by Brad Taylor
Before Pelón could respond, Booth interrupted, saying, “Okay, we’re ready to make the transfer. I just need Gamal to input his account and password, and I need you to use your token.”
Annoyed, Pelón glared at him, and Booth shrank back. Pelón said to the Ghost, “I’d like to talk to you again. After we have completed our business. I have so many questions.”
The Ghost nodded, keeping his face neutral, wondering if the others understood Pelón wasn’t all there. Wondering if the man was completely insane. It didn’t matter, as they would soon be done, but unlike Farooq, he sensed the danger within Pelón. A killing instinct that was barely contained, like a vat of acid held in place by masking tape, the liquid dripping down.
He tapped in his account information, then watched as Pelón pulled out a digital device, read a number, and tapped that into the computer. When it was done, Booth said, “How much?”
Looking at the Ghost, Pelón said, “How much does he have?”
“Close to two million dollars.”
“Then that’s what it will cost.”
The Ghost said, “Wait, I was told one million.”
“The price has changed. Unless you don’t want it. I’m sure it’s worth much, much more than that to others.”
Farooq tugged his sleeve. “It is worth much more. Pay it now and I will talk to my people about reimbursement.”
You mean after I’m dead? The Ghost decided he would enjoy killing this ingrate liar but knew his escape hinged on turning off the GPS. Money was something he could always get. He still had the real Gamal’s credit cards for a head start.
“Okay. So be it.”
Booth completed the transaction and opened his own laptop, going through a biometric authentication, turning off his security traps, and establishing a connection with his two GPSs and the cellular Wi-Fi. When it was complete, he began showing the Ghost the various dials and switches on the screen, describing each one. He turned the final dial, detailing how it affected the timing signal, making it the heart of what would generate the false locational data. His words took a moment but finally sank into the Ghost’s brain.
“Wait, wait. I thought this device turned off the GPS signal. Isn’t that what I’m paying for?”
Booth said, “No, it renders GPS devices here on the earth inoperable by sending a false timing signal. In effect, it causes them to think they’re somewhere else.”
“You mean it tricks the receivers here? Instead of shutting them off?”
“Yes.”
The Ghost felt sweat pop onto his neck as his heart rate skyrocketed. The ankle cuffs are going to think they’re outside the boundary.
He said, “We don’t need to test it. If that’s it, let’s transfer the system to our computers. We’re taking too much time here.”
Farooq said, “No, no, it’ll only be for a few seconds more. Show him the car on your GPS.”
Out of options, the Ghost snaked his hand into his pants, found the panic button, and triggered it, pressing it over and over. He said, “Wait, before you do, explain to me again how it works.”
Booth started to say something, and Farooq cut him off. “Who cares about the science? It works. Watch.”
And he hit the enter key.
The Ghost saw the car disappear, then reappear in Canada. And felt both cuffs begin to vibrate. He felt a colossal urge to run, but he knew it would do no good. He had three minutes before both feet were amputated. Farooq said something that came out as white noise.
Farooq spoke again, then touched the Ghost’s sleeve. “Gamal, are you okay? Look, now the car is back where it is supposed to be. See? You can control how far it moves as well as how long.”
The Ghost felt the vibrations cease in both cuffs.
He took a deep breath and said, “So all the GPS receivers are working again?”
Booth said, “Yes.”
He jammed his hand back into his pants and hit the first button, the nonpanic one, in an attempt to stop the assault he knew was coming.
Farooq continued. “Show him how you can do it without Wi-Fi. Show him the delay.”
Booth said, “If I want, I can set up multiple strings of outages for as long as I’d like.” Using the laptop track pad, he turned another dial, saying, “For instance, I could shut off just the GPS receivers in Mexico for five minutes, then set the entire constellation to go out permanently in twelve hours. Now, if I were to hit enter, we’d get two outages of varying degrees and varying lengths of time.”
