Divide & Conquer (29 page)

“There’s a reason the CIA don’t want you to talk to anyone, you’ll gain from this.”

“Fuck it!” Gandolini senior pulled the form towards him again and continued reading. “What the fuck, 20% of additional profits to be paid into an offshore account!”

Smith nodded his head. “Additional!” he emphasized. “Get it? This will make you more money.”

Gandolini senior smiled. They had no idea how much he made, it was an empty condition.

“Fine!” he said waving his hand for Smith to give him a pen.

Smith didn’t give him a pen, instead he slipped a note across the table, a number written clearly on it.

Gandolini senior looked at the number and recognized it easily. It was the profit he had made the previous year, not the profit that everyone including his son thought he had made but the real one, the one with all the action that nobody knew he had a piece of.

“Fuck! How did you get that?” asked Gandolini in awe.

“Mr Gandolini, you are fucking with the big boys now, we know everything. Rest assured, we know what the additional take will be, failure to keep your end, will result in termination of contract. You don’t want that. So if you sign, remember your end! And junior, when you step in for daddy, this continues!” he warned handing over the pen.

“Additional on top of this?” he queried pointing to the number.

“No, additional as a result of what we do today. If one of your other businesses tanks, you don’t offset against this. We clear?!”

Gandolini nodded. “Crystal!” and signed the form. Jimmy followed his father blindly and signed his.

“Excellent, next stop. Mexico!” announced Smith, retrieving the signed contracts and checking his watch. 3pm in New York. 2pm in Laredo and it was just over three hours flight time. They would land just after five!

Chapter 55

Mike had sat for three hours as he waited for a chance to speak to Vincent. He needed to bring him up to speed. Jane had worked wonders on Sean’s requests. In fact, probably too well. There were a number of points that were probably going to see Vincent back in hospital when he found out what had been done. Partly Mike’s fault, he had made it clear to Jane that having Sean back was a matter of National importance on a scale not seen since the darkest days of the cold war. Jane, taking Vincent’s stress into account and his resultant heart attack, believed Mike and did whatever it took, no matter how distasteful the consequences to clear the way for Sean to resolve his problem.

The only positive was the 20 percent take that would help fund some of the CIA’s less public activities. Something that Mike was sure would temper at least some of Vincent’s anger.

“You can go through now, Mr Ritter,” offered the consultant, his tone clearly unhappy.

Mike walked into the room and was shocked to see how pathetic Vincent looked. Just four hours earlier, he had been the powerful, untouchable and impressive boss of one of the CIA’s most powerful and important divisions. Now he was an old man in a hospital bed, wired to a gaggle of machines, beeping and blipping almost continually. An oxygen mask covered his mouth as if even breathing were beyond his capabilities.

Vincent smiled weakly and pulled the mask aside. “Mike,” he struggled.

Mike smiled and suddenly realized he was on his own. There was no way he could bring Vincent up to speed in his current condition. Hearing what he and Jane had done would most likely kill him.

“Some good news,” he offered. “Sean is OK!”

Vincent nodded slightly. “That boy’s invincible, didn’t doubt he wouldn’t be.” He waved Mike closer.

“Get me out of here!” he pleaded.

Mike stepped back and looked at him like he was mad.

Vincent lifted his hand and caught Mike’s arm and with the strength of a paraplegic pulled him closer again.

“They’ve pumped me full of drugs! There is too much going on, my mind needs to be clear!” he struggled to form half of the words.

“How are you, Mr Black?” announced the doctor loudly as he entered the room.

Vincent let go of Mike and looked him directly in the eye. Vincent’s stare was as deep and as intense as ever. His mind was working just fine, the link between his mind and his actions were the problem. The medication.

“Fine,” replied Vincent.

“Hmm,” scoffed the doctor as he checked the charts and readout. “You have had a heart attack, I’m not sure I’d define that as fine!”

“Doctor, when will Vincent be fit to leave?”

“The first twenty four hours are critical. If he makes it through that and with no complications, I’d say maybe a week or so!”

“I’m not sure we can manage without him for a week!” Mike was being egged on by Vincent, behind the doctor’s back.

