A Touch of Greed (18 page)

“You will not be alive to see the trauma we will inflict, David. That is too bad for you.”

As Yosef exited the mosque into the night air, his hand felt moist and he realized he needed to clean up. He found a coffee shop and used the bathroom to wash his hands. As he did this, he wondered for just a moment about the responsibility he had bestowed upon Sadeem. The man was a loyal follower and the cousin of one of Yosef’s closest friends. It was not someone they had stumbled upon arbitrarily. His conscience was clear.

As Yosef wiped his hands, he heard a beep from his cell phone. When he looked to see the text message, he smiled. It was from Sadeem:

Device is on the way. All is well.

Yosef had just taken one step closer to becoming a large player in the world of international terrorism. His words would no longer be a frail voice in the wind. He was about to bring the United Palestinian Force to the front of the pack and this one fact kept the smile on his face all the way home.

* * *

They pulled into the motel parking lot and entered the small office with the ragged look of four weary businessmen looking for a place to stay. It was an easy act to pull off.

The office was situated at the end of a single row of motel rooms. It was an L-shaped building with the office jutting out as to allow a perfect view of the entrance to each room. It was a small office with wood-paneled walls and a plastic brochure dispenser next to the door which held pamphlets advertising facilities like water parks and shoreline vacation spots many miles from the desolate border town.

The man behind the counter sat on a stool and was watching a rodeo on a small TV. He was young and seemed annoyed to be dragged away from his show.

“Can I help you?” the man said, standing and assessing the four men with a leery expression. He was bone thin and Nick thought he looked a little too much like Norman Bates.

Nick stayed back and let Tommy do his thing. He engaged the man with his million dollar smile.

“Yeah,” Tommy said. “We need a place for the night.”

The man looked up at the clock on the wall showing that it hadn’t yet reached noon.

“You do have a place available, right?” Tommy asked, looking out the window at the near empty parking lot.

The young man glanced at the four of them and asked, “How many rooms?”

“Just one,” Tommy said with an easy expression. He pointed to Nick and said, “Me and my boss are staying the night, the other two are leaving and coming back tomorrow.”

Even after this explanation the man didn’t move. He didn’t reach for a log book or a key, or even gaze at his ten-year-old computer behind the counter. Instead, he asked, “What are you guys in town for?”

This didn’t dampen Tommy’s enthusiasm. He reached into his pocket and slapped a business card on the counter. “We’re here to install a new Dexa Scanner in Dr. Mitchell’s office.”

“A what?” the man said, examining the card of a real businessman who allowed Tommy to use his identity for the charade.

“A Dexa Scanner,” Tommy said. “It’s a machine which measures bone density.”

Still, the man remained motionless and watched Matt examine the facility with his FBI-trained eyes.

“What’s the doctor doing with something like that?” the man asked.

“Excuse me?” Tommy said.

“I mean, why does he need some kind of scanner in a town this size?”

Now, Tommy tilted his head. “Do you have any idea how prevalent osteoporosis is?”

The man shrugged.

“One in every two women over the age of fifty will fracture a bone due to this condition. Did you know that?”

The man stared.

“Are there any woman over the age of fifty living in this town?”

“I guess.”

“Well, then Dr. Mitchell is installing a new device to help diagnose those woman with low bone density and get them headed toward a healthier lifestyle.”

This seemed to satisfy the guy’s curiosity, so he finally looked at his computer screen and moved his mouse around. “We have room eight available.”

“Room eight sounds just peachy,” Tommy said.

“That’s eighty-nine dollars.”

Tommy handed him the phony credit card to match the phony business card. Both of them set up on short notice using FBI muscle to expedite the process.

As the motel clerk swiped Tommy’s card through the credit card machine, he said, “Will you be using the phone?”

“You’re kidding, right?” Tommy asked.

Nick could tell Tommy was running low on patience with the guy, so Nick gave him a look and his cousin frowned.

The clerk handed Tommy back his card along with a key.

As the four of them headed out the door, Tommy looked back at the man and said, “Thanks for the hospitality.” Then he added another winning smile for good measure.

