by Nick Cook
A waiter reached Carlos just before we did and offered him a glass containing a golden liquid.
He said something in Spanish to the waiter that my earbud instantly translated into – But I didn’t order a drink.’
‘It’s from a fan who insisted on buying you Ron Edmundo Dantes, a 25-year-old Santiago rum,’ the waiter replied. Once again it was translated by my earbud.
Carlos shrugged. ‘Then I will toast my well-wisher his health.’
The glass was halfway to his lips when Tom darted forward and deliberately knocked into him, sending it flying to the ground, where it smashed.
Tom gave the old man an ashen look. ‘I am so sorry, my friend, I didn’t look where I was going.’
Carlos glowered first at him and then the spilt drink pooling into the carpet.
Tom held up his palms. ‘Please, let me buy you a replacement.’ He waved to Glenn and Ruby, who came over immediately.
Tom leant into me. ‘We need to find out who brought that drink and fast.’
I stared at him. ‘Got to have been spiked, right?’
‘Yes. Maybe even drugged with something to make it look like Carlos had suffered a fatal heart attack. All in the playbook for a Russian agent if they wanted to make sure he couldn’t talk to us.’
‘Bloody hell, we’d better find out who ordered that drink, and fast!’
Leaving Glenn and Ruby to babysit Carlos, we headed towards the waiter, who was now installed back behind the bar.
‘Who ordered the Ron Edmundo Dantes that you just served to that chess player over there?’ I asked him.
He shook his head. ‘Sorry, he said I wasn’t to tell anyone.’ But then his gaze flicked to a thin man heading towards a door at the back of the atrium. The guy was wearing black jeans and a shirt and had his baseball cap pulled down to obscure his face.
Tom had spotted the barman’s subconscious gesture too. He dug out a handful of American hundred dollar bills and showed them to barman, then nodded towards the thin man. ‘Was it that man by any chance?’
The barman shrugged. ‘You didn’t hear it from me, señor.’ Then with a grin he took the cash from Tom’s outstretched hand.
We stepped away from the bar as the thin man disappeared out through the doorway.
‘Okay, let’s tail him and see where he leads us,’ I said.
Tom nodded. ‘Exactly what I was about to suggest.’
I pressed my finger tip into my earbud. ‘Ruby, we’re pursuing the possible agent. You and Glenn escort Carlos back to the car in case the agent came here with an accomplice.’
‘Understood and will do, Captain,’ she replied.
As nonchalantly as I could, I walked with Tom towards the door that the guy had just exited through.
A few seconds later we entered a bright white corridor lined with the usual anonymous framed prints that hotels always seemed to favour. The slap of the man’s shoes on the tiled floor came from around the corner of the corridor ahead, but his step wasn’t hurried, just another hotel guest in no particular rush to get anywhere so he wouldn’t draw any attention. Cool, calm and detached. This guy really was a professional, somebody who knew exactly what they were doing, and that made him extremely dangerous. We needed to step carefully here.
As Tom and I rounded the corner, we saw the man disappearing through a door into the busy street outside.
‘It’s going to be tricky to keep track of him if he gets into a car,’ Tom said.
‘I’ve already had an idea about that,’ I replied. I pressed my finger to my earbud. ‘Ruby, we are in pursuit of the target. Are we within range of one of your WASPs? We could use an extra pair of eyes in the sky.’
‘Yes. I can get one here in less than ten minutes,’ Ruby replied.
‘Good, then please do it.’
‘Understood, Captain. Launching WASP unit now. I’ll lock onto the signal from your Sky Wires and have it track you,’ Ruby said.
‘Roger that and keep us posted,’ I said.
We stepped through the door out into the street. The thin man was now about fifty metres away, heading along the pavement in front of a line of small shops.
The musical notes of a guitar being played drifted down from a balcony and the smell of good coffee wafted out of a cafe as we passed. The people out on the street looked relaxed, a stark contrast to how I was feeling on the inside - wired and ready for anything. The thin man squeezed through a crowd of tourists who were following a guide on the pavement, and then crossed the street to the opposite side, still with a casual stride to his step.