“No,” the doctor laughed. “That’s out of hospital. He won’t be back at work for the next six weeks. You’ll need to work out how to manage without him!”

Vincent pulled a face behind the doctor’s back that had Mike biting his tongue not to laugh. He wasn’t sure Vincent would be able to remove it quickly enough should the doctor have turned around.

One thing was very clear, they needed Vincent back and from his antics, he needed to be back. However, there was absolutely no way Mike was going to argue against the twenty-four hour critical period. Jane, Sean and himself were on their own at least until the next day. He just hoped none of them ended up in prison before Vincent could protect them and even then, he might even decide to put them in prison himself.

Chapter 56

Sean looked hopefully as Luis tried the number again. Jane had given Sean an update, three flights would be arriving between 5.15 and 5.45 at Quetzalcoatl International Airport, the airport that served the Mexican side Nuevo Laredo. He had taken Luis back across to the empty house, the CIA equipment was still in the loft and he did not want to risk Katie overhearing anything.

Luis nodded, Juan had answered. Finally. It had been over an hour.

Luis spoke quickly in Spanish and from his demeanor, Sean knew it was not good before he ended the call.

“Five pm!” Luis shook his head despondently as he said it. He knew Juan would not change the time. Once Juan had said 5pm, no matter what, he would never back down. In his eyes it would show weakness.

“Did you tell him I’ll turn the planes around?”

“Yes, he said that would be a mistake!”

“A mistake how? He has nothing else!” said Sean, a knot forming in his stomach. “Fuck!”

***

With more than thirty years service in the force, Sergeant Hector Martinez was looking forward to his retirement. He had already found a small home by the beach near his ancestral Mexican home. His American pension would go much further South of the border and allow him a far better standard of living. With only a week and counting, he was not going to be rushing towards any dangerous calls.

A few calls had come in throughout the day from the Lakeside area. Each time a car had been dispatched but it had quickly been recalled by the senior despatcher. Martinez had a fair idea the despatcher was working for somebody that wanted something covered up which, around these parts, was the cartel. The power of the cartels had grown exponentially over the last few years and Martinez was delighted he was getting out. He had had enough and seen enough for a lifetime. Ten years ago, he would have been marching into the dispatcher’s office and arresting the son of a bitch but not anymore. With a week to go, he was keeping his head down.

The call that diverted himself to Lakeside was not a welcome one but one that he could not refuse. He was still on the payroll and had to obey. He took it easy as he drove down the street. A few people were around but there were no obvious signs of a disturbance. Whatever the calls had been for earlier that day had obviously been resolved. After a few tours of the area, he spotted his opportunity. The two men had come out of the address and walked across the street. He drove to the end of the block and watched; one week was all he could think. Don’t get yourself shot Hector, he told himself.

He gave it another five minutes but he was delaying the inevitable. He selected 'Drive’ on the gearshift and drove towards the house. The new hybrid cruisers allowed for almost silent driving at speeds less than twenty, the tiniest of hums announced his arrival at Katie’s house. As he exited his cruiser, he kept his eyes peeled on the house across the street. As he stepped up to the front door, his hand reached automatically for his gun. The door was riddled with bullet holes. He eyed the door across the street, still no movement. He knocked on the bullet-ridden door, careful to avoid the splinters. The footsteps announced the arrival of the lady of the house, the sharp crack on the floor was a heel no man would wear.

“Mrs Fox?” inquired Sergeant Martinez.

“Yes,” she offered tentatively, conscious of exactly how the door must have looked.

“Would you mind coming with me, Ma’am?”

“Why?”

“Your son!’ said Sergeant Martinez.

Katie Fox’s face fell, fearing the worst.

“No, no, he’s fine. I’m going to take you to him!”

Katie rushed from the house and jumped into the open door of the cruiser. “We just need to pick up Sean, he’s over there,” she said, beaming from ear to ear.

“No problem,” he smiled, shutting the door and hitting the send button on the text message he had already drafted. The smile was a very warm smile, a smile that had just received a cash boost of $50,000 dollars into its pension fund, courtesy of Juan Cortes of the Los Zetas cartel. Sergeant Hector Martinez had survived the last ten years because he knew who had the power and the money. The small house by the beach was listed at $4.5 million, Cancun wasn’t the cheapest place to live but with the money he had made over the last ten years and stashed offshore, it was a steal.

