Evan’s Android rang and he jumped.
His brother was calling.
“Hola?”
“Como estas?”
“Sigo vivo. Hand-off tonight.”
“Anything I can do?”
“Pray.”
Evan hung up, put his helmet on, fired up his bike, and zoomed off.
Nathan sat alone in his jet, drinking coffee. His team was gone, his pilot and copilot were out in Juárez having lunch. He was nervous and kept listening to updates from his men in the field.
No one knew where Evan was.
Nathan cursed. He feared that Evan was working for the CIA and that maybe he was out to find and kill him. He had hoped that the unstable agent was dead.
“What the hell are you doing here, you bastard?”
Nathan had not confided in anyone about his fears and thought hard about how to either kill Evan or weave him into his bigger plan.
Nathan thought about the consequences of the CIA being on to Dark Cloud; would they interfere?
Nathan stood up and clicked on a surveillance photo of Evan getting on a motorcycle.
Nathan heard his secure satellite phone buzz and jumped for it. It was Reo.
“Yes?”
“Hola, boss!”
Reo sounded upbeat and cocky. Nathan did not like him much but was glad that he had him on his side.
“Report, Reo?”
“The team is evacuating. The Rosa family is en route to the airport. They are leaving the country.”
“Good. At least one thing is going right!”
“Aw, what is wrong, boss?”
“Where to begin?” Nathan complained. “We have lost the man who was running the submarine deal—died when an electrical fire broke out. Key component of this operation.”
“How’s the sub?” Reo asked, unconcerned about the death.
“Fixable. We are behind schedule.”
“We can use one of our other operatives, sir. We will have time at the base to sort this all out.. Tanya is still behind enemy lines. She will present another issue.”
`Nathan clicked through photos of Evan and felt his blood pressure rise.
“Does Tanya know her man is dead?”
“She will, sir. She is a key player in this. I have confidence that everything will go as planned.”
“Bullshit, Reo. Your optimism is not helping.”
“Aw, boss, c’mon, cheer up. You will have Gerard!”
“True.”
“And the American?”
Nathan chewed on his lip. “Don’t have time to worry about him. Evan is his name. If he is CIA and here for us, we could be screwed. Can’t kill him. They will send more.”
“Nathan, I have never heard you like this. Are you OK?”
“No!”
There was silence for a few moments, and Nathan began to feel foolish; he was losing control.
“Sorry, Reo. I think we are going to pack it up, get Gerard, and haul ass. We have much to do. We need someone to take over the submarine deal. What was his name? Gotta break the news to Tanya.”
“His name was Ivan, Russian gentlemen.”
“Yes, deal with it later.” Nathan picked up a small bottle of Bacardi, opened it, and poured it into a Diet Coke.
“Nathan, I know you. You are obsessing over this Evan guy, this American. C’mon, you are a chess player; think!”
Nathan drained his coffee. The little bastard, Reo, was figuring him out. “Continue, Reo.”
“So what if he is CIA? Maybe he is not. What if they help? Remember The Godfather?”
“What?”
“Love American movies, Nathan. Remember the famous line: ‘Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer’?”
Nathan clicked on another surveillance photo. This one was of a man whom both he and Evan knew from the past. This photo bound the two of them together and could prove as tempting as a queen left unguarded.
“Andre Pena!”
“Sir?”
“Andre Pena. He was released from a Colombian prison one year ago. He is here now working for Mario and the Eastern Cartel!”
“I don’t follow you, Nathan.”
“You are brilliant, Reo! Andre Pena. The bomb maker who killed Evan’s family! He is here in Mexico!”
“Well?” Reo sounded pleased.
Nathan stood up and then sat down. He looked for his walkie-talkie. “Reo, I have to go.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Get everyone to the safe site!” Nathan felt his heart race and his mind sharpen. “Every defeat is an opportunity.”
Evan looked around his hotel room and got into character. He spoke out loud to himself after he turned on the TV.
“OK, here it goes. You guys want to play games? Fine.”
Evan turned on the laptop that Mr. Z had given him. He hooked the kidnappers’ sparkly pink cell phone to it via a USB cable. Next he removed a small, collapsible satellite dish from a bag and made sure he had a decent connection. Within five minutes the cell phone’s call history was on the screen, and he was looking at a real-time map of Juárez, complete with cell phone towers and a series of numbers.
“Got you, bastards.”
He triangulated where the kidnappers had called from and narrowed it down to a city block. They had most likely called from one of several businesses on a local street named Rancho El Becerro. The technology was not new; police and intelligence agents had been able to locate a cell phone, turn it on, and eavesdrop for years. He located the phone and turned it on. He heard nothing but saw a tiny triangle marking its location. The phone was in a building, and within a moment Evan was able to isolate it to within fifty meters.
“People’s Market corner of Rancho El Becerro. A convenience store, eh?” he asked and made some more adjustments. He now had the call history of the phone he was listening to. He used the phones call history to locate it’s most recent calls and then tapped into those as well. Within five minutes Evan saw circles representing twelve cell phones spread out over Juárez. One was across the street from the Walmart, and the others were ten to twelve miles dispersed.