‘Probably best to stay on this side so we don’t draw any attention to ourselves,’ Tom said.
‘Good idea,’ I said, making a mental note that Tom really needed to train me in the art of surveillance techniques.
As we carried on, I started to wonder about why the agent might want to kill Carlos. Was this confirmation that the old man had critical information that the Overseers wanted burying? And if so, was it about what Carlos’s son and daughter had heard during their dive?
The thin man paused to looked into a tobacconist’s window. We dropped our pace, but as we drew level his eyes met mine in the reflection. Instantly, he ducked sideways and disappeared into a dark alley.
Tom and I set off after him, darting in front of a bus that blared its horn, braking hard. We ignored the shouted protests of the driver and the expletives that my earbud was doing far too good a job of translating. We shot into the alley to see the agent sprinting away from us. Tom took his dart gun out from beneath his shirt as I reached for the LRS in my holster, screwing the suppressor onto it as we took off after the man.
But the guy was fast and although Tom was fit he was starting to fall behind me, probably thanks to all the time I’d spent on treadmills and doing runs through the jungle, upping my stamina.
The agent sped around the corner, but I was gaining on him.
As I hurtled around the corner after him, I had just a split second to register the guy, standing with his feet spaced slightly apart, his body angled to present as small a target as possible, the pistol in his hand aimed straight at my chest. I dived sideways as his bullet whizzed over my head, close enough for me to feel the draught of its flight as I dived flat.
Before I could return fire, or even call out a warning, Tom rounded the corner and the guy fired again. Brick splinters flew from the wall, but Tom’s instincts were well honed and he rolled sideways in a fluid move as a second shot missed him.
Adrenaline hummed through my system as I aimed my LRS at the guy and returned fire. But he was already moving and diving behind a dumpster. In semi-automatic mode I emptied my magazine, firing at his hiding place, my shots ricocheting off the dumpster and sending sparks flying.
I was just grabbing a fresh magazine to reload when something came arcing out from behind the dumpster. My brain barely had a moment to register the grenade tumbling towards us.
Instantly I realised that both Tom and I were exposed and worse still, without cover to get behind in time. But as that grenade with our names on it started to fall back down towards us, it exploded in mid-air with a loud bang and a cloud of black smoke.
‘Allow me,’ Ruby’s voice said through my earbud. ‘Turns out my WASPs are even faster than I realised if you run them hot enough to almost burn out their motors.’
A drone unit dropped down between the alley walls and sped towards the dumpster, its stubby barrel already pointing towards it.
The man’s head appeared and he shot once, twice, both bullets going wide, but his third shot struck the craft, which spiralled into the alley and exploded in a bright blue flash as its lithium battery exploded.
But that moment of frenzied activity had been all the time I needed to slip the fresh magazine into my LRS, aim it at the agent’s exposed head and fire. A crack came from the muzzle of my pistol and a cloud of blood erupted from the man’s temple as he crumpled backwards.
I jumped to my feet and raced forward, aimin
g my pistol towards where he’d disappeared. Tom was only a couple of metres behind me as I reached the dumpster to find the man twitching on the floor, an expanding pool of blood spreading from his head. A phone was in his hand, his thumb edging towards a send button.
I kicked it from him and the phone went skittering across the alley. The man’s eyes locked onto mine as a shudder went through him. Then his pupils rolled up into his skull.
I stood slowly, my blood humming, and took a deep breath.
Tom checked the agent’s neck for a pulse and shook his head. ‘So much for interrogating him about who he was working for.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t have any choice but to take the shot.’
Tom sighed. ‘I know.’ He checked the man’s pockets and then sat back on his haunches. ’No ID, just as I expected.’
‘Are you guys okay?’ Ruby asked through my earbud.
‘Yes, we’re all good thanks to you taking that grenade out,’ I replied. ‘But I’m afraid your WASP has seen better days.’
