Chapter 32
32
A lejandro walked down the hospital hallway with a bouquet of red roses in his hands. A patient and two nurses turned in his direction as he passed.
“Lucky lady,” the patient said.
“Damn, he’s fine. Lucky lady indeed,” one of the nurses murmured loud enough for him to hear.
He kept walking though the comment made him smile. He entered Camila’s room and found her seated on the bed with her doctor standing before her.
“There he is,” the male doctor said when Alejandro entered. Dr. Snow was dark-haired and in his mid-thirties, with a youthful face that made him appear closer to a high school student than an adult.
Camila beamed at Alejandro, her eyes lighting up—which was the best gift he could ever have. Seeing his woman safe and sound after her ordeal was a relief and filled him with inordinate gratitude.
“Are those for me?” she asked, already extending a hand.
“Of course.” He handed them over and gave her a quick kiss.
“Thank you, baby.”
She had arrived at the hospital with a concussion. Initially, the doctors said she could leave after twenty-four hours, but a persistent headache forced them to keep her an extra day to monitor for signs of a serious brain injury. After an improvement yesterday, they approved her for check out this morning.
“I was telling Camila what I want her to do when she leaves here, so I’m glad you arrived to make sure she adheres to my advice,” Dr. Snow said.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she does,” Alejandro said.
Camila rolled her eyes at him, but he knew she’d listen to the doctor’s orders.
“Rest is the most important part of ensuring a quick recovery,” the doctor began, his voice grave. “No strenuous physical or mental activities, which means taking a few days off from work. I want you to rest. I can’t stress that enough. If you find the headaches return, you experience dizziness or blurred vision, I want you to come see me or go to your primary care physician. Ease back into normal activities. Stay hydrated, and eat plenty of good, healthy food.”
“If I do get a headache, can I take a painkiller?” Camila asked.
“Something like Tylenol is fine, but stay away from ibuprofen. Otherwise, you should be good to go.”
A nurse rolled in a wheelchair for Camila, and she sat down.
“I’ll see you in two weeks for a follow-up,” Dr. Snow said.
“Yes, doctor,” Camila said, hugging the bouquet to her chest.
The nurse pushed her through the door, with Alejandro about to follow, but the doctor touched his arm to get his attention. He handed him a business card. “This is a local therapist. I offered Camila the information, but she refused and insisted she was not having any issues. What she went through, being buried alive, is a very traumatic experience. If she’s really fine, wonderful. However, she could have delayed trauma, resulting in nightmares or experiencing feelings of claustrophobia. She might want to talk to someone then, and Dr. Rice is wonderful. Even if Camila doesn’t use her, I would strongly encourage her to see someone.”
Alejandro examined the card. “Thank you.”
“No problem. Have a good one.” Dr. Snow slipped out the door ahead of him, and Alejandro hurried to catch up to Camila and the nurse.
After checkout, he pulled up in her purple car, and they headed to the house. “How are you feeling? ?Estás bien? ”
“Yes, I’m fine, but I feel as if I’ve lived two lifetimes in a short period. It’s crazy.”
Alejandro held her hand.
She squeezed his fingers. “You saved me,” she said.
“I didn’t do it alone.” Since he hadn’t had a chance to explain everything to her before, he told her how his fellow agents had flown to Vegas on short notice to help.
“All that trouble for me?”
“ Por supuesto . I needed you to stick around for selfish reasons. You haven’t made camarones embarazados and frijoles charros for me yet.”
Flinging back her head, Camila laughed, a sound filled with happiness and lots of relief. “That’s a good reason. I guess I better make those dishes then.”
“Once you’re rested, I expect you to.”
They pulled into the carport, and he walked around to her side of the car and lifted her out.
“This is not necessary,” she said with a laugh.
“The doctor said no strenuous physical activity.”
“I can walk, Jandro.”
He ignored her arguments and let them into the house where he placed her on the sofa. He had hired cleaners, and the faint odor of disinfectant remained in the air.
Crouching in front of her, he held her hand. “I want to ask you a question.”
“Okay,” she said slowly, looking a little worried by the seriousness of his tone. She placed the flowers, which she hadn’t put down the entire time, beside her.
“I want us to get married right away. I do not want to waste any more time apart, but my life is in Georgia. Would you be willing?—”
“Yes!” She flung her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. “Yes,” she said more softly, her voice trembling.
Alejandro moved to the sofa and held her close. “I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you too.” She gazed up at him, her eyes liquid with tears.
He kissed her gently. They had a lot of time to make up for. He didn’t want to spend another moment apart from this woman.
Her stomach growled, and they both started laughing.
“Are you hungry?” he asked, smoothing her hair back from her face.
“Starving,” she admitted.
“What do you want to eat? I went shopping before I picked you up. We have steak, chicken, or I can make sandwiches…?”
“A sandwich is fine.”
“One sandwich for my fiancée.” He kissed her nose and went into the kitchen.
“Fiancée. I like the sound of that.”
In the kitchen, he removed the bread, deli meat, and fixings to make sandwiches. As he worked, Camila turned on the television and flipped through the channels. He had just finished when she stopped on a local channel broadcasting a press conference for none other than Javier Reyes. The billionaire limped to the podium.
Camila gasped. “He’s out on bail?”
Alejandro brought the sandwiches and drinks over on a tray and placed them on the table.
“Mr. Reyes, what do you say to people who think you should not have been released with such serious charges against you?”