Evan sat down for a moment and grabbed the room-service menu. He ordered a big meal of skirt steak and vegetables with a few bottles of water.
After his lunch, he heard his first cell phone conversation; it was a man speaking with his wife.
Evan switched from phone to phone until he was back at the convenience store. Suddenly, he sat upright.
He grabbed a pen and some paper and made notes. He was listening for two voices he would recognize. Suddenly, he heard two men speaking. It was unmistakably the kidnappers.
Evan put on some earphones and tried to isolate the voices. He listened intently for about an hour and wrote down some names. No one was mentioning anything about a kidnapping or any code, but they were using their names. He paused and began recording the conversation for later.
“Got you!” Evan said and smiled.
“Juan, Juan, relax! You do as planned, sí?”
“I understand, but we must move him now. I cannot have him here when the crazy Frenchman comes back. You no get him. He…he—”
“I get it!”
“Paco, I am not comfortable with this. You being a cop will not make a difference. If he comes back for his girls and finds we are running our own operation, he will go crazy. I have a good job here.”
“Coward. Fine, fine!”
“We must move him.”
“Then move him! Let’s take him somewhere else.”
Evan could not catch much more and cursed. The phone sounded muffled now, as if it were in a pocket.
Evan now knew the name of two kidnappers: Juan and Paco. One was a cop, and they seemed to be in fear of someone.
“Who is Gerard? A rival gang?” Evan isolated the signal. It seemed to be moving. “So you are scared? You are moving Armando?”
Evan waited about ten minutes and watched the signal move and then disappear within the store. �
�No signal? A large storage room?” Evan seemed satisfied. They were more scared and preoccupied with this Frenchman character than with Evan. “Good.”
Evan lay down and placed the laptop on his chest. He listened and half watched TV. He switched from phone to phone and listened to unrelated conversations. At least one of the men had a nagging wife. The other kidnapper, Paco, seemed to be in charge. He was the cop with the dirty mouth. He was obsessed with texting several different females about various X-rated topics.
Evan decided he would play the game and stick to his escape route. The men spoke briefly about the easy money they were about to make and gave Evan the impression it was their first time doing this.
Evan called Gustavo and gave him clear instructions. He hoped the old man listened.
“Look, you need someone with some wits about him to be ready to drive you and your brother across the border. I am going to give you some cash, but you must leave.”
“You are not going to take us?”
“I might, but this is plan B. If I get your brother, then you both go; if not, then just you go. Either way, we are parting ways.”
“I would feel better if you drove us!” Gustavo sounded animated and in better spirits than earlier.
“I plan on it.”
“Sí, I trust you.”
Evan spent the next hour looking over maps on his computer. Once he was satisfied, he called his brother.
People’s Market, Rancho El Becerro Street, Juárez, 1400 Hours
Dark Cloud’s surveillance Team Two consisted of two highly skilled shooters named Raul and Sanchez. They had been given instructions to watch the market and be prepared to storm it once Gerard was inside. Team One was still trying to find an American named Evan, and Team Three had eyes on Gerard at his hotel a few miles away. The men didn’t say a thing as they watched a Juárez cop and the man they knew as Juan, the store manager, escort a blindfolded, elderly man out of the side door and force him in a car trunk.
“What the hell you think is going on with these idiots?” Raul asked.
“Either a sex thing or an execution thing,” Sanchez answered.
“Gotta love this town. I am going to report it to Nathan,” Raul said.
“Team Three says Gerard has not made a move yet. Guess his truck is still not fixed,” Sanchez said and shook his head.
“We will need to move when he shows—too obvious right now.”
“Fine.”
Walmart
Evan parked the black Ford Bronco in a parking space near the pay phone at Walmart. Evan rolled his windows down and listened to the traffic. He spat out of the window and looked at the bag of money in the passenger seat. He drummed his fingers on the barrel of his shotgun, which rested on his right knee. He looked for a good radio station and glanced at the seat next to him. “Wish I had extra hands.”
He found a Mexican poca station and left it on. He adjusted his Bluetooth headset so he could overhear any conversations from the cell phone that he had pinned as belonging to Paco, the kidnapper cop. He did not want to look at his computer screen or even open the laptop. He knew they were watching him. All he could do was wait.
Evan looked at his watch, got out of the truck, and walked to the pay phone to wait for the call. He took the duffel bag of money.
“They could be anywhere,” he said out loud.
He knew they had moved Armando but was not sure where at this point. Evan realized how foolish this whole endeavor was. This is exactly why a whole team is required to do something like this, idiot, he thought.
Evan stood next to the pay phone and shook his head. His stomach had a knot suddenly, and he wondered if he would survive this night. He was scared, and he was glad.
“If you aren’t nervous, you are definitely screwed.”
The pay phone rang. Evan grabbed it—it smelled like smoke and tequila. He put his headphones down around his neck.
A bus squeaked and hissed as it stopped at the bus stop.
Evan watched a crowd of people close in on the school bus. He heard a backfire, a police siren in the distance, and a group of young girls laughing.
“Listen, idiota!” It was Paco’s voice. He sounded tense. “We are watching you. We kill you if you get stupid.”