‘Yep, but that was one hell of a shot taking out a grenade in mid-air like that, even for me.’
‘Well it’s certainly appreciated and we both owe you a drink,’ Tom replied.
I crossed the alley and scooped up the agent’s phone. I looked at the screen and my eyes widened. On it was a photo of me. It looked like the guy must have taken it back in the lobby of the hotel. Of even more significance were all the biometric markers over my face. Despite my long-haired disguise, the message, Subject identified, Lauren Stelleck, was displayed below the photo.
‘Tom, that agent clocked me. Look.’ I swivelled the screen up towards him.
He frowned. ‘Let me see that.’ He took the phone and then his brow relaxed. ‘Thank God, he didn’t get a chance to hit send. We’re in the clear for now, although he’s highly likely to have already reported in to whoever he is working for, to let them know he encountered us back at Carlos’s diving school.’
‘So what are we going to do now?’
Tom looked up and down the empty alleyway and then gestured first to the dumpster and then to the spy’s body. ‘First a bit of spring cleaning, then we’ll all need to put our heads together about what our next move should be.’
Chapter Seven
With the spy’s body buried beneath a pile of bin bags in the dumpster and the remains of the WASP in another, we headed back to a rendezvous point that Tom had arranged with Glenn in one of the nearby streets.
‘That was a bit of a close call,’ Tom said, patting down the dust from his trousers.
‘Yes, if it hadn’t of been for Ruby I doubt either of us would have made it,’ I replied.
‘I very much agree. However, a spy using a grenade in the field was unheard of in my day.’
‘Well if the Overseers are behind this operation, I think the rulebook that all sides played by is probably long gone.’
A horn sounded and we both looked up the street to see Glenn waving to us through the windscreen of the Skyliner. Sitting next to him was Carlos. The Cuban gave us a questioning look as we climbed into the back seat alongside Ruby.
‘Everything okay, guys?’ Glenn asked, looking at us in the rear-view mirror.
‘Yes, our dirty laundry is all sorted,’ Tom replied, tugging his own ear.
‘Good to hear,’ Glenn said, with that signature gold tooth grin of his. He gestured towards Carlos. ‘Let me make some introductions. These are some very good buddies of mine, my friend. They are very keen to talk to you and offer assistance to find out what happened to Raúl and Maricela.’
Carlos’s eyes widened. ‘Everyone else has refused to help. Why are you so willing to help a stranger?’
‘Because we believe your children may have made a significant discovery, if what was reported in the news before it was taken down is correct,’ I said.
‘You mean the strange whale song that Raúl recorded when they were searching for the wreck?’
‘Yes. Actually, what wreck is that?’ Tom asked quickly.
But immediately Carlos’s face became guarded. ‘Oh nothing of interest, just an old cargo boat that went down at the location they were diving at.’
I didn’t know exactly what my subconscious was picking up on, but I had the distinct impression the old man was now lying through his teeth. But if so why?
‘So about this recording, do you still have it?’ Tom asked, either oblivious to the lie or just playing along for now, which was more likely.
‘Yes, back at my diving school. Why, would you like to listen to it?’’
I traded looks with the others. Could this be what the agent had been after? But based on Carlos’s offer he had no idea that his shop had just been broken into.
Glenn beat me to it, breaking the news to him. ‘That would be most kind of you, my friend, but I have to let you know we were just there looking for you. Unfortunately we managed to disturb an intruder who’d broken into your shop.’
‘Hijo de la chingada!’ Carlos said, which my earbud translated into Son of a bitch.
‘I thought I saw someone suspicious hanging around when I got a lift with my sister’s wife Mariah into town for the tournament,’ Carlos continued in English. ‘There was a silver Jeep parked up on the road near my diving school. I spotted a thin-faced guy in it watching me as we drove past him. There was something about him that – how do you say? –, creeped me out.’
‘That sounds like the same man we just met; his vehicle was parked out the front of your place when we got there,’ I said. ‘And I’m afraid he’s made a huge mess of your office.’
