The Rebel: The new crime thriller that will have you gripped in 2018. Jaime Raven
the day,’ Miguel said. ‘They are now at a restaurant on Avenue Escencia. The place is busy and the two are sitting next to a window with a view of the ocean.’
Rosa had seen photographs of the two men and had committed their faces to memory. They were both in their early thirties and were known as a pair of brutal enforcers whose speciality was torture.
‘Is there anyone looking out for them?’ she asked.
He nodded. ‘There’s one minder. A few minutes ago he was sitting on a wall to the left of the entrance. He’s wearing a dark suit and if he moves I’ll be informed.’
Rosa was impressed. It was always good to know well in advance what to expect.
‘I’m taking you to a side road a few hundred yards from the restaurant,’ Miguel said. ‘We’ll be there in about ten minutes. It’s where the motorcycle you requested has been parked. Everything else you asked for is in the trunk.’
‘Sounds good,’ Rosa said, looking at her watch. ‘With luck it’ll all be over within half an hour.’
Rosa was driven to a narrow, unlit road that looked as though it was rarely used. There were no properties nearby, and the darkness was oppressive, as though it carried weight.
A motorcycle was resting up against a hedge. It was an old Honda Cargo 150 and the engine was still warm. Rosa had been riding motorbikes for years and she was familiar with the controls.
Miguel handed her the key and said, ‘It was picked up earlier today and is in a very good condition.’
From the trunk of his car he took out a helmet, a one-piece leather motorcycle suit, gloves, and a small rucksack containing a Glock 19 machine pistol and a commando knife.
Rosa slipped into the suit and heaved the rucksack onto her back.
Miguel then told her how to get to the restaurant and she mounted the bike.
‘I wish you luck, Miss Lopez,’ he said. ‘But I am sure that you won’t need it.’
The restaurant was set back from the main road and was clearly a popular establishment. The lighting inside was subdued and there was a parking area in front with about a dozen cars.
Rosa spotted the bodyguard straight away. He was sitting on a low wall smoking a cigarette and he was the only person in sight.
She brought the bike to a halt against the kerb just a couple of yards away from him.
He stood up stiffly to attention as she dismounted. She’d already removed the commando knife from the rucksack and with her back to the guy she unzipped her suit top and reached for it with her gloved hand.
She then used the element of surprise to her advantage by whirling around and rushing at him.
Before he could react she plunged the knife deep into his stomach with a fierce upward thrust.
His eyes ballooned in their sockets and he staggered backwards, allowing Rosa to withdraw the knife and stab him in the chest. It sent him sprawling over the wall and onto a patch of grass where his body convulsed in a death shudder.
She then threw the knife onto the ground next to him and took the pistol from the rucksack, which she simply discarded.
Without a moment’s hesitation she burst into the restaurant. It was about half full and there was soft music playing in the background.
Heads turned towards her as she strode across the room with her pistol arm raised. But she stayed focused on the two men at the far table next to the window.
As soon as they realised what was happening, they both jumped to their feet, which made it less likely that Rosa would miss them.
She took aim and let loose with the machine pistol. Amid screams all around her she watched as the bullets tore into her victims, spraying blood over the window and the white tablecloth between them.
Both men hit the floor like bags of cement and she shot them several more times for good measure.
Then she turned around and fired a few more rounds into the ceiling so that none of the customers or staff would be tempted to approach her.
But she needn’t have worried because those who hadn’t already dashed out of the restaurant were cowering under the tables.
Outside, she dropped the gun, mounted the bike, and with a screech of rubber she made her escape.
It was another job well done and she was pleased with herself.
Five minutes later she was back in the car, having removed the helmet and leather suit.
She told Miguel that it had gone without a hitch and that the two Los Zetas enforcers were dead.
‘Carlos will be pleased,’ he said. ‘You did well. Now I will take you back to your hotel.’
‘I’m not going back yet,’ she said. ‘I want you to drop me off at a nightclub that you know will be lively tonight. I need to wind down.’
His response to this was to laugh.
‘You are a strange one, Miss Lopez. I’ve never known anyone to want to party straight after committing murder.’
Rosa ignored him and looked out the window. She didn’t need someone to tell her that she was strange. After all, anyone who made a living killing people could not, by any stretch of the imagination, be right in the head.
But it was OK because she was happy with herself and life was good. She was never troubled by the constraints of a conscience or the burden of a moral compass. It made everything so much easier.
When she was detained in a juvenile detention centre after her first murder she saw three counsellors and they all agreed that her traumatic childhood was to blame for her damaged soul – as if that hadn’t always been strikingly obvious.
‘There’s a nightclub I can recommend,’ Miguel said. ‘It’s always busy, especially in the run-up to Christmas.’
‘Then take me there,’ she said.
On the way she phoned Carlos as arranged.
‘It’s done,’ she said. ‘You’ll have no more trouble from those two.’
‘You are a star, Rosa,’ he said. ‘I knew I could trust you not to let me down.’
‘I’ll stay over tonight and head back in the morning.’
‘Well, actually there’s been a change of plan,’ he said. ‘You’ve got a new assignment. It’s in London of all places and there’s a big bonus in it for you.’
‘How big?’
‘Half a million dollars.’
‘That’s a lot of money, Carlos.’
‘This job is special, Rosa. And you could be there for a while.’
After he’d filled her in, she said, ‘I’ve always wanted to go to London. When do they want me there?’
‘Tomorrow. So you’ll need to get moving. We have a private jet on standby at Acapulco airport. Flight time to Mexico City is just over an hour. There’s a British Airways flight to London at eleven ten. A first class ticket’s been reserved. Think you can make it?’
‘Of course.’
‘Good. Then buy whatever you need at the airport or when you get there.’
Rosa’s job for the cartel involved a lot of travel, usually within Mexico and the States. But in recent years she’d also had assignments in Canada, Columbia and Brazil. This would be her first trip to Europe and there was no way she was going to turn it down.
‘Call me when you’re in Mexico City and I’ll give you more details,’ Cruz said.
After hanging up she told Miguel that she’d be going back to the hotel