Chicago Vendetta. Don Pendleton
the drug kingpin a long time before taking his seat.
The gaunt man presented a withering smile. “My reference to your sister is not intended as a threat. Rather a reminder that I’m the provider of your rather lavish lifestyle. It would take only a single phone call to certain persons within your department for all your perks to come crashing down around your ears.”
He took a seat in front of Esparza, and this second smile bore more cruelty than the first. “Now that was a fucking threat, Mr. Esparza. You see, if you’re not for me any longer, then you are against me. And I’m not a person you’d want for an enemy, believe me.”
“I don’t even know your name, friend. How could I be any threat to you?”
“Fair enough. My name is Shalib Grec and I can be, to coin an old Americanism, either your best friend or your worst nightmare.”
“What do you want?” Esparza asked after a beat.
“Much better. I want you to find Hillman and Rusch and kill them. Simple. Just kill them. You’ve killed people before.”
“I’ve killed scum.” Esparza let his eyes flick toward Madera ever so imperceptibly. Or so he thought.
“Careful, Mr. Esparza.” Grec waved casually at the drug dealer. “Mr. Madera is a valued associate, and I would not take kindly to anyone who had an issue with him. It’s probably no secret that I hate your kind.”
“You mean cops.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. But you’ve proven a useful ally in my war on the police in this city. When I’ve achieved my final objectives, I will leave here and you will neither hear from nor see me again. And the bonus is I’ll let you live to a ripe old age.”
“What guarantee do I have of that?”
“Have I given you any reason to doubt my word so far?” Grec asked, arching an eyebrow and wrinkling the scar. “I’m a businessman, Mr. Esparza, plain and simply. I’m not interested in killing you, because you are insignificant. And because Mr. Madera has told me you may be of additional use to him. So you see, we have a deal. You do as you are told, and when our mutual business is concluded, I let you live.”
Esparza downed the remainder of his drink and looked at Madera, who nodded.
“It’s true,” the drug dealer said.
Esparza looked at the video still paused on the faces of two cops he’d known for years and had, until just that moment, considered friends. “Hillman will be easy. I can find out what hospital he’s in. Rusch may be more difficult as I need to get her alone. Isolated.”
Grec stood as he replied, “I will leave the details to you. I don’t care how you do it, or where. Just that it’s done.”
“It’ll be done by tomorrow night,” Esparza replied.
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