Glenn gazed at the old man. ‘We suspect he was looking for information linked to Raúl and Maricela’s disappearance.’
Carlos’s eyes narrowed. ‘In other words, just like you all are. And who’s to say it wasn’t you who really did this and have now turned up pretending to be my friends and trying to make me trust you?’
‘Look, I’d probably feel the same in your situation,’ I said. ‘But for what it’s worth I can promise you that we weren’t involved in any of that. We actually tried to stop him.’
‘Yes, if anything, we’re very much on your side and want to help,’ Tom added.
The old man looked out of the windscreen. ‘And what about the bodies of my children that have never been found? I tried to persuade the authorities to organise a search mission to examine the seabed, but they wanted nothing to do with it. Will my new friends really help me do that or are you just telling me what I want to hear?’ Tears suddenly beaded his eyes. ‘All I want to do is lay my children to rest and give them a proper burial.’
I felt a surge of compassion for the guy. He was obviously still grieving for his son and daughter. I thought of Aunt Lucy’s old friend Sally, a fellow lecturer who’d lost her son in a motorcycle accident. Her life had fallen apart afterwards and she’d ended up separating from her husband. As Lucy had told me at the time, no parent should ever have to cope with the soul- destroying grief of outliving their child.
Tom reached out and patted the old man’s shoulder. ‘We’ll do whatever it takes to recover Maricela and Raúl’s bodies and that’s a promise.’
I realised immediately that that promise was something that we couldn’t necessarily keep even if the intent was there. But right now this was all about gaining Carlos’s trust.
The old man gave Tom a long look. ‘Sweet words that a father wants to hear, but if I don’t agree to share this recording with you, what then?’
‘I can’t lie, that will be a big setback to us, Carlos,’ I said. ‘But at the end of the day that’s your decision and we’d have to respect that.’
‘Really?’ he asked.
I sighed, resisting the urge to cross my heart. ‘Really.’
Carlos gave me the longest look and then nodded. ‘You remind me of my daughter, you know that? Sorry, I didn’t catch your name?’
I paused for a moment. I could give him the alias that Tom had supplied me with along with the fake pass
ports, but maybe the truth started here. ‘It’s Lauren.’
‘Then, Lauren, I think I can tell when someone is being sincere, so please don’t end up disappointing an old man and leave him feeling gullible after falling for a promise from a pretty lady. Do we have an understanding?’
I held out my hand. ‘We do.’
Carlos reached out and shook my hand with a smile. ‘That is good to hear.’
I gave him my best you can trust me smile. ‘Now we’ve got that all sorted, I can’t tell you how anxious I am to hear that recording.’
‘Even though it’s just whale song?’ Carlos asked.
I gave him a small smile. ‘Even if it’s just whale song.’
Ruby had taken the precaution of calling up another WASP to escort us back in the Skyliner to the diving school in case we were being followed. But thankfully the drive had proved to be totally uneventful. Ruby had also taken the precaution of posting another drone on guard duty over the diving school itself in case another agent turned up.
We parked up outside the diving school and when we got out, Carlos growled like a very pissed off bear when he saw his kicked-in shop door.
‘I hope the bastard who did this gets run over by a truck and then it reverses over him just to make sure,’ he said as he examined the splintered frame.
‘Oh don’t you worry, Carlos, people of his type always pay the price eventually,’ Tom said, his perfectly neutral expression not giving anything away.
I tried to make sure my own expression was also suitably poker-faced. ‘Sorry, I don’t want to rush you and I realise you probably want to check things over after the break-in, but about that recording, Carlos?’ I said.
‘Yes, yes…please follow me.’
But rather than walk into the diving shop, Carlos headed around the side to the jetty, where a white boat was moored up. It was about ten metres long and had diving tanks in the back. He jumped onto its deck and headed to the cabin, then a moment later emerged with an ignition key in his hand. He unclipped a rubber-coated USB stick from the keyring.
