Authors: David Graham
He was cut short by the other man’s cell phone ringing.
“It’s done? ... Only the driver? ... You’re sure? Good. I’m just finished, you can send in the clean-up team.” He finished the call and, reaching into his overcoat
pocket, removed a gun fitted with a suppressor. “When I stop to think, it’s probably better this way,” he said coldly. “You’re a liability and at some stage
you’re bound to screw up again. Who knows who you’ll pull down with you? I mapped everything out; all you had to do was arrange a little subcontracting and you couldn’t even
handle that.” He pointed the gun at Brewer. “You would have been Mesi’s next call and all because you were too sloppy to put the sufficient layers between you and Kates. Jesus,
it’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long.”
“Please, it’s not that bad. Don’t do this, we’re so close.”
“You’re not close to anything.”
Brewer dropped to his knees, pleading unintelligibly before the single shot cut him short.
The killer stooped over the body, checking it quickly, then stepped over it to exit the building. By the time he reached his car he was fully focused on the next step.
The first sight that greeted her when the nurse pushed her into the room was Tom Hughes standing by her bed, smiling awkwardly, flowers in one hand and a bunch of magazines
under the other arm.
“Tom, it’s great to see you.”
“I would have come sooner but I only just heard. Here, it’s a fairly eclectic mix, I wasn’t sure where your interests lay,” he said, handing her the magazines.
Mesi sensed the nurse taking an interest in their conversation and asked her if she could find a vase for the flowers.
“So, how are you?’ he asked, pointing at the strapping. “It looks pretty horrendous.”
“I’ve just had a meeting with the surgeon, who said that once this is off and providing I stick to a regime they’ve mapped out, there’s no reason why I won’t
recover full mobility.”
He asked her what had happened, saying that what he had managed to glean from Samuels was very sketchy. She explained the process she had gone through to find Kates and the link to Brewer. She
could see that he had grown more visibly upset during her account of the link to Kates.
“So, why didn’t you call me when you found out Brewer might be connected, I thought we were working on this together?”
“I didn’t want to put you in an awkward position,” she said, uncomfortable under his reproachful look. “When I saw Brewer’s background, I figured he might still
have pull within the Agency. I felt it’d be unfair to subject you to that. I’m sorry.”
“Look, from now on we work this as a team. I bought in to your theory about a third-party instigator when you first came to me. Why do you think I’ve spent so much time getting
material together for you?”
“That’s true but –”
“No ‘buts’, fair’s fair; there has to be give and take. If you think you’ve made a significant breakthrough, I should be kept in the loop, at least as much as
Marshall or Samuels permit. Agreed?”
“Absolutely,” she responded with a smile, “you’ll hear about everything from here on in. At least I’ll have a sounding board. So, what do you know about Brewer?
Have you ever had any dealings with him?”
“No, no. I know him by reputation but we never had occasion to work together, which might seem odd seeing as how he did a lot of work related to Latin America, but the Agency is pretty big
and he was a few years ahead of me.”
“And nothing since he left?”
“Unfortunately, he’s operated at a far more rarefied level than yours truly. If he is connected, it shows that, despite the number of people we’ve checked, we haven’t
been casting the net wide enough.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, if we’d continued the way I’d suggested, we’d never have come across Brewer because strictly speaking he was never a field agent, more of a
co-ordinator.”
“One thing that struck me when I was researching him was how well he’s done with Spartan in such a relatively short time-span. Do you think he’s been unduly helped because of
his former position?”
“I’m sure he’s funded a few nice junkets for the odd congressman but that’s par for the course. If his background is any benefit it would only be if everything else were
equal between tenders. Then the cachet of being ex-Agency might tip the scales. There’s far too much scrutiny of arms expenditure these days for anything untoward in the awarding of
contracts.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“You must be happy, though, in one respect. Samuels can’t ignore your suspicions now, he’s sure to get behind your investigation 100 per cent.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Mesi said ruefully.
“What do you mean? He’s not still refusing to consider the possibility of orchestration?”
“Quite honestly, I’m not sure. We’re going to establish surveillance on Brewer but I know he’s still reluctant. Even if we did prove Brewer’s involvement, I think
he might argue that the Kosovars commissioned him.”
“Which is possible,” Hughes replied apologetically, clearly hating to point out the unpalatable truth.
“I suppose,” she agreed.
“Look, one step at a time – first we get enough to question Brewer. I’ll start pulling files on the missions he worked and personnel he used. I may not be able to show you
original material due to classifications but I’ll see you get all the salient information.”
He started to say goodbye, promising to call back later that evening and then, after hesitating briefly, leaned over and kissed her lightly on the cheek.
Mesi was surprised by the move but not altogether unpleasantly. She was not sure what to say and an awkward moment ensued.
“Sorry about that; impulse,” he said. “If I was out of line ...” He held his hands up.
She sensed his tentativeness while he waited for her to say something.
“No, don’t worry,” she smiled.
“How about I come back later this evening after I leave the office?”
“I’d like that.”
Larsen had waited more than four days in Cartagena before the information had arrived.
Rather than flying into the country, he had chartered a small sailing boat in Panama and sailed from there to Cartagena. It was easy enough to organise a slip at one of the marinas and then
follow the usual custom of having an agent check him into the country. A day later, he had a stamped passport and visa in his possession, just another tourist in what was regarded by many as South
America’s most beautiful city.