As they grabbed their bags from the trunk of the car, Tommy said, “Punk,” under his breath.

“Relax,” Nick said. “They’ll know we’re here soon enough. We don’t need to give them a head start.”

The parking lot was gravel with nothing but desert lining the opposite side of the street. A six foot aluminum fence ran parallel to the road across from them representing the border to Mexico. Nick thought one swift kick could bring down the entire fence.

They made their way to room eight and when Tommy opened the door, the musty smell hit them like a rotten sack of potatoes.

“Aw, shit,” Matt said.

Nick waved his hand in front of his face, like he was leading a pack of hunters through the African Bush. “Jeez, how long has this been vacant?” 

Stevie set up his laptop computer on the night table next to the first bed and began hitting the keypad with authority. Nick dropped his duffle bag while Matt went into the bathroom and closed the door.

Tommy whispered to Nick, “I’m a little worried about your partner.”

“He’ll be fine,” Nick said.

Tommy shook his head, but said no more.

When Matt came out of the bathroom pulling up his zipper, Nick said, “Stevie will get the drone back in the air while Tommy gets the lay of the land.”

Tommy whirled the car keys around his index finger. “Okay,” he said, pulling open the door. “I’ll be back.”

“Tommy,” Nick said.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t do too much,” was all Nick could say.

Tommy grinned. He said, “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Then the door shut behind him like a vault, sealing the three FBI agents inside the dungeon of dust.

Matt pulled apart the curtains and stood by the window, watching Tommy spit up gravel as the BMW sped out of the parking lot. They were less than five miles from Antonio Garza’s compound and Nick could practically smell the revenge oozing from Matt’s ears.

On Stevie’s computer screen, an aerial image of the desert floor came to life. Nick watched the landscape while dialing Walt on his cell phone.

“You in?” Walt asked.

“Yeah.”

“They know you’re there?”

“Not yet,” Nick said, watching Matt stare out the window like a caged tiger.

“Nick,” Walt said. “Are you doing the right thing?”

“I doubt it. But someone has to find that bomb before it leaves the neighborhood.”

There was a sigh on the other end of the line.

“I could send in a squad of Special Forces,” Walt said, stating the obvious.

“No,” Nick said, firmly. “They’ll just crawl under rocks like cockroaches. We don’t have time to search every inch of this place.”

“You do understand I don’t like this plan. Not one bit.” There was a bite to Walt’s words. He’d just lost three FBI agents in the past few days and there was a pain lingering in the tone of his voice.

“We’re okay,” Nick assured him. “Any word from the agent in Mexico?”

“The last communication said he was with the bomb. That’s all.”

“He’s pretty worthless without our help.”

Walt didn’t need to respond to that.

“Okay,” Nick said. “We’ll try this tactic until midnight. If we don’t recover the bomb by then, go ahead and bring the cavalry.”

“Listen, Fisk is on a plane right now to Mexico City for the presidential debate. He’ll be speaking with President Salcido, trying to get help with this.”

“Forgive me if I don’t hold my breath,” Nick quipped.

“I’m trying everything.”

“I know you are, Walt. Just keep this place quarantined. I don’t want anything to escape.”

“You’re positive the bomb is going through Denton?”

“Yes.”

“Good, because it’s sealed up tight. Only one road in and one road out.”

“What about the desert?”

“We have satellites tracking the perimeter,” Walt said. “If you’re right about this, we’ve limited the damage to that border town.”

“Good,” Nick said, checking on Stevie, who seemed ready for instructions. “Let me get back to this.”

“Nick?”

“Yeah.”

“Please. Don’t. Once you find the bomb, we’ll get Garza. I promise.”

Nick watched Matt continue his fascination out the window.

“I’ll do the best I can,” Nick said, seeing Matt tap his foot on the worn carpet. “But I can’t make any guarantees.”

Chapter 22

President Merrick sat behind his desk and ran a hand through his hair while reading the latest e-mail update from CIA Director Ken Morris. There was no new information for him to relay so the Director had used hypothetical scenarios as substitutes for solid intelligence. Merrick was a master at detecting long-winded reports without substance, so he deleted the e-mail halfway through reading it.