Farooq said, “That way, you can set it when you have Wi-Fi, but it won’t release until you’re away from Wi-Fi.”
The Ghost was pressing the nonpanic pager button again when Mr. Pink and a woman he didn’t recognize rounded the far side of the stone temple. He heard noise behind him and saw Mr. Black and an African-American closing from the opposite direction.
Pelón took one look at the woman and leapt to his feet, pulling a gun from inside his jacket. Farooq slammed the lid on Booth’s laptop with his hand still on the keyboard, drawing a howl. The GPS screen went blank.
And the Ghost felt the ankle cuffs vibrate again.
62
Sitting at a corner table inside the small museum cafeteria, Jennifer said, “I find it ridiculous that I’m out here while Knuckles and Blood get to roam around the museum. They don’t care one bit about what’s in this place.”
I said, “We’ll come back when this is over.”
She said, “I have a degree in anthropology. This is one of the largest anthropology museums in the world!”
I started to say something when my phone buzzed for the second time, meaning the meeting was over.
That was quick.
I looked at my screen and felt a jolt fire down my spine. Next to me, Jennifer said, “Pike, he just alerted.”
I said, “Let’s go,” just as my radio came alive, Knuckles and Blood confirming the worst. Something had gone horribly wrong, and my beautiful plan was turning to absolute shit.
With the five-man team I had — well, four men and a woman — I was hard-pressed to accomplish both primary tasks of capturing the American hacker and taking down the device he’d created. Whoever had picked the place of the meeting had done a pretty good job. The anthropology museum was wide open, with multiple halls and levels in addition to a plethora of outside exhibits. On top of that, it had a large security presence to prevent theft and damage. Enough to preclude any shenanigans from either side during the sale of the device.
I’d decided to wait until after the sale, allowing the men to split up and leave the museum, with the Ghost alerting us when the meeting was over, triggering surveillance. I’d left Decoy outside in an SUV, giving us some flexing options should we need to mount up, and tasked Knuckles and Blood with tracking the American. Jennifer and I would take the device and the Hezbollah crew, along with the Ghost.
I wasn’t comfortable allowing anyone else on him, feeling he was my sole responsibility, and was glad the assignments had already been decided by our previous actions. Whoever we had chased on the rooftops of Tepito would recognize Jennifer and me, but they hadn’t seen Knuckles or Blood, meaning they could conduct a proper follow. The downside was they couldn’t identify the targets like we could, as we had no photographs or anything else. I wasn’t too worried, though, because the guy who had the American was definitively strange looking and would be easy to spot. All they had to find was a devil dragging a Caucasian.
Allowing them to split up and leave was a risk, but I didn’t like the odds of successfully conducting an assault inside the museum, then escaping with an American in tow. Especially if we were going to leave some dead bodies behind. Too great a chance of compromise inside a treasure that Mexico valued highly.
And now I was being forced into it.
Speed-walking through the open courtyard, Jennifer took the first left she could find into the exhibit area, weaving through the displays but not moving fast enough to draw stares. I went through our options an
d began coordinating the assault, shifting mission focus from what I’d given previously.
“All elements, all elements, priority is the device. I say again, priority is the device.”
Knuckles said, “Coming in from the west. Copy you want to forget second target?”
Jennifer reached a large glass door and we were through, into the garden area full of old relics and temples. I said, “Roger. Good copy. If we can, we’ll take him, but the device has priority.”
We rounded a temple and I saw the Ghost sitting with three other men. The one on the end reacted first, and I recognized the devil from Tepito. He raised a weapon and began firing. Jennifer split right, behind a stone head, and I went left, diving into the protection of a brick wall. I rose and saw the American running full out toward the museum, screaming, with his arms over his head, the devil firing at his back. I snapped two rounds, hitting the devil in the upper body and causing him to drop the gun. But it didn’t put him down. He whirled and sprinted into the temple behind him.
