Jazmin quickly shut off the phone she used as an alarm clock. Ethan had returned an hour before from night shift and was sleeping soundly. His clothes lay in a heap beside the bed, weapon in its holster on the nightstand. As she got out of bed she wondered if the pistol would have made a difference in yesterday’s confrontation, but decided not. He might’ve shot one robber, but the moment she was caught he’d have given up. Quietly she collected her clothes for the second day of the conference and, after a quick shower, dressed. Fitting an earring, she returned to the dark room and saw Ethan reach out to her.
“Come to me, please.”
Jazmin knelt in front of the bed to meet Ethan’s lips for a soft kiss. “Well, captain?”
“I’m sorry about my reaction yesterday. I had all night to think about it and... you’re right. I shouldn’t agree with Walter, though his argument was sound. I went with you because I wanted to. We just had bad luck.”
She caressed his cheek, then fumbled with the second earring. “It’s not right that Walter decides on our lives while we’re off duty. He lives for his job and expects all of us to do the same. He’s not your boss twenty-four hours a day.”
“I know. I told him that.”
“You did?”
“I told him we had a life.” He pulled her close for a more intimate kiss. “I want that life, princess, with all that comes with it.”
“Hmm, can’t wait to get back. Sleep for a while, my tough hero. I’ll see you this evening.”
“No, I’ll be there before the SecState meets with the Iranian delegation.”
“I didn’t know that.” When Ethan arched his brows she understood. “Oh, Walter changed plans to have more security, and you’re the one taking the blame.”
“I got the short end of the stick, so to say.”
“Sorry.”
“I can handle it.”
“What about Cam’s intuition? Did he talk with the embassy employee?”
“He couldn’t find him at the embassy or his apartment. Though there’s no substantial indication for a crime, Walter decided to break into his home, but police didn’t find any hints that Weller’s involved in a crime. Police were asked to search for his family. Of course, we’ll keep our eyes open.” He touched her hand before she stood. “You do that, too. Report to Cam or Walter if you see anything out of the ordinary.”
“I know what to do. I’m married to a bodyguard.”
* * * *
Ethan leaned back against the cushions of the limousine and wiped his eyes. Knowing Walter was punishing him for disobedience didn’t change the fact he was tired. He had to be on high alert in forty minutes, reinforcing the team on the sixth floor of the conference center. Trying to get fully awake, he opened the notebook and stared at the floor plan, memorizing the details. He knew his action was superfluous. He could walk through the corridors blind and know where to find exits and elevators. The difficulties arose from the delegation. The bodyguards were advised to be thorough and yet respectful. Walter had ordered through clenched teeth that frisking the members should take a short time and not leave the impression they were being treated as terrorists.
He looked through the window, watched the houses pass by, and hoped the embassy employee hadn’t planned any mischief. Cameron’s report had been short, including a statement by the ambassador, saying Mr. Weller was a reliable clerk without flaws or bad habits. He had been married for a long time and no one knew of anything out of the ordinary about him. If he was blackmailed or threatened, there were no hints in his office. His nervousness close to an important conference was known and more belittled than taken seriously. By now security officers were checking his emails and going through telephone data. Ethan had no hope they’d find anything useful.
A face on the other side of the street caught Ethan’s attention. “Slow down!” he shouted at the driver, who immediately hit the brakes.
“Anything wrong?”
“Just drive slowly.” Ethan stared at the man he identified as the boss of the robbery, the man who had pressed a knife against Jazmin’s throat. He was strolling down the street, looking back and forth as if searching for someone to meet. Ethan took out his cell phone and told the captain of the tourist police where to find the gangster, including a detailed description. “Okay, got it. Move on.” He checked his watch. He would be on time, but without a minute to relax before the meeting started.
* * * *
“Ah, there you are!” Gutomar pushed his overweight body out of the armchair to welcome his friend. He patted his back briefly and stepped back, smiling. “Haven’t seen you around for a while. How’re you doing?”
“Could be better.”
“Better?” Gutomar sat down again, offered the other armchair to his friend and a drink to have a toast. “Cheers, Señor... What was the name now?”
“Cisco.”
Gutomar laughed so hard his fat belly shook. “Ah, Cisco! How can I help you, Señor Cisco?”
“I need a favor, your help, your people—all of it, and right now.”
Gutomar’s laughter died abruptly. “Did anyone ever accuse you of being blunt?” He coughed when the rest of the vodka stuck in his throat. “I mean, you always come to the point, but this is hard stuff, even by your standards.”
