The Assassin's Case (10 page)

              After downing a healthy swallow he placed the mug on the bar. He turned in his seat to scan the pool area just as Jaime began to enter the pool. She wore a black one-piece bathing suit with a matching black and white wrap around her hips. It seemed the trip to the hotel gift shop had been a success. She spotted him and waved.

              She navigated the steps into the shallow water and waded toward Grant. As she drew closer he realized his gut was tensed so his stomach muscles would be visible. She sat next to him and looked him over, being unabashed about checking him out. Her eyes sparkled and a mischievous smile lifted the corners of her mouth.

              Grant felt heat rise in his cheeks. He had tried to keep himself in shape, as much out of necessity as anything else. But for a woman to notice it, a beautiful woman … well it was flattering. “You want something to drink? How about one of those big coconuts?” He inclined his head toward a man sucking the concoction through a straw.

              “Maybe later. I better just have a coke.” She cut her eyes at him again. “Better make that a diet coke.”

* * * * *

Tedesco sipped his beer trying to remain calm. This was his third
Tecate
, but he had surreptitiously poured them into the sand after only taking a couple of small swigs. He had a high tolerance for beer but he needed all his faculties about him. He patted the case on his lap, its feel reassuring. If it was stolen Alfred’s family would die. Underneath his Tommy Bahama short sleeve button down, the cold steel of the forty-five automatic tucked in his waistband provided very little assurance. The thought of having to use it galled, but until Alfred’s family was safe he would do what was necessary, whatever the personal cost.

              Tedesco tensed when a figure approached from the beach. He breathed a sigh and relaxed the white-knuckled grip on his mug. It was just a boy. The youngster had an Iguana perched on each of his shoulders. The creatures had skin of bright green and their long tails almost touched the ground. “You buy,
senor
? Good pet. Very good.”   

              “No. No
gracias
.” Tedesco waved him off.

“Just five-hundred
pesos
.”

“No thank you.” Head hanging low, the boy turned away.

“Wait,” Tedesco waved him back. “Here.” He handed over a twenty dollar bill.

“Gracias. Muchos gracias, senor.” The boy’s face beamed and he held out the lizard.

“No. You keep him.” Tedesco held his palm up in front of him.

The boy nodded, smiling as he backed away to find another sucker.

“You’re a kind hearted man, Ted. I mean, Jimmy,” Alfred said. “It’s going to take me a while to get used to calling you by your real name.”

Tedesco forced a smile. As hard as it was on him to wait like this, time must be creeping for Alfred. They continued waiting in silence until a mariachi band began to play. During the first few notes of the song their wait ended. A man dressed as any other tourist, his almond colored skin the only hint of his ethnicity. At least until he spoke.

The man joined them at the table and slipped into a chair. “Greetings
senors
.” His accent was thick.
Senors
came out like
seeen-yors
. “Where is the case?”

Alfred remained silent. His eyes betraying a combination of dread and hatred.

Tedesco leaned on the table. “We have it. Before we go further we need proof of life.”

“We are businessmen. We will only kill Dr. Morgan’s family if it will benefit us. Right now it doesn’t. Give us what we want and we’ll return them unharmed.”

“I’m sorry,” Tedesco responded. “That’s not good enough.”

The man leaned forward. “You are in no position to barter. You are lucky we haven’t already killed them. We lost two men.” He held up two fingers. “Two. Some of my
compradres
were ready to slit the prisoner’s throats.”

“You son of a bitch,” Alfred said. “If you hurt them I’ll … I’ll …”

The smile vanished from the kidnapper’s face. “You’ll do nothing except what I tell you.”

“Okay let’s calm down.” Tedesco reached to his lap and pulled out the case. “Here’s the deal. You take what I give. In this case is a sample of the cure and the formula to make the virus. Of course we have omitted a couple of key processes. You won’t be able to duplicate it without our help.” He leaned back in his chair and took a sip of beer. “Take it to your people. Then call me. I want to hear the voice of everyone in the Doctor’s family or no deal. We walk.”

“We can just take it.”

“Good luck with that. You try, I kill you. Period.” Tedesco leaned forward again and glowered at the little man, filling his vision with his bulk. “Besides. You know we’re not stupid enough to let you find it. I know you’ve been watching us. Are you willing to risk losing what you want?”

“You drive a hard bargain,
amigo
.” The man spat the word
amigo
like a curse. He grabbed the case and stood. “I’ll get back to you.”

Tedesco tapped his watch. “You better make it quick. I don’t hear from you by nine p.m. we disappear. The formula with us.”

The man tilted his head, gave a two fingered salute, and walked away.

