Everyone in the room was taken aback. Ling’s eyes went wide, but Ibrahim held up his hands. “Not to fear, my friends. As far as we can tell, our presence here is not known to Sala Jihan or his subordinates. However, a third party has become aware of us.”
“Who?” Ling asked. Though considering this town, none of the options were good.
Lorenzo stepped forward. “The Montalban Exchange.”
“You gotta be shitting me,” I muttered to myself. The Exodus leadership began to murmur to each other.
“As far as I know, it’s just a name. It’s a remnant of the criminal organization that Big Eddie, Eduard Montalban, controlled. The Montalban brothers are both dead, as I’m sure you’re all aware. Valentine back there killed one of them, and he was there when I shot the other one out of the sky. They’re dead and good riddance.” Lorenzo’s normally calm composure cracked slightly; he hated Eduard Montalban with every fiber of his being. The fact that the man was dead gave him little comfort, it seemed, and he could barely conceal his contempt.
People began to bombard Lorenzo with questions. Before it could get out of hand, Ibrahim raised a hand, silencing the room again. “Mr. Lorenzo, why don’t you explain to them what you told me?”
Lorenzo pinched the bridge of his nose, obviously annoyed, but took a deep breath and continued. “A couple days ago I was approached by a representative of the Montalban Exchange.”
“Was it Anders?” I asked pointedly, interrupting Lorenzo. Most of the Exodus leadership, looked at me with surprised expressions on their faces.
Lorenzo looked grim. “Yes.” He must’ve seen my hackles rising. He very subtly moved his hand, quietly telling me to tone it down. I figured he’d fill me in later. He was right. I didn’t need to go airing my grudge with Anders in front of all these people. “So when I say approached, I mean he tailed me, caught me at gunpoint when I made him, and then doped me. I get the impression they’re a shadow of what they were under Rafael and Eddie, but they still seem to have a lot of resources, and they have a big problem with Sala Jihan and they want him dead. They want in on your planned operation. They’re offering intelligence, personnel, and logistics.”
“Intelligence, personnel and logistics?” one of the Exodus leaders asked. “What does that mean?”
“I’m assuming that personnel, means they’ll provide personnel,” Lorenzo said dryly. “I don’t know what they meant by logistics. Maybe supplies, maybe transportation. Intelligence is pretty self-explanatory.”
“Who made you this offer?” Ling asked.
Lorenzo paused for a moment, as if lost in a memory. “A woman named Katarina. I used to work with her, a long time ago. She was on my team. I know her well.”
“How is it that this woman came to head the Montalban Exchange?” one of the Exodus commanders I hadn’t met yet asked.
“She’s absolutely ruthless,” Lorenzo answered. “That’s really all it takes.”
“Can we trust her?”
Lorenzo looked surprised by the question. “What? No. No, no. Not even a little bit. She’s dangerous and violent.”
“Then why should we go along with this?”
“I’m not saying you should,” Lorenzo said. “I don’t give a damn what you people do. I’m just here to find my brother, and I’m just the messenger. If your raid fails, the chances of me finding my brother go from slim to none. But I can think of some reasons why you might want to consider it.”
“What do you mean?” Ling asked.
Lorenzo’s mouth split into a mean smile. “I know you guys think you’re being all secret squirrel and everything, but you’re not. You can’t just put this many people into such a small area and not be noticed. I noticed, and I’ve only been here for a few days. Sala Jihan has been here for a lot longer, and the Montalban Exchange has already compromised you. Also, I haven’t seen your battle plan obviously, but how in the hell are you people planning on taking that fortress?”
“We are working on that,” said Ibrahim.
“I’ve been inside that thing. Do you really think you have enough people? How are you going to get them up there? Do you have good intelligence on Jihan’s compound? Do you know how many men he has? Do you know where they’re all housed, how they’re equipped, where their defensive positions are?”
Lorenzo was met with silence.
“Thought so. The Montalbans say they know. They told me to give this to you people.” He retrieved a folded piece of paper from his pocket, and laid it on the table. The Exodus leadership crowded around to get a better look.