He grabbed his cell phone and pushed a contact button. On the third ring, Fisk answered, “Hello, Mr. President,” in a sarcastic tone.

“Forget I ever said anything. I don’t want you calling me that again. I’ve had people call me asshole with a nicer connotation.”

“So what’s up?”

“Ken has nothing for me,” Merrick said. “Nick and Matt are holed up in this border town trying to find the bomb and I thought you might have landed already.”

“Nope, we’re circling the airport now,” Fisk said. “There’s so much smog down here, I can barely see the city.”

“Well, despite my warning, everyone’s excited about your visit down there. Salcido thinks you’re coming to bring our endorsement and Rodriguez thinks you’re coming to kiss his ring before he’s sworn in.”

“Do you know the focus of the debate?”

“Yes,” Merrick said. “How to deal with the cartels.”

“Great,” Fisk said. “One wants them all dead, the other wants to offer them half the country as ransom for not gunning down the civilian population.”

“Be careful down there,” Merrick said. “Don’t go wandering off the trail.”

“You sent the Eighty-First airborne with me, for crying out loud. I could take over the country if I wanted.”

“I’m serious, Sam.”

“I know.”

“Also,” Merrick added, “your meeting with Rodriguez has been leaked to the press. It’s already hit the New York Times webpage.”

“Good,” Fisk said. “They’ll be zeroing in on us while I’m here.”

“It’s a risky move. It makes us look like we’re kowtowing to the cartels.”

“I realize that.”

Merrick leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. “Sam, do you think this will work?”

There was a long pause while the sound of plane engines hummed in the background. Finally, Fisk said, “Salcido’s been fighting these drug dealers for too long to give up now. We’re making some real progress and they know it. It’s imperative he remains in office.”

Merrick nodded. “Okay, buddy. Make this quick and get home. We have all this extra food leftover without you.”

“Yes, Mr. President.”

* * *

Garza saw the Humvees coming from his office window. A line of dust trailed laterally across the desert floor until it reached the narrow road which led up toward the compound. He ran down the steps to the courtyard and waited as the gates creaked open and the vehicles paraded around the semicircle driveway and parked. Victor exited from the back seat of the last Humvee. He greeted Garza with a smile and a handshake.

Neither man spoke as Victor pointed to the blindfolded man in the front seat. Everyone followed their instructions precisely. Victor opened the tailgate and exposed the package. A plastic case the size of a small golf bag, wrapped excessively in black tape. Without a word, a couple of soldiers wearing gardening gloves gently lifted the bomb from its resting place. They carefully maneuvered the explosive onto a waiting flatbed cart.

As the soldiers secured the bomb onto the cart with rope, Sadeem turned his blindfolded head in the front seat and said, “I hope you are being careful with that.”

The soldiers methodically wheeled the bomb down the path to the back of the building, the wheels squeaking on the brick pavers.

“Shut up,” Victor said, as Garza motioned him to get their passenger.

Victor opened the car door and pulled Sadeem from his seat. The man stumbled momentarily, then regained his footing.

“I hope you are keeping me with the package because it is very dangerous,” Sadeem said, his voice sounding defensive and not at all authoritative.

The group of soldiers surrounded Sadeem as Victor escorted him down the driveway to the back of the building. Garza had jumped ahead and went underneath the secured overhang of the rear entrance to the complex. The canopy had been added to the structure to prevent satellite images to view the entrance and the oversized elevator which was used to transport numerous paraphernalia to Garza’s personal basement hideaway.

Garza pushed the button as the soldiers approached. The door opened and the elevator offered plenty of room for everyone, including Sadeem, Victor and three of the soldiers manning the flatbed cart.

“We are going down,” Sadeem said, as the elevator descended. “I assume that means we’re heading toward a tunnel.”

Garza didn’t like this sort of narration. He signaled to Victor by padding his chest and his number one nodded, assuring him the man had been checked for a wire.

“You will now be silent,” Victor said. “Or your next words shall be your last.”

Garza smiled at Victor, the man taking control of the situation with perfect timing.