Ghost Sniper

35

Senator Lazaro Serrano shook hands with Clemson Fields outside his office in the Mexican senate building. “Señor Fields,” he said happily in English, “how nice to see you again.”

“The pleasure is mine,” Fields said. “I’m sorry to arrive on short notice.”

“Not to worry,” Serrano said, opening the door to his office. “Please step in and make yourself comfortable. Did my people arrive on time for you at the airport?”

“They were very punctual,” Fields said, passing into the office. “Thank you.”

Serrano moved around behind his large, old wooden desk and took a seat. “As you might imagine, things are very, very crazy here in the capital because of the tragic earthquake. I wasn’t sure if my people could meet your plane on time.”

“I understand.” Fields settled into his chair, resting his briefcase on the floor.

Serrano placed his hands flat on the desk. “So what can I do for you, Señor Fields?”

“We have a problem,” Fields said, coming straight to the point. “Director Pope thought I should talk to you about it in person.”

Serrano appeared stoic. “I am listening.”

“Agent Vaught is still alive.”

A flicker of uncertainty. “How is that possible? His body was sent back to the United States two days ago.”

“The PFM falsified the crime scene,” Fields explained. “One of Ruvalcaba’s men is a deep-cover agent. He can place you with Rhett Hancock. The PFM is using both Agent Vaught and the deep-cover agent to build a case against you for corruption — possibly even as an accessory to murder.”

Serrano was no longer feigning patience. “Why am I only now being told?”

“Well, I couldn’t exactly call you on the phone,” Fields pointed out, “and the situation has been developing rather quickly.”

“You could have come yesterday — even the day before — the very hour you knew that Vaught was still alive!”

Fields remained pacific in the face of Serrano’s displeasure. “There was no initial hurry. Vaught was under our control, and it was our intention at CIA to fetter the PFM investigation — thereby protecting you.”

“And now?”

“Now Vaught has disappeared, and we need to find him.”

Serrano’s temper flared. “You should have killed him when he was under your control! Now he’s a danger to us all!”

Fields held up a finger. “First, we were not in a position to safely remove him. Second, we didn’t have the proper assets in place to do that kind of work. Third, we had to play by the rules.

“And, finally, Agent Vaught poses no danger to the CIA — only to you.”

Serrano chortled, rocking back in his chair and reaching for a Cuban cigar. He took his time about clipping the end and lighting it with a stick match, shaking out the match and dropping it into a crystal ashtray. “Hancock is your man, not mine — a gringo sniper trained by the American army. The CIA sent him down here to help remove Alice Downly, and Agent Vaught has seen his face. I am no detective, Mr. Fields, but to me it seems that both of these men pose a threat — not only to the CIA but also to your Director Pope.”

The naivete of people in high government never ceased to amaze Fields. “I’m no detective either, Senator, but what I can tell you is this: there is no connection between Hancock and the CIA — none — other than your word, which won’t carry a great deal of weight with the US State Department. Pope is considered a national hero in my country, as you well know. Hancock was guided to Hector Ruvalcaba through an intermediary, after putting himself on the market as a mercenary for hire. He has no clue that he’s working for the CIA because he’s not working for the CIA. He’s working for Hector Ruvalcaba, and Agent Vaught can connect you to Hector Ruvalcaba.

“Therefore,” he concluded, pointing his index finger at Serrano, “both Agent Vaught and Rhett Hancock are direct threats to you.”

Had Serrano been in a position to do so in that moment, he would’ve ordered Fields shot. “You’ve left me holding the bag, you son of a bitch.”

“Not at all, Senator.” Now that Fields had broken Serrano’s spirit, he would build him back up. “It is still very much our intention to help make you president. That’s what we very much want to see happen, and that is why I am here. Mistakes have been made, yes, on both sides. After all, Vaught was in your personal custody following Downly’s assassination, was he not? You were in a much better position to deal with the problem than we were, but you failed to do so. However, this isn’t about pointing fingers or even about sharing the blame. It’s about working together to solve a problem. That’s my job, Senator: to help you solve the problem. Now, with that understanding, all we have to do is find Agent Vaught, tell Rhett Hancock where he is, and let nature take its course.”

Serrano saw immediately that Hancock would want Vaught dead to protect his identity. He watched with veiled trepidation as Fields opened his briefcase, removing a large envelope and placing it on Serrano’s desk.

Fields set the briefcase back on the floor. “In that envelope are the names and photos of eleven deep-cover PFM agents, one of whom is Agent Luis Mendoza. Mendoza is the agent who can place you in the same room with Rhett Hancock on the day of Alice Downly’s assassination.”

Serrano reached forward to lift the envelope, his fingers trembling. He would have gladly paid a million dollars for the names of so many agents, but here Fields was giving it to him for free. “What do you want for this?”

Fields smiled. “Nothing more than your help in controlling the narcotics trade once you become president of this great country.”

Serrano held the envelope in his lap, suddenly feeling like a child on Christmas morning. “I thank you for coming to see me, Mr. Fields, and I apologize for my loss of composure.”