“Is that how it normally works?” Nathan asked. “Do your field agents give you the info before Mason?”
“Not usually. In fact, my updates from the field aren’t nearly so frequent as Mason’s, or as detailed. They’re pretty generalized. When Ramiro reported this latest shipment wasn’t being treated like the standard guns-for-money type of deal, I’d expected to hear the same thing from Mason, but he made no mention of it. Since then, Ramiro’s gone silent. I understand why Ramiro has to be careful, but when one of my operatives gives me a prolonged period of silence, I get nervous. I have no idea if they’re blown or just unable to make contact.”
His dad said, “I know exactly how you feel, George. I felt the same way when Nathan and Harvey went on their covert ops. Silence is horrible.”
“That’s the norm in my world. I have to constantly remind myself they can’t just drop what they’re doing and call me on their cells.”
“So what are we going to do?” Stone asked.
“Based on what I’ve learned from all of you tonight,” Beaumont answered, “I’m going to initiate contact with Ramiro right away. I usually hear back within six to twelve hours if I use an emergency code. Sometimes sooner.”
“How do you do that?” Harv asked. “If you don’t mind telling us.”
“Online gaming,” Beaumont said with some pride. “We play a combat video game with other online players. It has the most players of its kind, worldwide. Multiple millions, I’m told. Anyway, we talk to each other in real time using headsets. There’s a lot of teasing and trash-talking. It’s like a community, and we all have monikers. Ramiro uses his own name so it won’t look suspicious. Everyone in Alisio’s cartel knows him by Ramiro, anyway. I’m MGK, short for Machine Gun Kelly. Alisio doesn’t suspect a thing because Ramiro plays the game right in front of everyone. Some of Alisio’s lieutenants play as well. Even Alisio gets online occasionally. He uses the moniker Mr. A. He’s pretty good. He’s killed me a bunch of times inside the game. Just to be safe, I morph my voice. Lots of players do that, so it doesn’t raise any suspicions.”
Nathan shook his head and looked at Harv. “So Alisio and his men have no idea they’re playing a video game with Ramiro’s undercover handler. Remarkable.”
“No kidding,” Harv said.
“We have one-liners we use as code phrases to communicate. If I say the bolt-code phrase during the game, he knows to get the hell out of there ASAP. I also have a normal ‘make contact’ phrase and an emergency ‘make contact’ phrase.”
“Can you do that from any computer?” Harv asked.
“Yes, but I like to use my own because I can mask its IP address. Ethan, if I can use one of your computers, I’ll be able to contact Ramiro a lot sooner. I won’t have to wait until I’m back in San Diego.”
“Come by my office after we hang up. I’ll get you hooked up.”
“Does Ramiro use the same kind of system to contact Mason?” Harv asked. “Online gaming?”
“Yes, but it’s a different game run by a completely different gaming company.”
“It’s brilliant,” Nathan said. “Making contact right in front of the boss.”
“It’s worked well so far,” said Beaumont.
Harv asked, “If Mason rips Alisio off, what does that do to your ongoing investigation of Alisio’s cartel?”
Lansing cut in. “It could screw everything up. Years of work could be lost. We’re an eyelash away from setting up a major sting to nail Alisio and dismantle his cartel. I’ve been working closely with the ATF and PFM, setting everything up. Which makes the timing of Mason’s actions highly suspect. He might be planning to make a move against Alisio before we bring him down.”
“Remind me what PFM stands for,” Harv said. “Policía Federal . . . ”
“Ministerial,” Lansing said. “It’s very much like our own ATF. It’s a federal law enforcement agency under the attorney general of Mexico.”
“Is the sting an ATF operation?” Nathan asked.
“No, it’s a joint task force under the PFM’s command. One of my worries is that Alisio has ears on the inside. It doesn’t take much to bribe someone down there. I’ve had a lot of conversations with the PFM’s director, and he’s a good man. I think he wants Alisio brought down as badly as we do. Alisio’s reign of terror includes the torture and murder of at least five of his federal officers in the last fourteen months. Realistically, the number’s more like ten. All of them died horrible deaths and had Alisio’s trademark, a 10,000-peso note tacked to their foreheads.”
Stone said, “I told Nathan and Harv about the murder of our ATF agent in El Centro with Alisio’s signature.”
“Yes,” Beaumont said. “Mason took Hutch’s death badly.”
“Was it ever sorted out?” Nathan asked. “Do you know how Hutch’s cover was blown?”
“No,” Lansing said. “There’s no doubt Alisio’s behind the murder, we just can’t prove it. Personally, I think Mason got a bum deal. It wasn’t his fault the agent was killed.”
“It definitely wasn’t,” Beaumont said. “Look, I’m not trying to defend Mason. I picked him for the job because he was the perfect choice. I felt bad we were forced to let him go during OEF’s drawdown.”
“Holly mentioned that,” Nathan said. “She told us he was involved in a botched mission at the end of his tour.”
“Holly Simpson?” Beaumont asked. “Your new chief of staff, Ethan?”
“She and Nathan are in a relationship. Holly was with Nathan and Harvey when they saw the bodies on the soccer field.”
