Hunters - Matt Rogers (good novels to read TXT) 📗

El Salvador recently about the president returning the country to authoritarianism. Apparently he’s “politicising the military,” but that’s a joke, because it’s always been that way. There was never a “return.” In the past it happened behind closed doors. Money makes the world go round. Torres owns a staggering amount of El Salvador’s real estate. Critical infrastructure — all the malls, all the tourism, a decent chunk of administrative buildings that the government rent from him. He can turn it all off with the snap of his fingers. If he wants something done, it’s done.’

‘And you got him back in America’s pocket?’

Antônia nodded slowly. ‘I made him see the light.’

‘It’s completely done?’

Another nod.

King said, ‘So how are you justifying staying here?’

‘With the excuse I’m sure you wanted to use back when you were working.’

King thought about it. ‘That you’re crippled by stress, fatigued and exhausted beyond comprehension, and you need some personal time to put your feet up and forget about what it is you do?’

Antônia smiled. ‘Spoken like a man who knows what that feels like.’

‘And it’s true, I’m sure.’

‘Of course it’s true. That’s how it feels after every op. But what do we usually do?’

From the back seat, Slater said, ‘Suck it up.’

‘There you go,’ Antônia said. ‘It’s in the job description. That’s what it feels like twenty-four hours a day. But every now and then we can pull that card. I’m at my limits. I’m broken. Use someone else for a couple of weeks. I’ll be back soon.’ She turned to King. ‘Did you ever try that?’

‘I thought about it. I didn’t think they’d let me. And I was young and dumb.’

‘How so?’

‘I thought “broken” was something to aspire to.’

She dwelled on that. ‘So did I.’

For a long time no-one spoke. They’d been travelling northwest from San Salvador for half an hour. The journey was smooth, but the weather was something to behold. The tropical storm never seemed to end, the rain battering down no matter how fast they raced up the highway. They couldn’t outrun it, and it made for a wholly unimpressive look at El Salvador’s beautiful countryside.

Nothing was visible aside from a thick wall of grey, swirling with cloud and mist and falling rain. All they could see was the road ahead and the headlights of the cars behind them.

Especially one set of headlights.

Which drew closer and closer until King locked onto them, recognising a threat.

Antônia noticed. ‘What is it?’

‘That jeep,’ King said, squinting in the side mirror. ‘It’s been on us for a while.’

‘Hold on.’

Antônia slowed until they were several miles per hour under the speed limit. Barely noticeable to other highway-goers, but if the jeep was a tail it’d have to overcompensate unnaturally to stay behind them.

The jeep slowed.

King said, ‘Looks like they didn’t trust the Armed Forces to get the job done over here.’

Slater said, ‘Why didn’t they just stall the plane at McCarran?’

‘Because we would have sensed something was wrong. Airport security or the LVMPD … those are the last people the secret world wanted to rely on. They needed to get hunters to McCarran, or at the very least Special Forces soldiers with automatic weapons. They couldn’t do that in time, probably because they only picked up the fact we were flying out less than an hour before we departed. All they had were plainclothes — maybe TSA, maybe cops — to replace the few passengers who were boarding. Men and women they could rely on to at least get out of harm’s way when the Armed Forces came aboard and arrested us when we landed.’

‘Yes,’ Slater said. ‘I put all that together, thank you. What’s it got to do with who’s behind us?’

‘The real muscle were only an hour or two behind us, tops. How long were we in custody for?’

Violetta said, ‘Two hours, give or take. I timed it as best I could.’

‘There you go,’ King said, twisting in his seat to get a better look at the jeep. ‘They’ve chewed up our lead.’

Antônia said, ‘Hunters?’

‘You’ve heard of them?’

The colour leached from her face. When she spoke, her voice was quieter. ‘I’m from Alonzo’s side of the secret world. The semi-respectable side.’

‘And the other side?’

‘They’re not the sort of people you want to piss off.’

King said, ‘That’s exactly what we did. We pissed them off.’

54

Antônia’s face was a pale sheet of unrest.

King contorted in the passenger seat, squinting out the rear windshield.

Slater had apprehensions.

He said, ‘Who’s to say it’s not the Armed Forces?’

‘It’s not,’ Antônia said, fighting to keep her voice level. ‘They’ve been explicitly instructed to leave us alone.’

‘Torres could have flipped.'

She shook her head emphatically. ‘Whatever’s happening, it’s not that.’

King’s stomach tightened. ‘What exactly did you threaten him with?’

‘I told you. Nothing you want to know about. But you can be sure he won’t double-cross.’

‘Salvadoran paramilitary?’ Slater suggested, making out the gloomy silhouette of the jeep on their tail. ‘From in-country?’

‘I doubt it.’

King said, ‘Then it’s them.’

Antônia’s face paled to a ghastly mask. ‘Oh, God.’

She violently took an exit off the highway, and the jeep followed them.

As the Nissan whined with exhaustion, King said, ‘We’re not going to lose them in this.’

‘I’m sorry I couldn’t get my hands on a supercar,’ Antônia snapped.

‘Easy.’

She reined it in as she swerved onto a narrower road that weaved through a town called Sitio del Niño. King spotted the name on a faded sign drenched in water. He stared out at small barrios, industrial developments, and gloomy fields.

‘Where are we?’ he said, uncomfortable with the desolate atmosphere. At any point they could hit a dead end, barricaded in as the jeep bore down on them from behind.

‘We’re going the long way.’

‘Why?’

‘Because it’s a straight shot on the Carretera Panamericana all the way up to Santa Ana. They can stay on our tail the whole way. I know the land. We can take the backroads up north to San Pablo Tachachico and then cut west to Santa Ana. Plenty of places to lose them on those trails.’

The trails in