The Death Relic (22 page)

The driver went by the name of ‘Chase’.

Instead of a plain sedan, Chase was driving a bright green Volkswagen Beetle. It had a white roof, an illuminated ‘Taxi’ sign, and the word ‘Taxi’ painted on its two doors. With its rounded frame and neon paint job, it would stand out like a lightning bug on a dark night in most places, but not in Mexico City where bright green cars swarmed the streets by the thousand. Chase didn’t voice it, but he assumed some Mexican official had received a huge kickback when he’d agreed to buy that many Beetles. They were fun little cars, but they didn’t make very practical taxis.

Unbeknownst to him, the Mexico City government agreed with the sentiment, which is why they had recently outlawed the use of VW Beetles as licensed taxis in the city. The vehicles were still popular as ‘street’ or ‘gypsy’ cabs – independent taxis that picked up fares – but licensed companies had to remove them from their fleets, since they were deemed to be unsafe for passengers. With two doors rather than four, the government had realized it was too easy to abduct people in a Beetle, as it was virtually impossible to escape from the backseat.

Fittingly, Hector and Angel were quite familiar with the Beetle.

Their flash kidnapping business thrived because of that car.

Now one was tracking them to the ransom drop.

Two others were bringing Hector’s kids to the site.

The driver in charge of Daniela was nicknamed ‘Cash’. At first he’d been dubbed ‘Girl’, since he was delivering Daniela to the plaza, but he objected so vehemently to the feminine codename that they changed it. He claimed that his duty of picking up the ransom money was just as important as dropping off the girl, so he fought for ‘Cash’ and won.

Of course, Tiffany failed to tell him that the codename ‘Girl’ had nothing to do with Daniela and everything to do with his whining during the trip. The truth was the other guys had wanted to call him ‘Bitch’ because he’d been acting like one ever since they arrived in Mexico City. She had softened it to ‘Girl’ because she didn’t want the crew swearing in Daniela’s presence, but the more Cash complained, the more tempted Tiffany was to change his name again.

Somehow ‘Bitch’ seemed more appropriate.

The third driver, who was in charge of Antonio, was nicknamed ‘Bro’. Not only because he was in charge of the brother, but because he had the annoying habit of calling everyone ‘bro’. She figured if his codename were ‘Bro’, it would force him to stop using the term on the radio. Plus, she hoped he would hear how stupid it sounded when everyone called him ‘Bro’.

Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect.

It made him use the term even more.

Tiffany, whose nose, ears and cheeks were slathered in a thick layer of zinc oxide ointment to conceal her face, strolled around the plaza. As luck should have it, several dozen protestors were holding a small rally on the southeast corner of the Zócalo. Some people held sheets painted with slogans. Others chanted as they passed out literature. She didn’t know what they were protesting about and she didn’t care, as long they kept it peaceful. The last thing she wanted was an increased police presence in the plaza – not with Hector set to arrive any minute.

She glanced at her watch. He had less than five minutes to meet his deadline. After that, things would get tricky. She had done everything in her power to make the children as comfortable as possible during the last sixty hours. They were fed their favourite meals. They watched their favourite movies. They were treated like guests, not hostages. In her mind, the children were nothing more than bargaining chips. They had done nothing wrong, so they were treated with kindness and respect. She knew they couldn’t control who their father was. In fact, they were so young they probably didn’t even know what he did for a living. To them, he was simply their father – not a violent criminal who made his living from other people’s pain.

Unfortunately, if their father didn’t hurry up, she was supposed to penalize the kids for his tardiness. To encourage Hector’s promptness, her boss had told him that one appendage would be cut off for every minute he was late. She understood her boss’s rationale. The threat of physical violence against a loved one was a common ploy in the abduction game. Hector’s men used it constantly during virtual and traditional kidnappings. But it was something she didn’t want to do. Blowing a bad guy’s head off was one thing, but chopping off a child’s finger was quite another. There were some things even she wasn’t willing to do.

‘Chase,’ she said into her earpiece, ‘what’s your ETA?’

He answered. ‘About two minutes out.’

She glanced at her watch. They would barely make the deadline. ‘Keep me posted.’

‘Will do, Red.’

‘How’s it looking, Boom?’