“How much does she know?” Beaumont asked.
“She knows who Mason is and some of his history, but she doesn’t know about the November Directive. She’s up to speed on BSI’s pending contract with us, though.”
Nathan said, “I need to state something for the record, Ethan. The delay in reporting all of this to you is my fault. Holly wanted to tell you from the beginning.”
Lansing responded right away. “She’s an extremely loyal and dedicated agent. Everything’s okay between us, so don’t worry about it.”
Nathan wondered if Lansing really meant that. He hoped so.
“Getting back to Mason,” Beaumont said, “I didn’t want to fire him, but keeping him meant the end of BSI. I was told in no uncertain terms to terminate him or lose my contracts with the DOD. At that time, there was considerable heat coming from Capitol Hill to eliminate all PMCs working in Afghanistan, even the noncombat contractors—”
“May I interrupt?” Nathan asked. “What happened? What was Mason’s botched mission Holly mentioned?”
“It wasn’t botched—”
Nathan said, “To be fair, ‘botched’ wasn’t the word Holly used. I think she said, ‘tragic.’”
“It was tragic. The objective was accomplished, but two Afghan women got caught in the cross fire and were killed. It caused a local riot that turned bloody. Several Marines were injured. Command pulled everyone out of the area until things settled down. Those women shouldn’t have been there, especially so late at night without escorts. The whole thing reeked of a Taliban PR setup and, sadly, it worked. Everyone wanted Mason’s head on a platter. I made a big stink and threatened to go public with some classified stuff the coalition had done. I made a deal with the brass. I said I’d accept Mason’s resignation if the incident got lost. Fortunately, they took the deal. If they’d called my bluff about blowing the whistle, I wouldn’t have done it. I stuck my neck out for Mason because none of his gunrunning interdiction ops ever took a single innocent life. They were textbook raids. Some of Mason’s techniques were adopted by the German Army, and they’re still in use today.”
“But you’re only as good as your last op,” Nathan said. He hoped his comment didn’t sound negative.
“Sadly, that’s too often true,” Beaumont said.
�
�I imagine Mason was bitter,” Nathan said.
“He was, but there was blood in the water. He faced an inquiry and possible prison time. I shipped him home and made sure he got a healthy severance package, but he was still jobless. He got employment here and there, but nothing lasted. He became depressed and withdrawn.”
“That’s a common problem,” Nathan said. “Combat vets come home from a war zone and can’t adjust to mundane civilian life. They need physical and mental challenges. It’s difficult for warriors to become nonwarriors.”
“Speaking from personal experience?” Beaumont asked.
“Absolutely. Harv and I know it well. Did Mason drink?”
“You have no idea.”
“Actually, I do.” Nathan saw Harv adjust his weight. Alcohol had nearly destroyed their friendship.
“He’d call me when he was plastered, angry one minute, sobbing the next. I urged Mason to seek counseling for PTSD and managed to get him into an AA program for vets, but he didn’t stay with it. He got a part-time job with a national rent-a-cop company that supplied security for shopping malls, but after two months he arm barred and choked out his supervisor and nearly did jail time. I pulled some strings and kept him out of lockup, but he ended up in the unemployment line again and his drinking got worse. I didn’t know it at the time, but he’d gambled his savings away. He was close to becoming homeless. He’d pick fights with anyone who’d step up.”
Nathan exchanged a glance with Harv.
“When he got arrested for slugging an off-duty cop, guess who he called? I made a deal with him. I told him if he’d permanently lay off the booze, I’d make a call and get him a job, but my offer came with nonnegotiable terms. He’d have to get into therapy with other OEF vets and stick with the AA program for two months before I’d arrange the interview. He came through, and I kept my word. He went to work for a different private military company.”
“You got him a job with one of your competitors?” Nathan asked. “You couldn’t hire him back?”
“The Afghan incident was still too fresh. He was grateful for the help I gave him, but he still harbored a lot of resentment about what happened. Don’t get me wrong: the resentment was one-way. I liked him, and he’d proven he could stay sober.”
“What was his new job?” Harv asked.
“His gun-smuggling interdiction experience from OEF made him a perfect candidate to work as a consultant to federal law enforcement agencies, mostly the ATF. Unfortunately, his new assignment evolved into a disaster. This time the arms-interdiction operations were domestic, mostly taking place on the American side of the border with Mexico. The federal agents he instructed resented him and his cowboy tactics. They looked down on him and didn’t value the military experience he brought. Instead of working in a Wild West, anything-goes atmosphere, he found himself mired in red tape. He wasn’t working with ass kickers, but instead with promotion-hungry ass kissers who feared bad press more than failed ops. And ops did fail, but not because of Mason.”
Stone said, “I told Nathan and Harvey about the aftermath of the JTF raid in El Centro, about the murdered ATF agent. I didn’t know if Mason knew him or not.”
“He definitely knew him. Special Agent Hutcheson was assigned to Mason’s unit as an explosives and IED expert. Hutch was a good man. I personally approved his embedment. Mason and I spoke about Hutch often. I’d planned to offer him a job if he wasn’t happy in the ATF or just wanted a change of scenery.”