“This is a map showing the interior defensive positions around the fortress,” Ibrahim said. “Including where they house their antiaircraft weapons.”
“Katarina says there’s plenty more where that came from. She says her spies have infiltrated Jihan’s operations. She’s ready to make a move, but can’t do it without you. You’re ready to make a move, and she says you can’t do it without her. Look, people, I’ve been inside Jihan’s compound. I’ve met the man.”
The room became uncomfortably silent.
Lorenzo was unfazed. “That’s right, I was face to face with Sala Jihan at the bottom of his missile silo. He’s not somebody to screw around with. I can give you guys information, but I only saw a little bit, and what I saw told me he’s got a lot more armed motherfuckers than you guys have.”
“What do you know of our strength?” someone asked indignantly.
Lorenzo scoffed. “Please. You aren’t as good at this as you think you are, no offense. I don’t know exactly how many people you have here, or what else you might be scheming at, but I know that Sala Jihan has an army in there, a lot more people and weapons than you people could have possibly smuggled into town. So unless you’ve got an air strike planned or something, you might want to at least hear the Montalbans out.”
“And what does she want in return for our assistance?” Katsumoto asked.
“She wants The Crossroads. With Jihan gone, she believes her group can take control of this place and get a share of all of the business that goes on here.”
“And trade one monster for another?” one of the Exodus leaders scoffed.
“No,” another replied “We’d be trading an actual monster for a mere criminal.”
Katsumoto and Ibrahim looked at each other for a long moment. Lorenzo didn’t know about the plan to assault the dam. Neither did the Montalban Exchange, it seemed. The two Exodus commanders nodded at each other.
“I propose,” Ibrahim said, “that we at least meet with the Montalban Exchange. They have compromised our OPSEC. If we decline the meeting, they could turn on us, or even expose us to Sala Jihan. We must move carefully, lest we be lured into a trap. You all know the gravity of the situation. Our footing isn’t nearly as strong as I would like it to be. We need to be willing to take every advantage offered to us.”
The room erupted into loud discussion. Lorenzo stepped away from the limelight and leaned against the wall. He seemed happy to no longer be the center of attention. Ling joined the energetic discussion as the Exodus leadership argued among themselves.
Awkward. I stepped back. The debate reminded me I was an outsider. What are you doing here? I asked myself. This isn’t your fight. I was so lost in my thoughts that Lorenzo was able to sneak up on me. He startled me as he materialized to my side.
“Valentine,” he said curtly.
“What the fuck happened to you?” I asked, my voice lowered so the Exodus people couldn’t hear. “What is Anders doing here?”
“Come on,” Lorenzo said, indicating the door. “I need some air. Let’s get away from these crazies.” He walked out of the meeting room. We found a dark, quiet corner in the warehouse, away from prying ears, to talk. “You know this Anders guy? He’s an asshole.”
“You have no idea,” I said, not looking at him.
“Then fill me in,” Lorenzo said. “The short version. You tend to ramble on when you start telling stories.”
I rai
sed an eyebrow at him. “Fine. Anders worked for Gordon Willis. He was, like, his right-hand man or something. Everywhere Gordon went, just about, Anders went with him. He was there in the office the day I was recruited. He was in Zubara. He was there when we raided Rafael Montalban’s yacht, too, so I’m guessing he was in on Gordon’s schemes.”
“How do you know?”
“The yacht raid was not one of our planned operations. It was part of Gordon’s plan, part of his deal with Eduard Montalban.”
Lorenzo’s eyes narrowed. “Makes sense. Go on.”
“Anders is an ice-cold motherfucker. I don’t know if he feels pain. He kicked the shit out of half my team in Yemen, and he’s the only man I’ve ever met that’s a faster draw than me.”
“You haven’t seen me draw. What were you doing in Yemen?”
I cracked a mean smile. “Oh please, pops, I’ve got you beat by a tenth of a second, easy. We were there recovering a nuclear warhead that was supposed to go to General Al Sabah.”
“We’ll settle this on the range someday, kid. So . . . wait, wait a second. Is it my bad ear, or did you just tell me that Anders got his hands on a nuke?”
