Cherub Black Friday (27 page)

Examples include a Mexican Special Forces unit that defected en masse to work for a drug cartel. The soldiers then executed the cartel’s leaders and took control themselves. Thousands of rural peasants have been kidnapped, forced to dig smuggling tunnels under the US border and then murdered when the job is done so that they cannot reveal the tunnel’s location.

When Mexican President Felipe Calderon came to power in 2006, he quickly realised that police in many border areas were so corrupt that the drug gangs were running the show. More than 45,000 Mexican soldiers have now been deployed on anti-drug smuggling operations inside their own borders. In response, the drug cartels have become increasingly militarised in their fights with the government and each other.

Lying on the US/Mexican border, midway between the Atlantic and Pacific oceans, Ciudad Juárez and its twin city El Paso on the US side of the border have seen some of the most vicious fighting of the Mexican drug war. The three crossings between the two cities are among the busiest on the whole border. More trucks pass between the US and Mexico via Ciudad Juárez than at any other point, making it a prime spot for drug trafficking.

At various times smuggling through the city has been dominated by three different cartels, but after years of bitter fighting both inside cartels and between them, there is currently no clear picture of who controls what.

The city has also been particularly badly hit by the collapse of Mexican industry. Although the centre of town is relatively safe during daylight hours, the entire city is dangerous at night and outlying industrial areas where poverty and unemployment rates are above 50 per cent should be considered absolute no-go areas unless accompanied by a guide with excellent knowledge of local conditions.

During the 1980s, the Aramov Clan worked in close partnership with the Colombian cartels in flying heroin from the Middle East to South America or the Caribbean. The volatile situation with rival Mexican cartels, and US military presence in Afghanistan where most of the world’s heroin is produced, caused clan matriarch Irena Aramov to step back from large-scale heroin smuggling in the early 2000s.

However, the clan continued some drug smuggling operations for Mexican cartels, and is believed to have sold mortars and other heavy weaponry to the Mexican cartels.

When Leonid Aramov was disowned by his mother and forced to leave Kyrgyzstan, it was assumed that he would retreat to Russia or the Middle East. Although we currently have no idea what Leonid Aramov is up to in Mexico, he has no ties to the country and some kind of involvement in the drug war seems to be the only explanation for his presence.

Leonid does not have the cash or manpower to take on the Mexican gangs. It is most likely that he is using his extensive global contacts to obtain heavy weapons for the warring cartels.

Leonid’s former wife Tamara and youngest son Andre have agreed to work for TFU (Transnational Facilitator Unit) and are now living with Leonid Aramov in a luxury apartment complex in an affluent suburb of Ciudad Juárez.

The mission controller’s goals are as follows:

1.
  
Travel to Ciudad Juárez and liaise with DEA agent Lucinda Alvarez.

2.
  
Safely make contact with Andre and/or Tamara Aramov.

3.
  
Try and establish what Leonid Aramov is doing in Mexico.

4.
  
If it is safe to do so, take action against Leonid, either alone or in conjunction with Mexican authorities.

5.
  
Given Leonid’s volatile personality and the dangerous situation in Ciudad Juárez, Andre and Tamara will be pulled out after two weeks, even if no progress is made with the mission goals.

Most locals thought it insane to use the communal pool in fifteen-degree weather, so Andre had it to himself. He wasn’t a strong swimmer, but swimming was something he always enjoyed and as he wasn’t enrolled in school and had no friends within five thousand kilometres, a few lengths were his best shot at a break from his family.

A fifth length was over-ambitious, so he pulled to the side of the pool and caught his breath at the two-metre marker. A man’s legs coming along the poolside put an image of Boris in his head, but this dude wore the khaki shorts and green polo shirt of the apartment complex’s maintenance and cleaning crews.

‘James,’ Andre gasped, before looking back to see who was around.

‘Swim back to the shallow end,’ James said, speaking fast because their encounter had to look casual. ‘I’ve slid a com set and a few other things in the pocket of your robe.’

‘Right,’ Andre said.

‘And stop glancing around. If anyone asks, I asked you if the pool was hot enough.’