Cisco bent forward, looking his friend in the eyes. “I’ve always treated you fair. We call each other friends. Now’s the time to prove it.”
“Oh, come on! I think I’ve done quite well so far.”
“Never mind. I made a deal with Lucio Morales and—”
“Lucio Morales? The Pitbull from Lima? The brutal gangster? Are you nuts?”
“He can do something I can’t do. Well, not right now and the matter’s urgent.” Cisco pierced him with his look. “Now, will you help me?”
“First, name what you want.” Gutomar put down his glass, frowning deeply. It was true he called this man a friend, but he wasn’t sure whether he was the same man he had known years ago. Cisco radiated an eagerness bordering on obsession. He tended to outbreaks of irrational behavior if he didn’t get what he wanted. Gutomar didn’t feel well and would only relax the moment Cisco left the compound.
“I need a part of the territory with everything in it and on it.”
Gutomar stopped breathing. His heartbeat sped up and his face reddened to a degree no longer healthy. He couldn’t swallow and feared he’d faint any second. He had a tight grip on the armrests while his heart beat like a ram against his ribcage.
“Do you hear me?” Cisco opened his eyes wide, ignoring his friend’s misery. “I need your answer now.”
“A part of...” Gutomar forced his breath to come and go. He didn’t want to appear weak, and yet his words came out hoarse. “You want my territory?”
“No. That’s not what I said.” Cisco ran both hands through his hair, fingers spread as if praying for understanding. “I said I need a part of the territory. For a short time. Just to blindside Lucio and make the deal. After that you can come with your men and claim it back with force and kill him. I don’t mind. But only after I’ve got my package.”
“Package?” Gutomar croaked and reached for his glass to find it empty. “You’re talking about something valuable? Something that’s worth a part of the coca plantations? You must be kidding me. Pay him money!”
Cisco shook his head and refilled his glass and Gutomar’s. “No. I tried. Unfortunately that man’s got enough money not to be tempted. He only accepted to force me to give him more. He wants influence in Colombia.”
“I bet!” Gutomar took the glass from Cisco. “But I won’t let him rule southern Colombia! It’s not gonna happen.”
Cisco growled in his throat and appeared to have trouble reining in his anger. He bent forward, eyes so wide Gutomar saw the fine red lines in the white. “You don’t understand. I need that package. I don’t know how he did it, but he claims he already has it. That is—and I don’t exaggerate—something I hadn’t expected so fast. His connections must be excellent. And he’ll only deliver it to me if he’s given control over the southern fields.”
“Yeah, so he can flaunt his ass on my houses and labs and enjoy the profits! What did you drink this morning? Something that changed reality for some fantasy movie plot?”
“More like a horror show,” Cisco grumbled. He swallowed and put down the glass. His gaze was no less intense. “Believe me, I don’t like the idea either. But what shall I do? You must frame him really good.”
Gutomar took a deep breath, emptied the glass, and put it back on the table. He was relieved his old friend didn’t jump and throttle him to push the matter. He settled down more comfortably again and arched his brows. “Maybe I can help you get the package.”
* * * *
“I thought you were the one keeping contact with our insider, Sami, and making pressure!” Navid checked the magazine of his submachine gun with more force than necessary while he kept the cell phone between his ear and shoulder. “If we don’t know their way, we won’t be there, don’t you think?”
On the other end of the line Sami sighed, and his voice bore the same patronizing undertone Navid always heard from elders in the organization. “I know. He just needs more time.”
“And what do you propose? Twiddle our thumbs until we know?” The SMG landed hard on the table, and he looked around the sparsely furnished room. It was time to leave the hideout and do something. His companions looked up, irritated. Navid knew they were getting restless, and restless men were hard to handle. “The conference ends tomorrow evening.” He gazed at the plans they had made. Lima’s major streets were listed, as well as possible points of interception. Two of his men were discussing cars and velocity.
“We still have time! There is no need for impatience.” Sami spoke slowly and reassuringly. “They won’t fly out of Lima until the morning after the banquet. We know the schedule from all the press releases, and they won’t miss that last evening.”
“Still, we don’t know the route the convoy will take today. We must place the cars before the meetings end!”
“We’ll have our cars ready, don’t worry. You got the ammo?”
“Yes. It’s all here.” Navid eyed the boxes with cartridges critically. “You sure it’s AP?”