“You heard me right. An old Russian ICBM warhead. We intercepted the transaction in the middle of nowhere Yemen. Anders was there for the raid. We lost guys, too. Christ, he let Singer bleed to death. The guy was supposed to be our medic and the cocksucker didn’t even open his trauma kit.”
Lorenzo thought that over for a second. “Sounds about right. What else?”
“That’s all I know. I never saw him after the raid on Rafael Montalban’s yacht. I didn’t know what happened to him.”
“He told me about it. He went underground after Bob leaked all of that information to the press. He fled the country when you killed Gordon Willis. He thought Majestic sent you to clean up loose ends.”
I chuckled sardonically. “Yeah, Gordon thought Majestic had sent me to kill him, too. Blew his fucking mind when I told him I was there on my own.”
“Were they going to kill him?”
“I think they were going to take him alive, to interrogate him about Project Blue. The guys that were supposed to capture Gordon entered his house while I was confronting him. They captured me right after I shot him.”
“Damn. Couldn’t have timed that better, could you?”
“I should’ve just stayed with Hawk. It would’ve saved me a lot of trouble.”
Lorenzo leaned in closer to me, the tone of his voice darkening. “It would’ve saved us all a lot of trouble. You did the worst possible thing: you got caught. You talked. My brother could be dead because of you.”
“You think this is what I wanted? You think I don’t regret it every single fucking day I’m alive? You think it doesn’t just kill me on the inside knowing that my choices have gotten almost everyone I know killed?”
“I don’t give a shit how bad you feel,” Lorenzo said. “You got stupid. You let your childish rage compromise you. And you didn’t just compromise yourself, you compromised Hawk, my brother, me, Jill, Reaper, everyone!”
“Really? You’re going there? Okay, okay, let’s talk about your little high-speed chase down a public highway and shooting down a jet. Way to keep it low profile. And using your real last name as your pseudonym? Jesus, Batman, you think they’ll ever figure out that you’re really Bruce Wayne?”
“First off, that was never my last name. Second, that’s not even the same fucking thing! I did what needed to be done! And shooting down that jet was awesome and you know it.”
I couldn’t argue with that, but I felt like arguing anyway. I was sick and tired of Lorenzo jumping my shit. “Whatever. I’ve had enough of you blaming me for your problems. Enough people have suffered because of me. I’m not going to take responsibility for the people that suffered because of you. I never asked for your help. You didn’t have to get involved in any of this. Your brother wouldn’t have gotten into this mess if he’d have quit while he was ahead and stopped digging. You’re pissed off at him and you’re taking it out on me.”
Lorenzo stepped back and seemed to deflate a little. I folded my arms across my chest. He thought for a moment, then looked up at me. “I’m trying to help you, goddamn it,” he insisted. “I’ve been where you are. Nothing to lose, nothing to live for, no longer giving a fuck. I lived that way for a long time. Look where it got me. You gave me some advice when were in Las Vegas. Do you remember? You told me to get out of this life, for Jill’s sake.”
“I remember,” I said sullenly.
“I wish like hell you’d have listened to your own advice, kid,” Lorenzo said. “It was the first smart thing I ever heard you say.”
I sighed heavily, looking around the warehouse. “Yeah, well, it’s too late now, isn’t it? For both of us. Look at everything that’s happened, Lorenzo. Look at all this crazy shit and tell me that it’s just a coincidence.”
“I don’t believe in fate,” Lorenzo said stiffly. “Or destiny, or predetermination, or unicorns, or pots of gold at the ends of rainbows.”
“If there were pots of gold at the end of rainbows, I can only assume that you’d have a lot of gold and there’d be a lot of murdered leprechauns buried in Ireland.”
Lorenzo actually smiled. “Damn straight.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t believe in any of that stuff either. But look around you. Can you honestly tell me you feel like you’re in control? I don’t know, man. There’s something wrong with this place, with this whole thing.”
“It’s a third-world, drug-trafficking, slave-trading, arms-dealing hellhole,” Lorenzo said, almost like he was trying to defend the place. “It’s going to feel wrong.”
