Ghost Sniper

42

Mariana Mederos had rented a small apartment outside of Puerto Vallarta in order to remain close to Antonio Castañeda, pending completion of Crosswhite’s mission in Toluca. After Serrano and the gringo sniper were dead, she would have to make some decisions regarding her future with the CIA. For now, though, she had a purpose, and that was to arrange for any logistical support that Crosswhite might need from Castañeda’s people in the South. Under normal circumstances, she would have been afraid to remain in the same city as Castañeda, alone and unprotected, but she was beginning to see that, despite his ruthless nature, the former GAFE operator did adhere to a certain moral code. There was no way of divining the limits of that code, but it did provide a small degree of predictability.

She was walking north along the beach with her feet in the surf when her cellular began to ring in her bag. She did not recognize the number, but it was from the DC area code: 202.

“Hello?” she said, convinced that it would be Pope.

“I’m surprised you answered,” said Clemson Fields.

His voice had a nerve-grating nasal overtone that Mariana recognized at once. “What do you want?”

“I see you’re down in Vallarta,” he said. “Do you have time to meet me in Tijuana?”

Mariana’s desire to meet Fields in Tijuana — or anywhere else — ranked right up there with her desire to be eaten by a shark. “For what?”

“By now, I’m sure you’ve heard that Alice Downly was killed by an ex-Ranger sniper working for the Ruvalcabas. I’ve tracked his spotter, Billy Jessup, to Tijuana, and I need you to get close to him so you can learn the sniper’s location.”

“And how do you suggest I do that?”

“That will be up to you,” Fields said, “but Jessup has a fondness for Mexican women.”

“In other words, you expect me to sleep with him.”

“I expect you to do whatever you can to help end this crisis. I won’t waste time sparring with you, Mariana. You know the gringo sniper is hunting Agent Vaught and is therefore hunting Crosswhite as well. Even if you no longer care about the future of the CIA, I believe you do care about Dan Crosswhite. Or am I wrong?”

She realized that both Fields and Pope were under the impression that she and Crosswhite had slept together, and this annoyed her, but they were right to assume she cared about him. This annoyed her as well. They had discovered a weakness, and Fields was exploiting it.

Very well. If men were going to exploit her weaknesses, she would fly to Tijuana to exploit one of theirs, but sleeping with anyone was out of the question; she’d sooner resort to using a pair of scissors to get the information she wanted. “The spotter’s name is Jessup?”

“Correct,” Fields said. “I’ll fill you in on the gory details when you arrive. You can call me at this number with your itinerary. How soon should I expect you?”

“Maybe tomorrow afternoon. But all future meetings between you and me will be in a public place.”

He chuckled. “You’ve nothing to fear from me, Mariana. I’m not an assassin.”

“I’d never accuse you of possessing the courage, Clemson. I just don’t trust you as far as I can pick you up and throw you.”

There was a tense moment of silence at Fields’s end before he said, “I’ll wait to hear from you.”

With the call ended, she dug the satellite phone from her bag and called Crosswhite to tell him about the conversation.

“What do you think?” he asked her.

“It sounds legit,” she said, “but if Pope has been working with Serrano, how can they not already know how to find the sniper?”

“Consider this possibility: Suppose the sniper actually works for Pope. Suppose he’s part of a cell within the ATRU? If that’s the case, Fields might be in the dark. I don’t know how much he knows.”

“But if the sniper was part of the ATRU, Midori would know.”

“Not necessarily,” Crosswhite replied. “Midori said Pope has become more secretive lately — maybe even paranoid — and if Pope had Alice Downly assassinated, he’s got every reason to keep her in the dark.”

The idea chilled Mariana to the bone. Could Pope have gone that far? “But why would he want Downly dead?”

“Who the fuck knows?” Crosswhite said with disdain. “I’ve never understood how he thinks. Hell, he stabbed a dude in the face with an ice pick last year during the hunt for the loose nuke. He didn’t even give Gil a proper chance to interrogate the guy — just buried an ice pick in his face and started asking questions.”

Hearing this told Mariana that Pope was capable of anything. “Speaking of Gil, can you reach him by sat phone?”

“No. As long as he’s in China, he’s completely blacked out, and you can bet that’s exactly why he picked China, too. Whatever the fuck he’s up to, he doesn’t want Pope poking his nose in it.”

“What if he doesn’t make it back? Can you and Vaught handle the sniper without him?”

Crosswhite snorted. “Will we have a choice?”

That made up her mind. “I’ll leave for Tijuana in the morning.”

“Listen, I don’t want you taking any unnecessary risks for me.”

“Would you say that to me if I was a man?”

“You being a woman doesn’t have shit to do with it. The difference is that I care about you, and I don’t trust Fields any farther than I can throw his skinny ass.”

She laughed without sharing why. “This is the business we chose, remember?”

“That it is,” he admitted, knowing she had to go to Tijuana — regardless of the danger.