“Given the circumstances,” Nicholas said, “that might have been a good idea.”
Dirk closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.
“From what you just said,” Nicholas continued, angered, “you should have replaced him. Tyler obviously was in no condition to continue.” He stood and jabbed an accusing finger. “With all due respect, what were you thinking?”
Dirk lifted his hands in defeat. “Looking back—”
“Looking back!” Nicholas took a deep breath and sat.
“Let me explain,” Dirk said. “I don’t disagree with you, but I was looking out for his career.” He lifted a finger to stifle Nicholas’ objection. “K had just offered Tyler a promotion and a great job back at headquarters. Tyler probably would have been in a command position within three years. Quitting this operation would have ruined his career. Let’s be honest, we’ve worked under more stressful conditions. Remember El Salvador? I thought he could stick it out.”
“I guess he failed that test,” Nicholas said with ambivalence. As much as he hated to admit it, Dirk had a point. Many had survived worse circumstances. If Tyler couldn’t stomach the operation for two more weeks, he probably couldn’t have handled senior level responsibility. However, Dirk should have known Tyler’s limitations.
“The other reason was professional development,” Dirk said. “Case officers can’t live by emotion. Tyler was losing control. I wanted to help him use the legal system to win his personal battle against Cesar. Besides, the operation wasn’t finished. We can’t alter national security objectives because someone gets upset. With hindsight”—he threw up his hands—“perhaps I should have replaced him.”
Nicholas swallowed hard, unable sort his emotions. Everything Dirk said made sense, except one question. “Why did you wait until now to tell me?”
“To protect you,” Dirk said. “Tyler was your friend. We didn’t think you could work with Cesar if you knew the truth. As much as it pains us, we have to work with Cesar for operation Delphi Justice to succeed, especially this late in the game. I saw you had your mind set on finding the truth about Tyler’s death. I told you to keep you focused on the operation.”
“What about the videotape and the drug test?” Nicholas asked.
“We’re not exposing this,” Dirk said. “The videotape is the original. I took it when we were investigating Helena’s death. Tyler has a clean record. He’ll be recognized for heroic service.”
Nicholas breathed a sigh of relief. A court of law probably would have found Tyler guilty, but Nicholas couldn’t argue the plaintiff’s case.
Dirk slapped the newspaper. “Have you figured it out yet?”
“Figured what out?” Nicholas asked.
“Lina’s evidence,” Dirk said.
Nicholas slapped his head. “Tyler?”
Dirk nodded. “I don’t know why he took the documents,” he said. “He might have considered exposing the operation or using them as a bargaining chip. I don’t know. What I do know is Tyler took the documents. When I read the anonymous editorial in El Tiempo, I made the connection. I knew Lina Castillo wrote for El Tiempo and that she and Tyler had a thing before he met Helena.”
The part about Lina and Tyler having a “thing” grabbed Nicholas’ attention. “How would you define Tyler’s relationship with Lina?”
“Off and on. They were probably having sex,” Dirk said, “but Tyler dropped her like a bad habit after he met Helena. Lina is an attractive woman, but who can blame him?” He tapped his pen as if deep in thought. “Lina was probably pissed at Helena, but she couldn’t do anything about it. Don’t sell Lina short, though. She’s ambitious and calculating. Be careful.”
Nicholas digested the information, opting not to tell Dirk about his sexual relationship with Lina. “How did Lina get the documents?”
“You got me,” Dirk said. He raised a finger to excuse himself and dialed the phone. “Hello, Janette. Is K in?” He covered the mouthpiece and looked at Nicholas. “K told me to call…K, hello. Yes, Nicholas is in my office.” He offered the phone.
“Hello, K,” Nicholas said, pleased to hear from his mentor.
“Sorry you had to learn the truth about Tyler this way,” K said. “Good work on the last shipment. You’re on the right track. Complete this operation and your membership to The Order is assured. I hear you and Charlie are partners again. How’s the arm?”
Nicholas rubbed his wound, surprised Dirk had relayed so many details to K. “The arm is fine and Charlie is still alive and kicking.” He extended his arm to flex his triceps and felt his muscles grinding to life. “What should I do now?” he asked.