James backed away from the pool, grabbed the handles of a janitor’s cart and started moving. The pool was in a large rectangular garden, with individual staircases feeding from several dozen apartments. It seemed idyllic, until you noticed that every staircase had been beefed up with steel gates, spiked grilles, CCTV and occasionally an armed guard.

Although Leonid’s apartment didn’t have a guard, there was a chance he had associates living in other apartments who did. The brief conversation with Andre might have got their attention and even with a cap on, James’ blond head and fair skin made him distinctive in a country where a more Latin appearance was the norm.

A stringy old creature taking a jog blocked James’ path. She pointed and spoke angry Spanish too fast for James to keep up with.

‘Are you hosing out my rubbish area today?’ she snapped. ‘I reported the dead rat three days ago and nobody has been near.’

‘I’m new,’ James said, shrugging and trying to sound thick. ‘I’ll ask the supervisor.’

‘You guys were keener when you knocked for Christmas tips.’

‘I just started today,’ James said. ‘I’ll find disinfectant and a shovel.’

‘Make sure you do,’ the woman snapped, before setting off again.

As the old battleaxe jogged off, James was aware of Andre climbing out of the pool fifty metres behind. He sped up the cart, rolling it back the way he’d come, going through swinging black doors into a bare concrete storage area filled with pool chemicals and gardening kit.

After reaching down into the cart’s tool area and retrieving his automatic pistol, James tucked the gun into the back of his shorts and peered into the supervisor’s office. The grey-haired man was slumped across his desk fast asleep. The spray James had administered would keep him that way for at least another half hour and he hoped he didn’t get caught sleeping on the job.

Four flights of musty stairs, a door and a twenty-metre walk took him to a mesh gate at the rear of the apartment complex. After hitting a button to unlock the gate he walked fifty metres over badly cracked paving and jumped into the front passenger seat of a VW camper van.

A frizzy-haired Mexican-American named Lucinda Alvarez sat in the driver’s seat. She was a DEA field agent, who knew as much about Ciudad Juárez and its drug wars as anyone, and Dr D had called in a favour to get her temporarily assigned to TFU.

‘Did you make contact?’ Lucinda asked.

‘Three hours of nothing,’ James said. ‘As I was about to give up, Andre comes strolling out in a beach robe and swimming shorts. The com only has a range of a couple of kilometres, so best if you drive somewhere just out of sight.’

As Lucinda set the camper’s elderly diesel engine clattering, James stepped between the front seats into the rear compartment and squatted on a skinny foam mattress covered with a crocheted blanket. He pulled the gun sticking into his backside, then peeled off the green polo shirt he’d stolen from a locker in the storage area.

As Lucinda came out of the alley into slow-moving traffic, James found a backpack filled with espionage gear and grabbed a tiny receiver and a circular Perspex box with his com unit inside. Dropping it into his ear was a delicate operation that had to wait until Lucinda drove a few hundred metres and parked in an alleyway behind an abandoned pharmacy.

‘Andre, you hear me? Andre?’

James repeated the call a couple of times before Andre spoke in a panic.

‘Gimme a minute, I’m drying off.’

‘Find a quiet spot, make sure nobody can hear you talk.’

‘I’m in my bathroom,’ Andre said. ‘There’s two closed doors between me and anyone else.’

‘Great,’ James said. ‘So how’s it been?’

Andre ignored the question and spoke exuberantly. ‘I’m so glad it’s you. I was told it was gonna be this old guy called Ted.’

The gushing tone made James smile. ‘I think you’re gonna be the founder and sole member of the James Adams fan club.’

‘Journey was shit,’ Andre said. ‘It’s been three days. I tried finding another way to communicate, but there’s no landline and I couldn’t get my hands on anyone’s mobile.’

‘We’ve got com now,’ James said. ‘And there’s a tiny cellular unit in the pocket of your robe as well. It’ll work wherever you can get a phone signal.’

‘It’s not been too bad,’ Andre said. ‘Dad’s being sickeningly nice to my mum because he wants to get inside her pants. Alex is acting human. Boris is still a massive dick, but spends all his time with this Mexican called Silvia. It’s actually kinda funny when you hear them screwing in his room.’