“It’s armor piercing, for sure. I tested it. The limousine won’t withstand it.”
“What about police escort?”
“Four men on motorcycles. They’re not our problem. The bodyguards are.”
Navid didn’t trust Sami’s simple denial of the potential threat the policemen posed. He ran a hand over his hair and emptied the fourth bottle of water. He wanted the job done, more than anything else, but not to lose his life. He wanted to enjoy the chaos they created and the hasty and absolutely useless measures taken afterward when they were already far away.
“How many today?”
Sami’s confidence appeared to drop a notch. “Ten. Three cars in the convoy.”
Navid swallowed his nervousness. He had known the attack would be difficult, but hadn’t counted on ten defenders, fully armed and very aggressive when it came to the one man they protected. The elders had made it sound so simple! He turned away from the others in the room and regained his composure while Sami went on.
“We’ll position enough men left and right of the street. They don’t have that many choices to get back. Once we’ve stopped them, we’ll shoot from all sides. The windows will shatter, and before they’re ready to return fire, they’ll all be dead.”
Navid didn’t dare utter doubts about their men’s effectiveness. From what he’d learned, all of Sami’s men were ready to give their lives for the common goal. Any word of distrust, doubt or open objection would be eyed with great suspicion. Trained to obey and be self-forgetful, they didn’t question plans. Only men like Navid dared to think and realize the elders were sometimes more interested in setting an example than getting their goal. “Why not use a bomb? It’s much—”
“No, it’s not easier, and it’s not effective,” Sami interrupted heatedly. “We talked about that! The limousine’s got a fortified bottom against grenades. And you can’t throw a bomb and just hope it’ll hit. We proceed as planned.”
Navid wiped his face and stared at the guns and ammunition on the wooden table. He knew Sami expected a confident answer, but the words didn’t come easy. “And we’ll win.”
* * * *
Jazmin was affected by her husband’s constant alertness. She was by far more aware of all the people around than before her contract with the Secretary of State. She knew no one expected her to be as observant as the security personnel, and yet Ethan’s drill had left her with the ability to recognize changes easily. She looked through a magnifying glass without ever being asked to. When she saw Nathaniel Weller on the hallway of the next floor she quickly looked away, giving him the impression he hadn’t been spotted. Instead of trying to get to him on her own, she slowly walked closer to Ryan.
“The embassy’s employee, Weller, he’s up on the next floor. Ten o’clock. Just leaving.”
Ryan remained professional. No nice banter, no joke about her choice of words. He spread the information quickly and told Cameron to get to the man without raising suspicion. He nodded his appreciation to Jazmin and went on with his duties. Jazmin remained behind, for the moment unoccupied. Lennis was running behind the secretary, trying to bring him up to date with the latest press material and information he’d received from the participating countries and their delegations. The main summary would be made later at the hotel. Jazmin didn’t look forward to going through miles of protocol papers and writing a summary version for Nolan, but it was part of her job.
“Weller used his phone and escaped. We’ll be on him,” Ryan reported to her.
She jerked back. “Ryan, don’t sneak up on me. I really don’t like that.”
“My apologies. Cameron was right. There’s something cooking, and we all have a bad feeling.”
“The meeting with the Iranians went well, I heard,” Jazmin said, stowing some papers in her notebook bag. “So where does the nervousness come from?”
“Weller told no one what he was doing. He disappeared, obviously sent his family on vacation, and then showed up again here, today, as if nothing had happened. That’s damn suspicious. And as long as we can’t nail him for interrogation, we don’t know who he was talking to and how he could escape the close surveillance.”
“Are you sure he already left the building?”
Ryan arched his brows. “You mean he’s hiding in a cooking pot?”
“I mean he knows the building inside and out, like you. If he’s been blackmailed by someone—or works for someone—he’ll have taken precautions in case of emergency. The building’s closed off. No one comes or leaves without being checked. So if he wants to go unseen he either needs a hideout or means to change his appearance and leave as... a cook, to stay in the picture.”
Ryan spoke with Walter and Jazmin heard the chief order Cameron and Ethan to search for Weller without alerting all of the security personnel.
“No truck or anything else left the garage,” Ryan said quietly. “And Weller didn’t check out at any exit. You might be right—he’s still around.”
Jazmin gazed over the throng of people roaming the floors and the main meeting hall. If Weller was helping enemies of the state in some assassination attempt, he would know where to hide to not be found.