* * * * *

“I’ve placed the tracking device. Meet me in the parking lot.” Evans’ voice broke into the conversation between Tedesco and the kidnapper’s representative. Tedesco was being very persuasive.

              When the man stood to leave, Grant leaned in close to Jaime, just two lovers sharing an intimate moment. “The guy’s leaving now,” Grant whispered into the radio Jaime held near his mouth. “When he’s out of sight I’ll ease to the parking area.”

              As soon as the man strolled out of the pool area Grant stood. He leaned to kiss Jaime on the cheek. He had to keep up appearances after all.

“They’re all yours,” he told her. “Keep an eye on them. Call me if you see anyone tailing me.” He grabbed his wadded shirt and the radio off the bar.

              “Watch yourself,” Jaime said.

              Something in her eyes made Grant feel she wanted to say something else, and they locked gazes for just a moment, but she didn’t say anything. As he turned to go she gripped his fingertips and gave a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be careful.” With an effort of will he forced himself to turn and wade out of the pool.

FOURTEEN

Grant mounted the pool steps and crossed the bridge separating the shallow end of the pool with the bar and the deep end. Once he reached a sidewalk it only took him a couple of minutes to reach the parking lot. When he arrived he scanned the area, searching for Evans. The majority of vehicles belonged to the hotel. An engine turned over and a faded green convertible jeep, with the top down, pulled out of a space behind a shuttle bus. Evans pulled next to Grant and he hopped in the passenger’s seat.

              They pulled out of the hotel onto Federal highway 200 and headed south. They left the northern hotel zone, passed through the downtown area known as the
Malecon
which featured the landmark
Iglesia de Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe
, the church of Saint Guadalupe. The area also featured a seaside boardwalk and
Gringo
Gulch, so named due to the numerous homes in the area owned by rich
norteamericanos
. They continued driving into the south hotel zone, past the romantic zone, and finally out of the city itself.

              Evans tailed their quarry using a GPS with map overlay mounted on the dash, allowing them to remain out of sight of the car they were following. With Banderas Bay on their right, they rolled down
the highway for four or five miles and passed through the small village of Mismaloya. From the travel info
Grant
read, this little hamlet had been the setting of
Night of the Iguana
, the film which made the area famous and began its popularity in the early sixties. Since then scores of TV shows and movies had been made in the area, including one of
Grant
’s favorite action flicks,
Predator.

              Once out of the village the scores of buses and taxis thinned steadily to the point that they were virtually alone on the road. The highway wended southeast away from the coastline and into the mountains.

Evans removed his foot from the accelerator. “He’s slowing down.” The blinking dot stopped altogether then began to move west at a much slower pace than before. “Looks like he’s left the main road. This is probably it.” 

They allowed the man plenty of time to get out of sight before proceeding. While they attempted to locate the turn off the blinking dot stopped again, about a half mile off the road. They drove past a gated drive, equipped with cameras, and a keypad access panel.

Grant
pointed to a curve in the highway. “When you round the bend slow down and I’m going to jump out.”
Grant
grabbed a duffel bag from the back seat and placed it in his lap. “Is everything here?”

Evans nodded but
Grant
un-zipped it anyway and dug through its contents. “All right.” He sealed the bag. “Give me six hours.”

“I’ll head back to Mismaloya. That should still be in radio range, depending on how far you have to go in. I won’t be so conspicuous there. If I don’t hear from you I’ll head back this way. Meet you right here.” Scott pulled to the side of the road. “You sure you don’t want me to come.”

“No. Not this time. I think this is a one person job. But thanks.”
Grant
stepped out of the jeep and it pulled away. He turned and sprinted away from the road into the jungle. As soon as he was out of sight of the road he stopped, set the duffel on the ground, and began to unpack, laying the items out beside it. Backpack, olive drab fatigues, hat, boots, GPS unit, camera, binoculars, canteen, his pistols, face paint. A case he pulled free contained a Heckler and Koch 911 semi-automatic rifle with a collapsible stock. He assembled the weapon and attached the scope. He pulled out the only item left in the bag, a ghillie suit. It was a pre-fab job of the type found in hunting stores. If he needed to don the suit to get close he would have to add some leaves and twigs from the local trees to make it more convincing.

After pulling on the fatigues he smeared the dark green paint on his face. He strapped on the pistols, one in a holster on his right leg, the other in a shoulder holster, looped the canteen around his neck, and attached the GPS unit to his wrist. When finished dressing, he blasted himself in a fog of bug spray. He crammed the empty duffel, the camera, binoculars, and the Ghillie into the backpack and shrugged into it. Last he grabbed the rifle. The weapons were an absolute last resort. If he was drawn into a fire-fight the kidnappers would be alerted, further endangering Morgan’s family.