“I just want Armando. Please, don’t hurt him. His daughter, she is—”
“Shut up! Stupid American! Give the money to the lady in the white cowboy hat. She on the bus!”
Evan looked around the streets and behind him. His stomach tightened, and his eyes narrowed. “What?”
“You have about ten seconds. The bus, idiota! Right in front of you!”
The last passenger had just gotten on, and Evan followed.
“Señor?” the bus driver asked; he had one hand on the handle to close the door. The bus driver looked bored.
“Uno minuto!” blurted Evan. He scanned the passengers, who were settling in their seats, adjusting groceries, and herding children. He spotted a short, round girl in her twenties; she wore a low-cut dress and a massive cowboy hat. She and Evan locked eyes. He held up the bag.
“Señor! Usted tiene que pagar!” the bus driver said.
“Shut up!” Evan snapped.
The girl stood up and moved. She grabbed the bag and went back to her seat.
Evan left the bus and sprinted back to the phone. He saw a police car pull smoothly into the parking lot. It parked a few spaces away from his truck.
Crap, if the spotters see this cop, I am screwed.
Evan tried to get a glimpse of the cop as he picked up the dangling pay phone. He was breathing hard from the stress and told himself to chill.
“OK?”
“Bus six—your man will be on it unless we sense something up. Then he die.”
The phone went dead.
Evan stepped away from the phone and looked at the police car. It parked about one hundred yards away. Evan watched a female cop get out of the car. She went into Walmart.
“Can’t believe this!”
Evan walked back to his truck and sunk into his seat. He wondered if he should try to track the calls and find Armando or wait. Evan rubbed his eyes and opened a bottle of water. He felt like everyone in Juárez was watching him. He decided to test the kidnappers. He put the Bluetooth back on.
Evan started the truck and began to drive slowly through the parking lot. Instantly the sparkly cell phone rang, and Evan answered, “Yes?”
“Where the fuck are you going? I am going to kill the old man!”
“I was just going to go find a bathroom. I am nervous—I must pee.”
“Hold it. Go back to where you were. Do something like that again, I kill you and the man.”
“Yes, please, please don’t,” Evan said and smiled. He tried not to overdo the pitiful routine. I am going to kill you losers, he thought.
He parked in a different spot this time, facing the bus stop and road. He was helpless now, and if they double-crossed him, at least he knew where to go to find them.
Nathan felt sick again. He looked at the reports and picture surveillance from his three teams. Team One members had once again let Evan slip through their fingers. They had seen him return on a motorcycle and then nothing all day. Miguel had lost his patience and had the hotel clerk call his room. He was gone.
“You idiots! You did not want to follow him anyway, so you let this happen! Do this again and you are fired!”
Team Three had reported that Gerard’s henchman had picked up his van, and they were now eating. Gerard and his thugs were joined by ten young men.
“I hope all these guys don’t go to the store together.”
Nathan called Team Two. “Frenchman is now with a total of thirteen bad guys. Could get ugly.”
“Got it, boss. We watched an old man get shoved into a trunk by a Juárez cop and another guy at the People’s Market. The store is empty; we could go in, set up an ambush.”
“Hold that thought.”
Nathan practiced some deep breat
hing and was about to eat his untouched lunch when his phone buzzed. It was Team One.
“Nathan! Nathan, we got him!”
“Who?”
“Evan. You won’t believe this, but, but—” Miguel was talking in a hurried tone, almost giddy.
“Slow down! Let me speak with Francisco.”
Nathan rushed to his laptop and tried to bring up Team One’s position on Google Maps.
Francisco began speaking. “We were on our way to the People’s Market, stopped by Walmart—he was there!”
“Who?” Nathan asked
“He was talking on a pay phone. We watched him. He gave someone on a bus a bag like he was in a hurry. Making a payoff out in the open! Boss, he is in some kinda trouble!”
“W-Where?”
“At the Walmart! Aren’t you listening?”
“Why did you go there?”
“Water, smokes, sodas. It…it doesn’t matter. He is waiting on something! This guy is not a spy, trust me!”
“You are watching him now?”
“Yes, he is doing something, can’t tell, in a Ford Bronco.”
Nathan smiled and then frowned.
“He is a block away from the People’s Market?”
“At the Walmart!”
“What the hell!”
“Boss, we are going to go talk to him.”
“What? No! No!”
“Boss, we have been doing this bullshit all day. This guy is acting erratic. We talk to him and then drive over to the People’s Market. If you know this guy, we will ask him to meet with you.”
Nathan paused. “I don’t know.”
“Boss,” Francisco reassured him, “we will just talk. Friendly, casual, see what happens, feel him out.”
“Be careful.” Nathan thought about what Reo had said. “If the conversation goes well, put him on the phone with me. Just feel him out—do not come across threatening. He may be on a job.”
“Boss, I got this. Whatever he was doing, he is done now.” Francisco sounded very sure of himself.
“You get one shot. Go for it.” Nathan hung up the phone.
He had to make contact eventually. It was now or never.
Silver Lead and Dead (Evan Hernandez series Book 1) Page 9