He scanned the plaza from his vantage point. ‘Looks clear, but not for long.’

She froze, concerned. ‘Why?’

Boom laughed. ‘Because I’m about to blow this fucker up.’

She cracked a smile. ‘Church, what about you?’

‘I was fine until I heard some tourist say the cathedral’s falling down.’

She nodded. ‘I heard that, too.’

Church glanced up at the cathedral, paranoid. ‘You, what?’

‘Don’t worry! I promise you’ll die fast,’ Boom assured him.

‘Not funny. Not funny at all.’

Chase spoke again. ‘One minute out.’

Boom continued to tease Church. ‘Jesus Christ, will you look at all that scaffolding? And that isn’t
American
scaffolding. That’s
Mexican
scaffolding. There’s no way that stuff will hold. That shit’s gonna look like a game of pick-up sticks when I’m done with it.’

Church leapt off his bench. ‘That does it. I’m out of here.’

She turned towards the cathedral. ‘Stay put, and that’s an order.’

‘But—’

She cut him off. ‘If you leave your post, you lose your share.’

He growled at her but said nothing.

She continued her rundown. ‘Cash, where are you?’

‘Circling the fucking block. Like I have been. For an hour.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Bro, what about you?’

‘I’m in position, bro. Just say the word and I’ll be there.’

She nodded, feeling confident, as she glanced towards the road from the east.

The fun was about to begin.

With weapons on his mind and two busloads of tourists pouring through the gates of Tulum, Payne excused himself from the site and headed back to the H2 where he could call the Pentagon. Payne knew he walked a fine line with Raskin, who wasn’t obliged to help him, but did so out of a sense of loyalty and friendship, so he was reluctant to phone him again. But the more he pondered the cache of weapons in the Hummer, the more apprehensive he became.

Something about them felt
off
.

As if they didn’t belong to Hamilton.

Known for his gut instincts, Payne decided to follow his hunch and pursue the gun angle, even if it meant pissing off his friend.

Raskin answered on the first ring. ‘Research.’

‘Randy, it’s Jon.’

He immediately tensed. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Yeah, I’m fine.’

‘What about DJ?’

‘He’s fine, too.’

Raskin breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Then why are you calling me?’

‘I need your help.’

‘No shit! The only time you call is when you need my help. I’m pretty sure we established that in our earlier conversation.’

‘I know we did, but—’

‘Listen,’ Raskin said, ‘things are a little bit hectic for me at the moment. I haven’t had a chance to run down your information yet.’

‘Good.’

‘
Good?
Did you say
good
? I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting that. Why is it good?’

‘Because I have something else to add to my list.’

‘OK!
That’s
more like it.
That’s
the Jon I know. You’re not pulling back. You’re merely piling on. Just once I’d like you to call me and say, “Thanks anyway, but I figured it out on my own.” That would truly make my day.’

Payne smiled at the sarcasm. ‘I wouldn’t hold my breath.’

‘Don’t worry, I won’t.’

‘If it makes you feel any better, I’m merely tweaking your original search. I’m not adding a brand-new category. In my opinion,
that
would be rude.’

‘Fine. Which part are you tweaking?’

‘We found more weapons.’

Raskin opened a digital notepad on his screen. It contained information about Hamilton’s single-action revolver from their earlier conversation. ‘Another Mexican special?’

‘Nope. Two AKs and some C-4.’

‘Where?’

‘In Hamilton’s vehicle.’

Raskin grunted. ‘Is he an anthropologist or a mercenary?’

Payne smiled. ‘That’s what I’m trying to find out.’

‘Well, I’ll see what I can do. The AKs might be easier to trace than the revolver. Big guns tend to get more attention in Mexico.’

‘That’s what I figured. That’s why I called you back.’

‘Fine. Give me their serial numbers.’

‘Hold on. Give me a second. I gotta open the Hummer.’

Raskin grumbled. ‘Come on, man. I’m in a hurry.’

‘Sorry about that, but I’m in a public setting. I have to do this discreetly.’

‘In that case, just text me the numbers.’

Payne nodded. He didn’t want to press his luck with Raskin. ‘Good idea. I’ll send you a text as soon as I can.’

‘Great. Can’t wait.’