Grant
stood still, attenuating himself to the sounds of the forest. These mountains were full of wildlife. A vast array of tropical birds, lizards, snakes, insects, arachnids, and mammals. Many of them dangerous. Some of the more recognizable and deadly denizens were Boas, Coral snakes, rattlers, and scorpions. Although rare, the occasional jaguar was also known to hunt in the area. The Chupacabra, the mythical goat sucker, was also rumored to haunt these jungles. Not to mention the plethora of biting insects. Forcing himself into the sniper’s mindset he eased into the jungle, attempting to become a part of it. To rush was to die. And more lives than his were at stake.

* * * * *

Lying in the fronds of a clump of low growing tropical bushes
Grant studied the sprawling compound beneath him through his binoculars. He dabbed the sweat off his forehead with a sleeve so he wouldn’t smear away the face paint. Over the last two hours he had begun to feel his age for the first time in a long while. Sneaking and crawling through dense sweltering jungle was an activity for the young. An encounter with a rather large Boa Constrictor had almost given him heart failure. While lying in the brush, scanning the open area around a stream before he crossed it, the creature had crawled over him.

              Yep. He was definitely too old. Grant was positioned on one of the hills bordering the mansion and its grounds. The dense jungle and mountainous terrain provided an almost impenetrable curtain to shield the compound from unwanted observation. A yacht and a couple of speedboats were moored at a wooden dock jutting from a strip of private beach at the rear of the property.

              Grant suspected this place was either borrowed or rented. The expansive windows on the front of the main house afforded clear views of some of the interior rooms. There were no maids, butlers, or any household staff in evidence. No kids or wives. None of the ubiquitous bathing beauties by the pool either. What kind of scum sucking criminals didn’t have babes by the pool? Professionals.

Men with guns were everywhere. All coordinated and alert. So far, Grant counted twenty. The only one who appeared to be Mexican was the contact man sent to meet Tedesco. The man he identified as the leader, and many of his subordinates, appeared to have Asian features. Grant realized he wasn’t dealing with simple kidnappers. The more he watched, the more he realized this was a sophisticated clandestine operation on an immense scale. These guys were pros.

              The most heartening discovery was that of Morgan’s family. They all appeared to be none the worse for wear. They were in the living room on the lower floor of the main house, visible through the expansive floor to ceiling windows. The windows would afford those inside three hundred and sixty degrees views of the majestic hills and the ocean surrounding the house. Morgan’s wife, daughter, son-in-law, grandson, and granddaughter were all gathered around a table eating a meal. Grant zoomed in on the little boy, then the girl. Though her eyes were dry her angelic face was puffy from recently shed tears. She should have been at home, coloring, playing with dolls, melting her brain on Disney Channel re-runs. Safe. No child should have their innocence and sense of security stolen this way. Her fork froze mid bite and she crumpled into tears, sobs shaking her whole body. Grant swallowed a lump in his throat as the girl’s mother grabbed her and began to try to comfort her. Grant assumed the lady must be Robin, Dr. Morgan’s daughter. She patted the girl’s back, staring daggers at the guard who pointed a gun toward her and her child. Grant wanted to rip into these cold-hearted bastards. Blast them all to hell. Right now. He bit back his anger. One look at the kids and this mission had become personal.
Hang on sweetheart. We’re coming for you.

              After finishing the meal, two guards escorted the family to a guest house about fifty yards from the main house and locked them inside.

              Grant continued to study the deployment of the sentries. The level of professionalism was astounding and it scared him. He didn’t know what he expected but it wasn’t this. He also realized these guys wouldn’t just want the formula for the virus; they would want its creator as well. To pull this off Grant would have to be on top of his game. So would they all.

              He retrieved the camera from the backpack and began snapping shots of the compound. Satisfied he had enough photos from this angle, he pushed back with his elbows, and slid out of sight of the sentries. He pulled out his ghillie suit and examined the improvements he had made using local flora.

              After Grant survived the rigorous selection process to become a member of the elite hostage rescue team, he had been pumped. Ready to crash through doors, armed to the teeth, kick some ass while bagging bad guys and saving lives. When he was tagged for sniper training he had been pissed. He wanted to be on the front line, leading the charge. But despite his misgivings he excelled at the job, both in training and missions. At sniper training school at Fort Benning he trained with army snipers. And after a less than auspicious start, he began to apply himself, eventually even gaining the respect of the Special Forces instructors and operators.

              He donned the ghillie and lay flat on the ground. He needed to get close to gather some more intel, and he would need all his skills to succeed. Rescuing Dr. Morgan’s family would be difficult. Surprise would be the
only
thing in their favor.