I focused back on the table, seeing Knuckles and Blood closing on the Ghost and one other man running through the trees toward the fence that fronted Paseo de la Reforma Avenue. Blood broke left, into the temple, and I leapt up, reaching the Ghost at the same time as Knuckles.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jennifer take a knee, pulling security toward the museum. Knuckles closed down the other half of our circle, facing the direction the other target had run and getting a status from Blood on the radio. I turned toward the Ghost, who was lying on the ground.
I jerked him to his feet, pointed at the two laptops on the table, and said, “Is this it? Which one is the device?”
He screamed, “No! Farooq has it. The man running toward the road.”
I dropped him, turned to Knuckles, and said, “Go.”
He took off and I began coordinating, “Decoy, bring the vehicle down Paseo de la Reforma. Precious cargo is on foot, headed to the fence. Interdict him. Blood, Blood, status?”
I had barely gotten the words out of my mouth when he rounded the corner of the temple. “Both guys are in the crowd. I never saw the American, but the other guy is headed to the entrance. You want me to move to the front?”
“Negative. We’re getting the device.”
The Ghost grabbed my arm. “It’s running. He’s initiated it.”
Shit.
I said, “Let’s go. Jennifer, get on the Ghost. Get him out of here.”
We began crashing through the foliage and I heard the Ghost shout something at my back. I ignored him and continued on, huffing into my radio. “Knuckles, what do you have?”
His answer came back the same way, as if he were panting it out. “He’s at the fence. He’s climbing. I’m not going to reach him before he’s over.”
“Decoy, Decoy, status?”
“I’m coming. I’m coming. I got him when he clears the fence. Pike, the GPS in our car has gone haywire.”
Blood had left me behind, running through the woods like a deer. He closed on Knuckles and I heard, “He’s over. Decoy, Decoy, he’s over.”
“Roger. I see him. I see him. He’s coming to the road about a hundred meters up.”
I said, “Stop his ass. Run him over if you have to.”
I saw Knuckles ahead, halfway up the fence, Blood leaping up right behind him. I sprinted as fast as I could, hearing the worst.
“Pike, Pike, he’s got help. A car just hopped the curb and he’s in it. They’re mounted now.”
Interdict the car? Have Decoy slam into them?
“Can you stop them?”
“Not right here. I’ve got cars in between us. Knuckles, I got you. I’m ten seconds out.”
I leapt onto the fence and said, “Pull over. Pick us up.”
I flipped to the far side, hung for a split second, then dropped to the sidewalk, seeing Knuckles and Blood diving into the vehicle. I sprinted to the open door and heard a pop to my rear, at the museum, as loud as a gunshot fired right next to me. I crammed into the back of the SUV, Decoy hit the gas, and Knuckles said, “What the hell was that?”
I said, “I don’t know. Get moving.” Then it dawned on me.
Oh man. The ankle cuffs. The GPS thinks he’s out of the boundary.
For a moment I couldn’t concentrate because of what I’d done to the Ghost. I’d promised him safety, and I’d maimed him for life instead. Quite possibly killed him. That’s what he was shouting when you ran away.
He was a terrorist, but he was also human. He was my charge, my responsibility, and I hadn’t thought through what would happen if they initiated the device for any length of time greater than a simple five-second test.
The SUV jerked to the left, slamming my body against the door and bringing me back to the mission. Decoy said, “See that yellow sedan? That’s him.”
“Get on him. Knock him off the road. Everybody, the device is running. Don’t waste time trying to subdue anyone. Interdict the car and kill all inside. Find the device and shut it down.”
I called Jennifer, “Koko, Koko, what’s your status?”
I got no response. “Koko, Koko, status?”
I felt a sour, nauseous sense of dread. She was on the Ghost when his cuffs had gone off. Please don’t let her have been hurt by my stupidity.
63
Jennifer watched Pike and Knuckles race into the woods, then turned to the Ghost, putting her front sight post on his head.
“Get up. Now. We need to clear the area.”
