal.”

They shook and Julie and Shiara ran across the grass and fell into Eugene's arms. He held them tighter than he'd ever held anything in his life. Teams streamed down his face as he kissed Julie and ran his hands through Shiara's hair. Pedro dropped his gun and walked calmly over to his friend. Eugene, with his arms still wrapped around both women, just shook his head at the sight of his friend and smiled.

Even one word would have been overkill.