***

He sprinted out of the empty house just in time to see the taillights of the police cruiser. He rushed across the road, bursting into Katie’s house, almost removing the door from its hinges.

“Katie!” he shouted, over and over. Nothing, the house was empty.

Luis caught up. “What? What’s happened?” he asked panting.

“The reason Juan didn’t answer! He was waiting to hear his guys had snatched Katie!” Sean punched the wall in frustration. “Fuck!” he screamed.

It was almost 3pm, just over two hours until James would be killed. His mother would survive as long as Sean delivered the contacts, not that she’d want to. Sean wasn’t certain but the loss of James might tip her over the edge. He had failed, allowing Juan the extra leverage had put him in the driving seat. He could show how serious he was by carrying out his threat knowing Sean would still deliver in order to save Katie. Otherwise, he may have had to back down and agree to a change of timeline. Katie changed everything. Luis was right, Juan was smart. There was however one thing that Juan hadn’t factored into his little masterplan. Sean!

Chapter 57

Sean tightened the strap that held the Ka-Bar knife holster against his thigh. He cocked the MP-5 and chambered a round, just as he had with the Gyurza. Sean had found the Russian pistol surprisingly good and had opted against the Glock.

“Describe the ranch again!” he instructed Luis as he snapped more ammo to his belt. The CIA packs had held enough gear to start a small war, which was just as well as it seemed from Luis’ description it was going to take at least that to pull off the rescue of James.

As Luis eventually finished describing the list of defenses, Sean couldn’t help but feel he should just strip the gear off and forget the whole idea. It seemed El Jefe had covered every angle. That was of course if Sean could even trust what Luis was telling him. Ultimately, Luis was only playing ball with Sean in order to retrieve the drug trade that had dwindled since the untimely demise of Sean’s lookalike. As the contacts that would save his life with his uncle neared, Sean trusted him less, according to the law of diminishing returns. For Luis there was less and less to gain from pleasing Sean and more and more from pleasing El Jefe and now Juan.

“OK, I’ll come in from the South East wall and will have a few seconds as the sentries patrol behind the white Barn. And James is housed in the small outhouse to the West of the White Barn?”

“Correct,” nodded Luis.

“You know what you need to do?” asked Sean.

Luis nodded.

“Say it,” said Sean.

“I am to arrive at the ranch at 4.45 and transport Juan and my uncle to the secret meeting. I am instructed that we have to leave immediately and will receive communications on the way. I have to inform them that we are being monitored and if we try to communicate or alert reinforcements, the meeting is off. I am to tell them these are the dealer’s instructions and not yours. I’ll try and uncover where Katie is and using the code, let you know when you call. We go to the airport and meet the dealers at 6 pm unless you find Katie first and if that’s the case I drive and meet you at alternate B. Plan B, you kill my uncle and Juan and I meet the dealers myself.”

The last part of the plan was all Sean could think that would convince Luis to give his uncle and Juan up. To say he had jumped at the chance would have underplayed his eagerness to be the boss. It would also prevent a void in power, something Iraq and Afghanistan were perfect examples of why you don’t want to leave somewhere leaderless.

“Our chances?” asked Luis confidently.

“To be honest,” he thought out loud, shaking his head. “Not good.”

Luis laughed, which surprised Sean.

“Better than I expected,” he said, explaining his laugh.

Sean remained silent. He had lied. There wasn’t a chance in hell the plan would work.

Sean and Luis synchronized their watches. It had taken them just over an hour to negotiate the tunnel under the Rio, another one of Los Zetas’ supply routes. From there, a short hike to the nearest road and with Luis’ scary contacts, a ride into Nuevo was secured with little effort. Sean kept his head down and the weapons well hidden in their packs. Once they had secured their own ride, Sean had started to kit up in the back.

“Four thirty, in 3, 2, 1, check,”

“Check,” said Luis in time with Sean, having been well trained in time checks over the previous hour.