“I want you to run the biggest shipment you can and eliminate Cesar,” K said. “Shouldn’t be a problem, right?”
“You mean the plan to arrest him?” Nicholas asked.
“No,” K said, “I mean kill the son of a bitch. And Nick,” he continued, “I’m flying down tomorrow. We’ll close this deal together.”
THIRTY-TWO
Nicholas Lowe sat on the couch in his hotel room, reflecting. The thrill of imminent success and the shock of Tyler’s crime were wreaking havoc on his emotions. Completing this operation would vindicate his name and win him membership to The Order, but Tyler’s crime gave him pause. He had purposefully avoided resorting to New Age clichés to find inner peace. The path of action was the only way, so he focused his attention on the two beautiful actresses at center stage, Adriana and Maria.
Revenge is a dish best served cold. Nicholas imagined Cesar’s reaction to seeing his whores with another man—a real man, for that matter, not a spineless killer who hid behind a façade of moral superiority. Today they were his.
A blonde curl from Adriana’s bangs dangled as she sliced a lime. She wore a red polo shirt tucked into faded denim shorts. Her ass swayed as she squeezed the juice into her Cuba libre and poked the ice cubes with a straw. Maria poured two glasses of scotch and soda and approached the couch. She wore a skintight white tank top cut above the midriff with khaki shorts. Her silky black hair was pulled back in a ponytail.
“Nicholas, rub my feet, baby,” Adriana whimpered and sucked her straw seductively.
“I don’t think so,” Maria said. “He’s rubbing my feet today.” She handed a glass to Nicholas and sat on his lap. “Drink up, baby.” She kissed him on the cheek and licked his ear. “You’re going to rub me all over,” she whispered and snuggled her ass on his crotch.
Nicholas had talked Dirk into giving him extra funds for his plan to kill Cesar, without mentioning that three hundred dollars was for Adriana and Maria’s services. The CIA normally considered getting laid a case officer’s responsibility, but messing with Cesar’s mind was an essential ingredient for retribution.
Nicholas tapped the cushion as Adriana approached. She sat and kissed his mouth. The taste of dark rum and citrus lingered on her tongue and lips.
“Let me ask you something,” Nicholas said. “Do you feel comfortable with me?” They nodded like schoolgirls. “I know you two are close to Cesar—”
“Por favor,” Maria groaned and hastily drank her scotch. “You don’t know how long we’ve waited for a real man like you.”
“Who could afford us,” Adriana added matter-of-factly.
Fair enough, Nicholas thought and sipped his drink. “Cesar is stopping by,” he said. “Just wanted to make sure you didn’t mind.”
“I don’t mind,” Adriana said and kissed Nicholas passionately.
Maria twisted and slapped Adriana’s thigh. “Stop that!”
Nicholas relished the possibility of a catfight, but three knocks on the door dashed his vivid fantasy. He spanked Maria’s ass and stood.
Nicholas opened the door for Cesar. “Welcome,” he said politely with a handshake and inspected the empty hallway.
“Ladies,” Cesar said, “I wondered where you were.”
Nicholas gestured to the vixens and leaned closer to whisper. “We had such a good time on the boat the other day. I
invited them over. May I offer you a drink?”
Cesar shook his head. “You shouldn’t invite them to our meetings.”
“Actually, they’re here on business,” Nicholas said. “I hope you don’t mind.” He lifted his drink to Adriana and Maria.
“Cesar!” Adriana rushed over and kissed him. “We didn’t have anything to do today. We’re just hanging out.”
“Look,” Maria said and bounced to her feet. “This is the outfit you bought me yesterday.” She pressed her breasts together to enhance her fabulous cleavage. “I mean, I got it with your credit card, but you, you know, got it for me. Do you like it?”
So much for victory, Nicholas thought.
“Perhaps we should talk in the bedroom,” Nicholas said to Cesar and led the way. He closed the door and turned on the radio. “The shipment got through yesterday.”
