Age of Blood

48

Three hours later Walker was wearing flip-flops and shorts. What had started out as a joke had become reality, except that he now had a knockoff Hard Rock Mexico City shirt and pink sunglasses, and was sitting in the lobby with Jen, pretending to study a tourist map, but really watching the frenetic population of the hotel lobby. American, Canadian, and French families wore garish clothes and dragged along tired children and small, ratlike dogs. Men in stylish suits commanded small groups of thugs in cheap suits who stood around glaring at each other. A small army of staff wearing charcoal-gray clothes and red-and-white name tags moved to the gravitational pull of everyone’s needs, most happy when they were crossing the lobby, their eyes on problems yet to be reported.

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern had discovered something very interesting when they’d slipped into the police database looking for a possible missing vehicle. Evidently, the hotel they were staying at had a special notification that put it off limits to the police. This raised a red flag the size of the Goodyear blimp and necessitated Laws making several calls, which resulted in a disturbing, if not interesting, revelation. Of all the hotels in Mexico, more than five thousand, they’d chosen the single one that seemed to be having a government-sanctioned reunion of the Los Zetas cartel. As it turned out, it wasn’t a reunion. Several of Laws’s criminal contacts had reported that all of Los Zetas’ middle management along the Mexican-U.S. border had headed south to Mexico City. No one seemed to know why.

And they also discovered a vehicle that they believed was YaYa’s getaway car. A 2003 Corolla had been stolen from passenger drop-off within minutes of the senator’s plane landing. The car was then traced through traffic cameras to a location a mere hundred meters from the hotel.

The convergence of events was too coincidental. It was no secret that Holmes disbelieved in such coincidences. So they’d gone from searching for the senator to figuring out the mystery of the presence of Los Zetas, with the presumed promise that once they solved one, they’d solve the other. That created the unprecedented situation now, as Jen and Jack played little missus and mister American tourist right in the middle of what was supposed to be a personnel recovery mission of the most desperate kind.

All of which necessitated getting back on the grid.

Laws was upstairs continuing to work on a series of throwaway phones, using criminal contacts he’d established over the years. Not only was he trying to ascertain the exact names of the Zetas in the hotel, but he was also establishing ratlines, calling assets they had on file to use in the event they needed a quick and secret way to leave the city. As it was, they were in such a hive of activity that leaving might prove impossible.

Holmes and Billings were also working the phones, using voice-over-Internet protocol (VOIP). Paired with a roaming shadow IP, it allowed them to each use a computer system without fear of being discovered. Holmes was busy coordinating support from Navarre and his GAFE forces. He also unofficially contacted several friends at Naval Special Warfare Command in both PACOM and Coronado. Some of the things he desired they weren’t willing to provide. But others, especially those which could be hand-carried, were more than a possibility.

While Holmes was working to get help for the team, Billings tried one last time to get their own government assets on board. She and Holmes had discussed it and they’d decided to try and coordinate official assistance, while he was coordinating unofficial assistance. So she’d contacted the embassy and after a ten-minute argument with the chief of station, the head of the FBI legate team, and the Secret Service agent in charge who’d come down from the States, she switched to Plan B. Now that it was clear they’d get no official help from their own, she put across the notion that they were traveling south and out of the city and wanted to have assistance waiting for them should Triple Six make it to Veracruz, where they’d had substantial leads. The bureaucrats had, of course, not been willing to comply and were keeping her on the line attempting to track down her location via NSA traces. She could hear the frustration in their voices as they worked to keep her from hanging up. In reality, it didn’t matter how long she stayed on. There was no way they could track her as long as her IP kept roaming, but she didn’t want them to know that. So in the end she cut them off and hung up, hopefully leaving them to believe they had the superior technological upper hand.

“Walker, we’re looking for this man,” Laws said into his ear through the BCCG. “He works Nogales and runs the border operations for the Zetas.”

Walker glanced down at his tablet, which had been ripped by the techs so that it could no longer broadcast its own location with a static IP. They’d also disabled satellite uplink, allowing only for the use of wireless, in this case, thanks to the hotel. A police photo of a middle-aged Mexican man was on the screen. Jen saw it too and snuggled closer, as if they were both looking at a picture that could have been a sunset, a kitten, or a dolphin, and not a bloodthirsty Zeta leader.

