The Last Bazaar

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

Hayden Jaye stayed low and well away from the barge’s round windows as she spoke on the sat-phone. The interior was in semi-darkness, illuminated only by one dim lantern, but that was good. Several times these last few days she had seen guards venturing close, as if trying to see inside. Smyth had positioned himself on deck, the eternal guardian and soldier, and Lauren had busied herself by helping out with the “guests” and their food. The news coming back from the bazaar was hardly reassuring; the revelations surrounding Secretary Robert Price and the CIA particularly damning. Trouble was, Hayden wasn’t entirely sure what their next move should be.

I don’t like this one little bit.

Part of the reason a leader became a leader was that they acted well under pressure, made the right decisions and brought their people home. During this mission Hayden had acted more than a little impetuously, reacting immediately upon Beauregard’s tip and dragging the entire team into the jungle. She wondered what Price would have said about it if she’d had chance to consult him.

None of this matters. Yes, she was crowding her brain with unnecessary evils. What mattered was Price, the CIA, Tyler Webb and Ramses.

And now Kenzie.

Dahl spoke rapidly on the sat-phone, explaining the latest developments. Hayden listened with amazement, surprised that Alicia had come across her latest nemesis in the midst of the Amazon, then accepting as she heard what the ex-Mossad did for a living. Dahl’s description of her was somewhat colorful — at first tempered with dislike and wariness but later also with a little pity and maybe even some respect. He didn’t explain why, but she sensed a kinship somewhere.

Hayden checked her watch. Coming up for 8:00 a.m. now on the last day of the last bazaar. No matter what happened, this was the end. The variables though — they were endless.

“We know where Ramses’ tent is,” Dahl was saying. “But not Webb’s or Price’s. We’re still outgunned and outmanned, though several players have already left. The worst of the bunch though — they’re still here, cavorting until the very end.”

“Distraction?” Hayden sipped from a bottle of water.

“Hard to pull off. The guards are well laid out and unlikely to bunch.”

“Shock and awe?”

“If we had reinforcements.”

Hayden wondered about that. Time was fast running out, and they were eight against hundreds. Their direct boss couldn’t exactly help them. She saw only one course of action.

“Dahl,” she said. “Give me an hour. I have to call someone.”

The connection was verified, passed through countless channels and then verified again. One more time, one more connection, and she addressed the most powerful man in the world.

“Sir?” she said.

President Coburn’s voice held tones of stress but came across as warm as summer DC sunshine. “Hayden Jaye. What can I do for you?”

Hayden took a huge breath and then gave him the bare facts, straight up. This was no time for embellishments, and Coburn listened without interrupting. When she had finished he stayed silent for about a minute.

“Sir?”

“Yes, Jaye, I’m here. Just picking myself up off the floor. And there’s no chance Price might be there undercover, like yourselves? No chance he’s playing this Ramses character?”

“From what my team saw and heard,” she said. “No chance at all.”

Coburn fell silent again. Hayden could imagine the thoughts running through his head — of black bag and need-to-know, of rendition and dark sites, of intelligence gathering and the lives of ordinary Americans.

“The logistics are… thorny,” Coburn said. “Brazil’s Department of State are working well with us at the moment but assets in the region are too minimal to make a difference. Unless…” he paused, and Hayden could almost see him smile. “Unless there’s something I don’t know, of course. Which is perfectly possible. An additional problem is the region you’re in — it is teeming with criminals, desperadoes, gangsters, you name it.”

“It’s okay, sir.” Hayden heard the regret in his voice quite clearly. “We can still do this. I only want… clarification… on Price.”

“Ah, well, that’s not such a gray area. Resolve that situation, Jaye. In any way necessary.”

The comment surprised her a little. She had fully expected Coburn to insist that Robert Price be allowed to return to the States to stand trial, or face interrogation, but instead he’d given her carte blanche. As a soldier in the field, she couldn’t ask for more.

“Understood, sir, and thank you.”

“What’s the time scale on this?”

“Eighteen hours, maximum,” she said. “We’re counting down, sir.”

“I want to know the moment you settle this,” Coburn said. “Good luck to you and your team, Jaye. And please, be careful.”

“We always are, sir,” Hayden said, her head filled with images of Torsten Dahl grinning like crazy and Matt Drake leaping after him into battle. “Our team is as sane as they come.”

Coburn hesitated. “All right, then.”

The call died. Hayden put her face to the window and viewed what she could of the bazaar and the lightening skies. The conversation had turned out better than she had hoped in one way, but worse in another. Price was expendable, but they were on their own.

Again.

She called Dahl back and told him the news. “I did tell the President that we would be careful,” she said. “And that we’re all well-balanced, rational human beings able to make sound decisions in the heat of battle.”

“Fuck, yeah,” Dahl growled.

Hayden closed her eyes. “Have at it then.”