“How did Mason get tagged for the blame?” Harv asked. “He wasn’t responsible for blowing Hutch’s cover, was he?”
“No, but before Alisio murdered Hutch, an ATF agent was killed during the raid and several others were seriously wounded. That same midlevel brass concluded the ATF acted too aggressively. Yeah, I know, it sounds ridiculous. They’re shooting it out for their lives and they’re too aggressive? It’s that ass-kisser mentality. I argued that the friendly casualties would’ve been higher had it not been for Mason’s training. The video footage is under lock and key, so I can’t confirm what I suspect is true.”
“You’ll never see it,” Nathan added.
“I’ve concluded the same thing. It was a difficult time for Mason, maybe worse than anything he’d seen overseas. Mason was there when they lowered Hutch from the streetlight. Mason lost control and shoved a TV reporter to the ground. The guy wasn’t injured, but the incident went out on the five o’clock news, then went viral on YouTube.”
“And Mason lost his job again,” Nathan said.
“Yes,” Beaumont said. “I guess I’m telling you all of this because I don’t want you gentlemen to second-guess why I gave Mason another chance.”
“No one here is doing that, George,” Stone said. “I’m assuming Mason didn’t fall off the wagon and start drinking again after Hutch’s death?”
“No, he didn’t and that’s part of the reason I rehired him. By that time, Afghanistan was old news. Scandals only last as long as cameras are present.”
“So what’s Mason’s endgame?” Nathan asked. “Money?”
“Yes, that’s what I’m thinking,” said Beaumont.
“If Hutch was his friend and they shared a combat bond from Afghanistan,” Harv added, “then there’s likely an element of revenge too.”
“The perfect double whammy,” Nathan said. “He ruins Alisio’s deal with the South Koreans and lines his pockets in the process.”
“More than that,” Lansing said. “He also ruins our entire undercover operation against Alisio and the other ND divisions. We can’t let it happen. I’m not just saying that because of the time and money or because the president’s behind the project. Lives are at stake.”
“He’s already taken three lives,” said Nathan. “And attempted to murder four others.”
“All the more reason to stop Mason before things escalate further.” Beaumont sounded genuinely concerned.
“So about this big deal that’s in the works,” said Harv. “Does Ramiro have any idea what’s in the duffel bags?”
“No, but he knows Alisio’s been stockpiling Philharmonics and diamonds. He thinks Alisio’s going to trade them for whatever’s coming in from North Korea. Again, I don’t have specific numbers, but Ramiro’s under the impression it’s a sizable deal.”
“Philharmonics . . . you mean the Austrian one-ounce bullion coins?” Harv asked.
“Yes.”
“It seems pretty clear Mason’s going to make a move and try to raid the exchange,” said Stone.
“So how do Harv and I fit in?”
“We want you to get containment,” Lansing said.
Nathan knew no one would say more than that. “Understood.”
“George needs to initiate emergency contact with Ramiro. Once he does that, we’ll have a better idea of exactly how the exchange is working—and what we’re up against.”
“I assume you’d also like to know whether Mason’s compromised the November Directive’s undercover agents, and you’d like us to . . . ask him about it?”
Lansing didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
Nathan could only imagine what his father was thinking. This was a complete reversal of what they talked about earlier. Nathan wouldn’t say anything; his father didn’t need the additional stress, and it wasn’t in Nathan’s nature to say, “I told you so.”
He did, however, need to voice a major concern. “What about personal liability for Harv and me?”
“You’re covered,” Lansing said. “Stone insisted on get-out-of-jail-free cards for both of you. Since you’re proven assets, I agreed. But your immunity isn’t open-ended.”
“Fair enough.”
“Once Ramiro checks in with George and relays the info to me, I’ll call you and Stone back. I suggest you and Harvey use the downtime to get some sleep; I have a feeling you’re going to need it.”
“We wil
l.”
“George, you look like you want to say something more,” Stone said.
“It’s a long shot, but I think it’s worth a try. All of our company vehicles have antitheft trackers installed. We might be able to track Mason’s movements.”
“I’m assuming he knows that,” Nathan said. “That’s why you’re calling it a long shot?”
“Yes.”
“It’s worth a try. When will you know?”
“One of my sons will have to activate the trackers from our headquarters. I’ll get that going right after we hang up. What’s your cell number? If we get something, I’ll text you the GPS coordinates.”
Nathan gave him Harv’s cell as well.
“One more thing,” Lansing said. “Think of it as my own brand of safety catch.”
“Okay . . . ” Nathan said with some hesitation.
“I’m assigning a special agent to work with you. You might need access to the NCIC database and an FBI badge might come in handy. Chief of Staff Simpson told me she flashed her badge during your ER visit, and it got you access to Mr. Haynes.”
“I appreciate the offer, Ethan, but we prefer to work alone.”
“I’m aware of that.”
Nathan waited for more, but nothing was said. He knew when to be a good soldier and not question orders. “Then the decision’s been made.”
“It has.”
“There’s only one person we trust for something like this.”
“She’s already on her way. Count on about four hours.”
Nathan looked at Harv. “I’m assuming this special agent is from your Fresno field office?”
Contract to Kill Page 23