Cesar nodded. “Congratulations,” he said somberly. “It also got past your Coast Guard vessels, which means it is probably being snorted by some poor kids in Miami. Now we can officially blame the CIA and The Order for your drug problem.”
Nicholas stared at him blankly, irked by his hypocrisy, but curious about how he was privy to that information. This meeting would remain cordial. He had to hide his knowledge of Tyler’s and Helena’s deaths to avoid raising suspicions. “We’ll find the drugs,” he said.
“You’ll devise a top secret operation for that,” Cesar said dryly.
Nicholas managed a smile. “You remember someone tipped off our first shipment?” he asked. Cesar nodded. “Tell me who knew about the change of plans.”
Cesar stroked his mustache and reflected. “I was sitting by the pool when you called. You passed the information and I…no wait, I was with Adriana and Maria—stinking drunk—and Manuel. He must have overheard our phone call.” He swore to himself, but he didn’t look vengeful. “I can’t believe Manuel betrayed me.”
Nicholas nodded. “He was on the sailboat when I told you to run the shipment from the same place and time. Remember?” Cesar nodded. “A few hours later, the military had the information.”
“You planned a deception from the beginning?” Cesar asked, impressed. “You would have been a good revolutionary soldier. You could have fought for justice with me in the jungles of Colombia. I needed more men like you.”
Although Nicholas couldn’t care less what Cesar thought, his comment strangely felt like a compliment.
“If we can pass bad information to Manuel,” Nicholas said, “we can run a huge shipment on Sunday to close out this deal.”
“What do you have in mind?” he asked dryly.
Nicholas couldn’t discern Cesar’s mood. Perhaps he was feeling guilty for his past actions, or perhaps he was angered that his whores were in the next room. Regardless, something was bothering him, but Nicholas couldn’t concern himself with that now.
“Ten tons,” Nicholas said. Dirk had said many last minute bribes would be required to turn the tide in the polls caused by Lina’s story. If his calculations were correct, though, ten tons would buy a lot more than the referendum.
Cesar stroked his mustache. “That’s a lot of cash.”
“Thirty million dollars for you,” Nicholas said. “That’s too much money to handle with a wire transfer. I suggest bearer bonds.” Actually, Dirk and K had suggested bonds, to avoid the suspiciously large electronic transactions.
“I have about ten tons in storage in northern Colombia,” Cesar said. He seemed to perk up. “This is my last shipment. I might as well go out with a bang. After this, I’ll find a quiet place to retire and lay low for a few years.”
“Congratulations,” Nicholas said. “I’ll buy a gold watch to honor your years of dedicated service to humanity.”
Cesar didn’t seem eager to spar. “How do you want to move it?”
“By commercial ship from Colombia to Colon,” Nicholas said. “Put the goods in a sealed container and make it look official with a customs inspection form. I’ll run it through a shell company and re-invoice it.”
“You’ll have to pay extra to ship it to Colon,” Cesar said.
“Add five hundred dollars a kilo and we have a deal.” What did he care? The drugs would be seized, Willie and Daisy would be arrested, and Cesar…well, K had decided his fate.
“We have a deal,” Cesar said. “I get my money, and you spooks can brag about your war on drugs, however much it pains me.”
When Nicholas and Cesar returned, the women were waiting.
“How did it go?” Adriana asked Cesar and hugged him.
Cesar moved toward the door. “I have some business to take care of,” he added and gestured to Nicholas. “Enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”
“Will you be home tomorrow?” Maria asked Cesar. “You said you’d take us shopping. I saw the most stunning dress—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Cesar said, “you’ll get your stupid dress. Call me, Nicholas,” he added cordially and left the room.
The last thing Nicholas wanted was for Cesar to repent. The plan was pointless if Cesar forgave himself and bowed before an intangible divinity to absolve his sins. He had to steer Cesar back to his shallow materialism to make him face the guilt of his crime. His ideology would be his own hell.
Nicholas and the ladies returned to the couch, but a knock at the door interrupted them.
Nicholas opened the door to a frantic and disheveled Lina Castillo.
She slapped him across the face. “You son of a bitch!”