Walker stared briefly across the lobby and saw the man talking with several subordinates. “Got this one, too,” he said into the BCCG, as he switched his gaze to Jen, as if they loved each other and wanted to lose themselves in each other’s eyes. That part wasn’t hard at all.

“That makes six Zeta lieutenants. My sources were right on. Whatever’s going on is big.”

“Jen thinks it has something to do with Xray,” he said, using the code they’d defined for Senator Withers. They could explain a lot away if overheard or if someone read their lips, but the title and name of the man they were searching for was so unique, they’d decided they’d refrain from even mentioning him from here on.

“We’re open to that possibility.”

“Think about it. We’re in one of the three hotels overlooking the plaza, under which are the archeological digs of Tenochtitlán. Xray could be beneath us even now.” He winked at Jen as a couple of tough guys stalked by. “Any plans on getting us down there?”

“R and G are working it. They’ve found several ways, but they think they have something even better.”

“Oh, joy,” Walker said feeling anything but. “God bless the good-idea fairy.”

“I know.” Laws laughed hollowly. “What would we do without the feckless bitch.”

Walker noted that several of the cartel men had begun staring at them with a little more than minor concern. He leaned over and kissed Jen on the neck and as he did, said, “We might have just been made. Moving back upstairs.”

“Roger. Go to three first, then we’ll bring you up.”

Walker and Jen got to their feet and headed toward the elevators. A pair of Zetas detached themselves from the Nogales lieutenant’s group and followed. Walker and Jen concentrated on being eager lovers. As it turned out, it wasn’t so difficult. They were joined on their elevator by the two Zetas and another young couple, even more eager to demonstrate their love by the way their hands moved over each other’s bodies.

Walker and Jen got off on three. So did one of the Zetas, tall with large hands and wide shoulders. They moved toward Room 333 with the Zeta several steps behind.

Their room was on the left. Jen fumbled with the keycard on the door, while Walker pretended to be an overamorous suitor, urging her to hurry. He stood behind her, which necessitated the Zeta either stopping, or pushing his way past. As he pushed past, Walker moved into action. He spun to his left to get behind the man. Simultaneously, he grabbed the man’s left wrist with his own left hand, and brought his right hand up to rake across the man’s face.

The Zeta tried to turn to the right, but Walker’s grip on his left wrist wouldn’t allow it. By then it was too late. The Zeta tried to turn to the left, which allowed Walker to snake his hand inside the Zeta’s arm and around the back of his neck, gripping his left arm, which now pushed against the back of the man’s head. Walker stepped back and sank in the choke nice and deep. An experienced fighter would try and remove Walker’s balance. An inexperienced fighter would try and remove the arms. The Zeta was inexperienced and desperately tried to pry Walker’s arms away, losing precious time, and eventually, his consciousness.

Jen had the door open and they pulled him inside.

Walker checked the hall, then closed the door behind them.

After communicating with the rest of the team, Laws and Holmes joined them moments later.

When the Zeta awoke, he wore only his underwear and was tied and gagged on one of the mattresses. The other mattress was against the door to muffle any sounds that might be made. Jen and Walker stood with Holmes to one side, while Laws sat in a chair, cowboy style, grinning at what he was about to do.

Ten minutes later, Triple Six discovered the missing link. In two hours, the Zetas were to attend a special ceremony in one of the excavated areas of Tenochtitlán not open to the public. The Zetas didn’t know what the reason was for the ceremony, but they were all promised it would provide the cartel with unlimited power, which flowed into what Billings had been told of the cartel’s desire to bring back the old gods. He also mentioned that they were to be rewarded with a special hostage.

Over the next sixty minutes, Triple Six planned the mission and shut down operations. Rosencrantz, Guildenstern, and Billings, along with moral support from Emily Withers, would monitor operations as best they could from the room, while Laws and Holmes would form one group, and Yank, Jen, and Walker would form the other group.

When they were ready, everyone dispersed to their areas. Walker and Jen headed downstairs. “We’re going out into the plaza,” he said through his BCCG. “See if you can watch our back.”

The Los Zetas security would be heightened with their missing man. They’d left him tied in the room. He’d be found eventually, if only by the maids the next morning. But that didn’t help them. Since he was last seen following them, their presence would definitely generate interest. Which is why they made a beeline to the crowds outside.