“Not like that. I’ve been to places like that too. I worked in Africa for almost a year, you know. This is different. I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something seriously messed up here. We don’t belong here. I have a terrible feeling about this whole thing.”
“Have you told Ling that? She’s pretty into you. She might listen.”
I raised an eyebrow at his comment, then shook my head. “Not on this. These guys are dedicated. They’re going to go through with it one way or another.”
Lorenzo sighed and rolled his eyes. “Bunch of fanatics is what they are. No offense. I can’t complain, though. This insanity is the only shot I’ve got at finding Bob.”
“What about your friend Katarina? Is she for real?”
“She’s for real,” Lorenzo said. “And she’s not my friend. The bitch is crazy. Genuinely, legitimately, totally screwed-in-the-head bug-nuts. She’s a businesswoman, though. She’ll uphold her end of the bargain, especially if she thinks she’s got something to gain, but if Exodus knows what’s good for them, they won’t trust her.”
“Exodus doesn’t strike me as the trusting sort. I have no doubt they’ll have a contingency plan.”
Lorenzo gave me a hard look after that comment, but I said nothing more. He didn’t know about the raid on the dam, and he didn’t need to. This whole thing was already complicated enough.
And for the life of me, I just couldn’t shake the bad feeling I had.
Chapter 17: Dance Partners
LORENZO
Somewhere in Kazakhstan
March 20th
There was an awkward silence in the small cabin. Terrorists on one side, gangsters on the other, nobody speaking, kind of like the uncomfortable beginning of a middle-school dance when the music starts and the boys are too intimidated to go talk to the girls. The Montalban Exchange was represented by Katarina and Anders, Exodus by Ibrahim and a tough-looking Czech named Fajkus. Outside the single room dwelling, several other Exodus members and Montalban goons watched each other with nervous alertness while their bosses talked business.
The meetingplace had been agreed upon by both groups. The house stood alone in a mountain pasture forty miles into Kazakhstan. It was a cramped, wooden shack, but since it was alone in a sea of stunted yellow grass poking out of the snow, there was
no place for either side to set up snipers or an ambush. It was too open for any of us to have been tailed by Jihan’s spies. The lone shepherd who lived here had been given a small sum of money and sent off to watch his goats.
I had introduced the various parties, and was now leaning back in my rickety chair, arms folded across my chest, just an impartial observer at this point. I didn’t trust either side, but sadly I needed these people to free Bob.
After sizing each other up, Ibrahim broke the silence. “Lorenzo has told me that you wish to assist us. I’m willing to listen to your proposal. However, you must know that Exodus does not need your help. We are more than capable to accomplishing our mission.”
Kat smiled. “No. No, you are not. Otherwise you wouldn’t be here today.”
“I’m afraid you are mistaken,” Ibrahim stated flatly.
“Then why haven’t you killed Jihan yet?”
Fajkus scowled. The Czech was probably in his mid thirties, stocky, with bulldog jowls, and short, spiky, black hair. The Exodus XO wore small, round glasses, and it was rather obvious from his expression that he didn’t like this meeting. “The Pale Man will be dead soon enough.”
“Oh, but think of all those poor slaves, dying by the score every day, living in squalor and suffering, while their saviors wait in relative comfort.” She gestured at the walls of the cabin. The only decorations were antlers off of some animal that I didn’t recognize. “That must be infuriating.”
“Don’t patronize me, Ms. Katarina,” Ibrahim said. “We both know that you do not care about the welfare of the slaves.”
“Of course not. I care about profit and competition. But for you, every day you wait, every hour, the odds of Jihan learning about you increase. My spies were able to discover you, so you are vulnerable. Should Jihan learn of you, he’ll hunt you down like dogs, but still mighty Exodus hesitates.” Kat leaned forward and rested her hands on the plank table. “No, you are not ready yet. You lack something.”
Ibrahim and Fajkus exchanged glances, conveying information like only two professionals who had worked together for a long time could. Ibrahim nodded. Fajkus turned back toward Kat. “We are waiting for a few more swords, our strike teams, to arrive. Jihan’s compound—”
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