Nicholas rubbed his cheek as two policemen caught up with her and restrained her.
“Who are those sluts?” Lina said.
“Sluts?” Maria sniffed and gestured at Lina’s clothes, which were in disarray. “You’d better talk to the fashion police.” She and Adriana laughed and pointed.
“Hold on!” Nicholas said. “What’s going on?”
Lina stomped her foot. “I got fired, and I might go to jail!”
“Why?” Nicholas said, feigning shock. Unlike Cesar, Lina deserved empathy.
“As if you don’t know,” she said.
Nicholas shrugged with a subtle glance at the policemen to convey his innocence, but this was more difficult than he imagined.
“For libel, you son of a bitch!” She wiped her smudged mascara and restrained her tears. “When the president demanded my proof, I couldn’t find it in my room. The newspaper retracted the story and fired me. And now I might go to jail!”
“What happened to your proof?” Nicholas asked.
Lina swung her arm to slap him, but Nicholas caught her wrist. The policemen inched closer but he gestured for them to stay put. Her situation wasn’t nearly as catastrophic as she imagined. The president’s strong arm tactics were only meant to scare her. She would be out of jail in no time, perhaps as a hero.
“How could you!” she said. “What about us?”
Nicholas embraced her as she cried. He felt an urge to tell the truth and to end her suffering, but it would ruin the operation.
“Please,” she pleaded, “just give them the documents.”
“Officers,” he said, “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what documents she’s talking about.”
“You see!” she said. “How did you know I had documents?”
“Because you just told me,” Nicholas said.
Adriana and Maria laughed.
“Not a word from you two whores!” Lina looked at Nicholas as the vixens feigned fear. “I don’t know why you did it, and I don’t care.” She swiped at her smudged eyes again. “Please, just give me the documents. I’m begging you.”
Nicholas looked at the officers and shrugged. They nodded and grabbed Lina’s arms.
“Let me go!” she screamed and struggled to free herself. “He stole my proof!”
The officers apologized, led her out of the room, and closed the door. The echoes of her screams faded.
“B-I-T-C-H,” Adriana snickered. “What’s her problem?”
“I have no idea,” he said and took a
deep breath as he stared at the door, then turned and forced a smile. “She must be crazy.”
“No kidding,” Maria said and beckoned him with an air kiss.
Nicholas sat between them on the couch. “I have to say, I’m pissed about the way you two kissed up to Cesar.”
“We’re sorry,” they said in unison and started kissing him.
THIRTY-THREE
Nicholas slalomed the three cement barriers and stopped the Jeep Cherokee at the front gate of Howard Air Force Base. An MP sporting a pencil-thin mustache and aviator sunglasses inspected the vehicle sticker and requested to see everyone’s ID card—Nicholas, K, and Dirk. Normally, during duty hours, the embassy decal sufficed for entrance, but two recent terrorist bombings in east Africa by Islamic extremists had increased the security level for military bases worldwide to Threatcon Bravo. There was a lot of talk in Washington that a group called al-Qa’ida and the so-called Global War on Terrorism would be the next War on Drugs. The airman wished them a good day and waved them past.
During the drive, K vented. He was the Sun Tzu of tact, but political shenanigans in Washington were approaching absurd levels. Congressmen insisted on exposing budgetary and operational details of the CIA, only to later complain the CIA wasn’t as effective as it could be. “Not when I have to advise my adversaries of my intentions,” K had quipped. He decried the cult of mediocrity for peddling feel good agendas that caused more problems than they solved, despite best intentions. People in the Beltway were too concerned about job security and political correctness to worry about defending the Republic. Despite this trend, while the self-proclaimed do-gooders attended yoga class or debated postmodernism over tofu platters, K scheduled cigar puffing meetings to take care of business.
In front of the operations center, a soldier wearing camouflage gestured for Nicholas to park in a reserved spot. The military, like communist nations, had superlative protocol for VIP guests. In addition to the soldiers crowding into the NCO club for happy hour, the base was buzzing. MPs patrolled the area and directed unauthorized personnel away from the building in preparation for President Mendoza’s arrival.
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