Guidenstern responded. “We have a Raven in the air. We’ll have your back.”

As they exited the elevator, they turned and strolled toward the revolving door, with Walker well aware he was giving up his back. He counted the steps to the exit, figuring there were twelve to make it to the door, then another four to completely exit. He made it to five when he heard someone shouting behind him. He didn’t turn. He felt Jen’s shoulders tighten and her hand grip his a little more insistently.

He heard someone running.

Then he was at the door. He and Jen stepped inside. As the door began to revolve, moving them outward, he had a look at a man running through the lobby toward the concierge stand. He threw his arms around another man and they both hugged furiously. It looked like they were old friends, rather than out to get them.

Walker kept his smile, but let the tension bleed away as best he could. Then they were outside, the sounds and smells of the street slapping them in the face. The smell of cinnamon churros fought with the smell of too many people, which in turn fought with the overwhelming undercurrent of exhaust, which was at constant odds with the flowers carried by dark-brown-skinned women who could trace their lineage back to Montezuma.

They ducked into the crowd, becoming part of the shifting mass of humanity. There had to be a thousand people mingling, moving through, standing, playing music, conversing, selling, and every other thing one could do in a plaza. But like any such place, it had a pulse and once Walker found it, he made themselves a part of it.

“Raven on station,” came a clipped comment from Guildenstern.

Walker reached into a blue boutique bag that completed their tourist disguise, removed the tablet, then searched through the wireless settings until he found the Raven’s broadcast. After typing in the password, an image began to resolve on the screen. At first it was too confusing to make out; then he let his mind attune to the idea that it was a bird’s-eye view from a MUAV patrolling overhead. He and Jen strolled arm in arm, the tablet close to their chests. It was Jen who found them first, and pointed. Her red hair beside his blond hair was a colorful island in a sea of dark brown and black hair. Walker nodded and watched the pattern of movement until he understood it; then he and Jen turned and they cut across the pattern. It didn’t take long, but he saw three people cutting across the pattern after them, each one at different intervals beside and behind them. It was a classic move, designed to bracket them and to keep the surveillants from losing the surveilled.

They moved around the plaza several times, taking nearly half an hour to do so. To anyone watching, they were a young Caucasian couple, probably American or Canadian or European, in love and walking together while watching something on their tablet that could be anything from a music video to a love story. But Walker was watching those who were tracking them, wondering why they’d been selected, and hoping that they’d leave him and Jen alone.

But the longer they moved around the plaza, the closer the three came. It wasn’t until their fourth circuit that he realized they were being herded, which meant that there was also someone in front of them. He wanted to search the screen, but instead he tore his gaze away from the overhead scene, closed the feed, and switched to a movie.

A man bumped them hard enough to make him stumble.

“Lo siento, amigo,” the man said, close enough for Walker to see the wide pores on his face, and note his bad teeth and breath that smelled of old meat and spices.

Walker allowed the tablet to fall forward, which the man grabbed with ease. As he glanced at it, Walker observed him and noted that he was of the same cloth as many of those he’d been watching inside the hotel—middle-level muscle of the Zetas.

“Hey, that’s ours!” Jen cried.

Bad Breath held up the tablet and smiled. “You walk with tablet? You watch this movie?”

“Give that back,” Walker said, holding out his hand. “That’s mine, eh.”

“Who are you?”

Walker nodded and tried to grab the tablet from the man, but Bad Breath was playing keep-away. “Hey, come on.”

“I’m getting scared,” Jen said, her voice perfectly plaintive.

Walker plastered a mean look on his face. “You don’t give that back to me I’m calling the local mounties, eh.” Walker sadly realized he could never be an actor, but just hoped his ruse was enough so they’d lose interest.

Bad Breath met someone’s eyes over Walker’s shoulder. The movement was minuscule, but Walker had been watching for it. A slight north-south-north tilt of the head. He handed the tablet back.

“My apologies,” he said.

Walker took it and hugged Jen closer to him as the man melted back into the crowd. He thought about turning around, but knew he wouldn’t see anyone there either.

They started walking again. When he was certain no one next to him was paying attention, he dialed up the feed once more. He watched for a time and was pleased to see they were being left alone.

Now for Part Two of the plan.