Before his recent meeting with Wallace, Larsen and Brewer had reviewed how the initiative was progressing. While they had been satisfied they had managed to spur Madrigal into retaliation, they
were somewhat disappointed. It appeared to them as if both sides, after a period of activity, were easing back on the hostilities. By this stage the projections had called for both sides to be
funnelling most of their energies into destroying the other. Despite the impact that had been made on drug trafficking and consumption, the results were still some way short of what they had
originally envisioned. If anything was going to force Madrigal to redouble his efforts, surely an attack on home soil would be it. Now, with Wallace’s waning enthusiasm, this operation had
taken on even greater significance, as it might represent the final opportunity to escalate the conflict.
The key issue had been identifying a target significant enough. There had been two ways they could go: assassinate a senior figure or destroy a valuable asset. The problem with the first option
was that most of the authority lay with Madrigal himself, so he was the logical choice for an attempt. However, besides the difficulty involved, killing the drug czar might not actually help their
cause. The vacuum created by his death would spark an internal feud between various candidates who fancied themselves as his successor. Such a development would divert even more energy from the
external struggle with the Kosovars, precisely what they did not want. So they decided to go with the option of destroying something that the Colombians would value. They knew there were major
shipments of cocaine regularly leaving Cartagena from the port of Santa Marta and, given the Alliance’s weakened state, an attack on one of these would fit the bill perfectly. The fact that
large numbers of tourists regularly travelled to Cartagena strengthened the argument for choosing this location.
Brewer had suggested they follow the usual procedure in which he organised reconnaissance and Larsen went in later with the operational team. The suggestion was for them to take their time and
monitor at least two or three of the previous shipments. Based on this intelligence, Larsen would draw up a plan of attack and recruit a team. After the standard period of drilling they would head
in. On the heels of his discussion with Wallace, however, Larsen was afraid the plug could be pulled any day and insisted on an accelerated schedule. He would perform the reconnaissance himself,
taking only enough time to see one shipment leave harbour. In parallel, Brewer would arrange for a small team of experienced men whose details they had on file to arrive in Cartagena shortly after
Larsen’s arrival. Given the frequency of the shipments, the attack could follow fairly swiftly on the heels of their arrival. With luck, they would be in and out in a couple of days,
lessening the chances of detection.
To complete the first phase of the reconnaissance properly, Larsen would need to talk to someone familiar with the cartel’s shipping operation. Brewer had said he was confident he could
get the name of a contact in the harbour master’s office who could give them the specifics they required. Due to the time pressure he felt they were under, Larsen had set sail for Cartagena
expecting the name and meeting arrangements to be ready for him on arrival. In the event, it had not arrived and, after a day of waiting with nothing materialising, he decided to spend some time
seeing what the city had to offer. If he stuck exclusively to the boat it might start to attract unwanted attention.
Cartagena had two main attractions, the historic El Centro and the beach nightlife of Bocagrande. He had spent only a couple of hours on the first night walking along the beachfront of the
latter. Between the constant stream of noise coming from the bars and the hordes of drunken revellers stumbling from one classless venue to another, he failed to see the attraction. El Centro was a
definite improvement. It was centuries old and the ancient forts and original wall which had been built to protect the city against sackings and raids gave the place a real sense of history. Drake
had laid siege to the city in one of the most famous episodes. The sailor had been eager to plunder the city for Queen and country. Larsen found that the winding narrow streets with their ancient
buildings were like night and day compared to the trashy Bocagrande. If he had not been so anxious about the upcoming mission, he would have enjoyed his evenings moving through the cobble-stoned
avenues, occasionally stopping at one of the plazas for dinner or a glass of wine.
A child who looked around seven or eight approached him smiling and held up a soda, his other hand outstretched, palm open. Larsen wasn’t particularly thirsty but he gave the child a few
coins for the can anyway.
He’d noticed the large number of street children. During his research, an article he’d read mentioned how Clinton had chosen Cartagena for a state visit in 2000 when he was launching
Plan Colombia, the forerunner to Plan Coca. The authorities had decided the children’s presence would ruin the city’s photo-op before the world’s media and their solution had been
straightforward: they’d rounded them up, herded them onto buses and transported them to other cities where they were simply dumped.
Larsen wondered how much longer he’d have to wait for Brewer.
“Why are we so concerned with distribution in the US? Why not just pull back and limit ourselves to production and wholesale? If we terminated any special relationships
we have and offered equal terms to everyone, we’d be insulated from the trouble.”
Madrigal knew that Rodolfo voiced an opinion that had growing support among his compatriots. The only reason they were currently so vulnerable, the argument went, was that they had linked
themselves too closely to the consumer end of their markets. Madrigal’s strategy over the years, in forming so many alliances, had been specifically to ensure that the Colombians were
involved in the process end-to-end, from harvest to street corner. This approach had ensured that their profits had soared during the good times, but it also made them more vulnerable when any part
of the chain was threatened. Their cash flow was closely tied to how well the retail market performed and, currently, it was struggling. The combination of the stiff new competition that was
emerging and the heightened danger to their retail partners meant revenues had plummeted.