He screamed, “The device is on! It’s on!”
“I know that,” she snarled. “Get your ass up, now!”
“My cuffs are going to blow. The POLARIS protocol has tricked them into thinking I’m somewhere else!”
Jennifer heard the words and took a step back, wondering if he was lying. She knew from personal experience the man was deadly and wicked smart.
The Ghost looked at her and pleaded, “Please… take them off. I’m running out of time.”
Pike had ensured that every member of the team held a key that would unlock the cuffs in case emergency action was necessary, just as every prison guard had the ability to unlock their charges. But doing so would release the Ghost into the world without any controls. Something akin to opening the cage of a wolf inside a nursery.
She knelt down, keeping the barrel of her Glock on his head, the suppressor wobbling from the adrenaline. She touched the ankle cuff on his right leg and felt it vibrating. She leapt back.
“How long? How much time since they started?”
“I don’t know. Please, don’t let this happen. I won’t hurt you. I’ll follow you wherever you want. Do whatever you say. Just don’t let this thing maim me.”
She instinctively wanted to help but now had a second dilemma: If she tried to remove the cuffs, she could have her hands blown off because the time ran out.
She looked into his eyes, enlarged through the thick glasses he wore, and saw despair. Along with resignation. He thinks he’s doomed. He believes nobody like me will help him. Believes I want him to suffer.
She laid the Glock on the ground and ripped through her pockets for the key. He sat up, an incredulous expression on his face. She knelt down, frantically working the circular laser key into the right cuff. She got it off and flung it far into the woods. Hands shaking, she went to work on the left cuff, wasting precious seconds getting the key inserted. She twisted, and the lock refused to move. Her brain screamed for her to run, screamed that the fuse was reaching the end.
She jerked the key left and right without result, then took a deep breath, willing herself to relax. She pulled the key from the lock, blew on its grooves to remove any blockage, then reinserted it, the clock in her head now banging in a crescendo.
The lock turned, releasing the cuff. She snatched it away and threw it backhand over her body. It went seven feet from her hand and exploded, the shock wave slapping into her head. She felt a stinging pain in her shoulder and rolled on the ground.
She heard nothing in her ears but ringing. She sat up and found the Ghost standing above her, holding her weapon.
The last thing she saw was the barrel of the heavy suppressor coming at her temple.
64
Decoy jerked the wheel to the left, swerving around the last car that separated us from our target. I stopped trying to get Jennifer on the radio, focusing on the immediate mission.
Paseo de la Reforma was a four-lane boulevard in this area, with the inbound lanes separated from the outbound by a median ten meters wide and lined with trees. He could only go straight, the thoroughfare a channelized kill zone.
Decoy said, “Got stopped traffic ahead. Pedestrian crossing.”
I saw the right-side window of the sedan come down, and a man hung out with a pistol, firing our way. Decoy shouted and I flattened onto the seat, fighting with Knuckles and Blood to get as low as possible. I heard the windshield pop, the safety glass spiderwebbing from multiple rounds. The salvo done, Decoy snapped upright.
I got an up that nobody was hit, then strained to locate the sedan but was unable to see anything because of the spiderweb of cracks in the windshield. Decoy was driving with his head held just above the steering wheel, looking through a spot of clean glass.
“He’s hopped the curb, using the crosswalk.”
I hung my head out the window and saw the sedan plow into two people, flipping them over the hood before they spilled back onto the brick walkway. The sedan reached the far side and whipped around in front of the traffic stopped on the eastbound side, pedestrians screaming and diving out of the way.
“Follow him!”
We hit the curb at speed, the jolt bouncing everyone inside. Decoy kept the pedal buried, looking like a little old lady crouched behind the wheel, threading the path the sedan had created. We hit the east side before the light changed and found ourselves behind the target, nothing between us but road. Decoy swung into the lane and began to gain with each passing second, our horsepower greater than the sedan’s.