Javier wore one of his tailored suits, this one black with a striped blue and white tie. “I say that in this country, you’re innocent until proven guilty, and I look forward to my day in court.”
“Is it true that you buried someone alive on your property?” another reporter yelled.
A faint smile touched his lips. “Of course not. That would be a monstrous thing to do. Let me be clear, none of these allegations are true. I knew nothing about the organ harvesting taking place at the Community Care Center. Dr. Shapiro and I were friends, and I invested money in his business purely as a result of our friendship, to help him during a time of financial need. Had I known he was involved in something so… heinous, I would have turned him in to the police myself.”
“What about the accusations of bribery and rumors of evidence taken from your house which prove your involvement in other illegal acts?”
His features tightened in annoyance. “Nothing but rumors and allegations—a hatchet job orchestrated by my enemies. I’m being framed—I believe through the use of A.I. manipulation.”
“He can’t be serious,” Camila muttered.
“I’m a respected businessman who employs thousands of people, and I contribute to the local economy. I will be vindicated in court, and when I am…” He looked directly into the camera, his voice cold and unyielding. “My enemies will suffer for trying to tear me down. Every single one of them will pay.”
A man who looked like he could be his attorney placed a hand on his shoulder. “That’s enough for today. Thank you.” He directed Javier away from the media, who continued yelling questions at their backs.
The camera captured Detective Slater in the audience. He watched them leave with an impassive face and his arms folded over his chest. He was an asshole, but he wasn’t a crooked cop. Since Alejandro learned Slater was on the right side of the law, The Cordoba Agency team had arranged an anonymous special delivery to him at the police station, which included all the data and files they had collected at the compound.
“What do you think he meant when he said his enemies will pay?” Camila’s eyes were wide with fear, and the pulse at the base of her throat beat faster.
“Tough guy talk. He needs to worry about his pending charges,” Alejandro answered. He pulled her into his arms. “Don’t be concerned about him, okay?” He smoothed a hand down her soft hair.
She squeezed him tight but a tremor ran through her. Her heart was beating so fast, he thought it would burst through her chest. She was terrified.
He couldn’t stand to see her so afraid, but more importantly, he couldn’t tolerate her life being threatened. He didn’t for one minute believe Reyes was bluffing. He would seek revenge on them, and Alejandro almost lost Camila once. Time to make damn sure such a close call didn’t happen again.
The best time to strike is when the enemy least expects it. That was one of the lessons Alejandro learned as a youth. First from his gangster father, then from the training in the Plan B program.
His expertise in explosives meant not only understanding the technical aspects of what they could do, but how and where to source the weapons he needed. He hadn’t been able to do that when Javier arranged Camila’s kidnapping because time was too short. But he had more time to plan and pull together his resources over the course of a few days after the press conference. With a four-hour round trip drive to a small city in Arizona, he met a reputable contact and collected everything he needed.
Now, his work was almost done. He stood before Javier Reyes, who was tied to a chair in front of the doors of his mansion. He had arrived with a security team of two at the end of the day. He hadn’t replenished his full security in the days since he’d been arrested, and Alejandro knew with his guard down, this was the best time to strike. He shot Javier’s guards with tranquilizers and stuffed them into the trunk of the limo. Then he put a gun to Javier’s head and told him what to do.
“You’ll never get away with this!” Javier snarled, rocking in the chair in a vain effort to get loose.
Alejandro almost laughed at him. He didn’t seem to understand he’d met his match, and like Javier, Alejandro was equally capable of killing without remorse.
He lit a cigar with deliberate ease and took a slow drag, letting the sweet aroma of the smoke curl around him in the waning light. He savored the smell and taste of the one vice he allowed himself. As he exhaled, a sense of calm came over him. He was in control. Javier would not win. He would never hurt anyone again. Certainly not Camila.
“Men like you never learn,” he said. “Even when you are in prison, you will cause problems. I like to think of myself as the problem solver.”
Alejandro had placed explosives all over the house and other buildings on the property. He hadn’t had a project this big in a long time, and he was semi-hard thinking about the explosions about to rip through the property and destroy Javier’s pride and joy.
What made his plan so much sweeter was knowing he had timed everything perfectly. Javier would live long enough to see the destruction of his palatial home before the final blast wave ended his life.
“This is your last chance to express your regret for the life you have lived. For the people you have hurt. If you do, maybe God will show you mercy in the afterlife.”
“Express my regrets for what? If you’re talking about the organ harvesting, I provided a service. I helped people.”
Alejandro wasn’t shocked by his answer. He never expected him to apologize.
“ Adiós , Javier.” He started walking away.
“Where are you going? Where the fuck do you think you’re going, Sanchez! Get back here! Get back here you son of a bitch!”
As soon as Alejandro walked through the tall iron gates, he pressed the detonator in his hand. A loud boom came from the back of the property, followed by successive booms blasting like thunder in the desert.
He stopped at the car he’d rented, safely out of the range of the coming blast wave. Leaning back, he crossed his feet at the ankles and watched his handiwork through narrowed eyes while he finished his cigar. Flames shot upward as C-4 charges and plastic explosives ignited and sent shockwaves through the air, lighting up the sky.
When he’d seen enough, Alejandro climbed in the car and took off for the lights of Las Vegas before the police arrived. He passed by Javier’s parked limo near the foundation of a demolished house near the compound. When he arrived in town, he’d make an anonymous call and notify the police the guards were in the trunk.
Cranking up the radio, he relaxed in the seat for the drive home to his future wife.