‘And as a token of thanks, I’ll send you that bikini photo you asked for. I snapped a picture during lunch that I’m sure you’ll enjoy.’

‘Awesome. I’m looking forward to it.’

Payne was about to hang up when he remembered one last thing. ‘Wait!’

Raskin sighed. ‘What it is now?’

‘Quick computer question.’

‘Holy fuck! Can’t you tell that I’m busy?’

‘Yes, I can, but this is important. I actually talked to another computer guy about this because I didn’t want to disturb you, but—’

Raskin cut him off. ‘Hold up! You did
what
?’

‘I said I talked to anoth—’

‘Oh no! I heard you the first time,’ Raskin snapped. ‘You talked to
another
computer guy behind my back. Why would you do that?’

‘I didn’t want to bother you.’

‘You didn’t want to
bother
me?’ he mocked. ‘Do I know this nerd?’

Payne shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. He lives in Mexico.’

‘He lives in
Mexico
? Oh, I see how you are. You leave the country for a little R&R and you immediately forget about your man in DC. Well, Captain Payne, the only R&R you should be worried about is Randy Raskin.’

Payne laughed at the jealous rant. He knew Raskin was only kidding. At least he
hoped
he was kidding. If not, they needed to have a serious conversation. ‘Just a minute. I thought you said you were busy?’

‘I am, but I couldn’t resist. I needed to blow off some steam.’

‘No apologies necessary. Glad I could help.’

‘So, what’s your computer question?’

‘I tracked down some security footage from the hotel. A second before Hamilton disappears, the screen goes black. No static. No disruption of power. The image simply goes black.’

‘For how long?’

‘Precisely five minutes.’

‘Precisely? What, did you time it?’

‘Didn’t have to. The video counter kept rolling during the blackout.’

Raskin leaned back in his chair. ‘Is that so?’

‘I checked the camera before I left the hotel. There’s no way to access it without a ladder. It’s mounted high on a wall in the front driveway.’

‘Did your boyfriend do a system check?’

‘You mean DJ?’

Raskin laughed. ‘Not your girlfriend. I meant the
other
computer guy.’

Payne smiled. He was used to Raskin busting his balls about Jones, not about other people. ‘He did, and he claims everything is running fine. The thing that confused him the most is the file itself. He said the simplest solution would have been to delete the whole video. Just wipe it out completely. But that isn’t what happened here. Someone took the time to conceal one tiny sliver. He can’t figure out how it was done, and I can’t figure out why.’

Intrigued by the problem, Raskin leaned back even further. The chair groaned in protest as he considered the pieces of the puzzle. ‘Your boyfriend’s right. The simplest solution would have been to wipe out the entire file. Of course, that might have been noticed.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘Most security systems have a series of checks and balances to guarantee a clean operation. Scans are scheduled throughout the day to monitor the health of the most important files. If a file is missing or a hobbit is detected, the operator is notified.’

‘Did you say “hobbit”?’

‘Yes, I did.’

‘Like the character from
The Lord of the Rings
?’

Raskin corrected him. ‘Hobbits are a race of diminutive beings that occupy Middle Earth, not a single character.’

‘Good Lord! You are a nerd.’

‘I never said I wasn’t.’

‘Well, I’m not, so I need you to explain what a computer hobbit is.’

‘It used to be the name of an eight-bit Soviet computer system, but those suckers are obsolete. And by
suckers
, I mean the computer systems
and
the Soviets. We sure kicked their asses in the Cold War, didn’t we?’

Payne ignored the taunt. ‘And what does it mean now?’

‘It’s a file that comes up short. You know, like a hobbit.’

‘Define short.’

Raskin put up his feet on the desk. ‘Most security systems are set up in loops. Five hours, ten hours, twelve hours, whatever. At the end of that period, the old file is saved and a new file is hatched. Because of these time limits, every file should have the same amount of information. The images will be different, but the size of the files is identical.’

‘I’m with you so far.’

‘Now, if something happens to one of these files – the camera goes down, the software malfunctions, or someone deletes a section – the size of the file is going to be shortened.’

‘Making it a hobbit.’

‘Exactly. But that’s not what happened in Mexico. Someone actually took the time to black out a section of the video. That means its size remained the same as the other files.’