James smiled. ‘Any clue what your dad’s up to?’

‘He’s definitely got stuff on,’ Andre said. ‘Like, he’s been across the courtyard a couple of times for meetings with this guy in apartment seventeen. And he’s got a little office set up and he’s always on his phone. He tries speaking in Spanish, but he’s really bad at it and you hear him losing his temper when people don’t understand.’

‘And your mum’s OK?’

‘So so,’ Andre said. ‘Dad’s taken us into town a couple of times, bought me clothes and a bunch of games for the Xbox. But he’s changed the wireless password so I can’t go online any more. Mum’s wary, because it only takes a tiny thing to set him off and he beat her up untold times when we were at the Kremlin.’

‘Your main job was to lead us to him,’ James said. ‘And that’s done. First sign of anything bad, we’ll whip you out of there.’

‘I’m pleased you’re back in touch,’ Andre said.

‘We need information,’ James said. ‘There are hundreds of cellphones inside the apartment complex. We haven’t been able to pick out your dad’s and your brother’s phones, but once we do, we can listen in to their calls. It would help if you got hold of their numbers. If getting hold of the phones is tricky, see if you can find a bill or any other paperwork lying around.’

‘There is one thing,’ Andre said. ‘I know my dad’s a liar, but he keeps talking about leaving soon and starting a new life with us. And I’ve heard my brothers talking about what they’ll do when they leave.’

‘Any idea where or when?’ James asked.

‘No idea where, but it’s soon, I think,’ Andre said. ‘My dad had his office door open when I walked past and he was dumping papers in this massive shredder. And he’s usually really messy, but all his stuff is kept in a couple of file boxes.’

James was intrigued, and also worried. They’d only just tracked Leonid down and the last thing they wanted was for him to disappear before they got any evidence.

‘Do they ever leave you on your own?’ James asked. ‘The key to whatever Leonid is up to will be in his office. He’s wary of computers, especially since we hacked him and stole most of his money. Papers in his office are our best shot at finding out what he’s up to.’

‘I could probably say I’m sick and stay home when they go out to dinner or something,’ Andre said. ‘But there’s a big lock on the office.’

James wished he’d trained Andre in lock picking, but it’s not a technique you can master on a ten-day course.

‘OK,’ James said. ‘It would be good if you could get in the office, but don’t take any risks unless you run them by me first.’

Lucinda shouted a reminder from up front. ‘Sat-navs.’

‘Oh,’ James said. ‘We had one other idea. If you get a chance, go down to your dad’s car, or your brothers’ if they’ve got cars, and check the sat-navs. We’re trying to work out what gang Leonid’s working with and if we know where your dad is going for his meetings it would be a major clue.’

‘Will do,’ Andre said.

‘Anything else you want to ask?’

‘I’m good,’ Andre said.

‘Now we’re in touch, I’m going to try and find a room to rent nearby,’ James said. ‘So speak to me on the com any time you like, and remember what I said: no big risks without running it by me first.’

Ryan watched through the balcony windows of Natalka’s corner room as sun set over the Kremlin’s runway. It was like old times, with a tang of jet fuel in the air and five roaring planes lined up for take-off. And while the last big departure had sent four crews to their doom, this group faced a more positive future.

Kremlin mechanics had worked over Christmas, cannibalising parts from eight of the clan’s most modern freighters, to make five models in decent condition. For the first time on record, Aramov planes had been fitted with new tyres, modern navigation equipment, and most importantly, each engine had been modified with a hundred-thousand-dollar hush-kit, which enabled them to pass strict noise regulations enforced by most wealthy countries.

Over the years, Kremlin mechanics had disguised planes with liveries ranging from the UN to the Vietnamese Air Force, but these five now legitimately bore the silver paintwork and red crescent logo of an Islamic medical charity.

The story Amy sent around the Kremlin was that a wealthy benefactor had leased the planes and crews for charity work. But there would soon be no Aramov Clan to pay, so the planes were effectively a donation. Extra cash to pay crews, fuel and maintenance for the next ten years had also been donated out of the millions seized from Leonid Aramov.