The Espionage Effect(95)
“Why not call ahead to have the customs officials detain them?” I kept my high-tech sunglasses and weapon trained on the group as they cleared the checkpoint bottleneck.
“Many reasons. We needed to know Escobar’s plans. He didn’t fill me or any of the guards in prior to our boarding. Our orders were to make sure the prisoners stayed below decks, nothing more.”
“Then what?”
“The moment we boarded, Escobar briefed us. After the ship docked, half of us were to scatter through the shipyard and take up sniper points, guarantee the kids made it through.”
Blinking in shock at the suggestion that we weren’t the only ones with a high vantage point in and among these buildings, I scanned the visible rooftops around us. But nothing appeared out of the ordinary. “Why didn’t you alert Regina? Couldn’t she have warned customs?”
“EtherSphere won’t interfere in local law enforcement. And we don’t expose ourselves. Our organization has remained cloaked from discovery for a reason.”
“Are you sure you’re not careful to the point of ineffectiveness?”
“We are silent. Until it’s time not to be.” He paused, then shot me a sidelong glance. “Then we speak in ways others can’t detect, but will still readily understand.”
“Still, this all seems so…elaborate. Why not smuggle in the actual serum versus people? Infect them within US borders? Why not cars or trucks, a means of transportation with less eyes watching?”
“Elaborate to Escobar is the beauty of it. He basks in the elegance of a plan. And he especially enjoys taking advantage of the ego of any democratic government who believes they’re untouchable. Vacationing families? No more perfect ruse to slip in right under their impenetrable noses.”
I chewed on that for a moment, staring at the group that began to congregate around four white panel-vans. Instinct tightened my muscles. “They’re getting ready to disperse. It’s now or never.”
He shook his head. “I haven’t seen Escobar.”
Alec was right; Escobar hadn’t yet emerged. I identified a few soldiers disguised as plainclothes crewmembers, but had yet to sight Escobar. Although Miguel came into view from the far right, dressed in full fatigues.
An analytical web played out in my mind: soldiers previously scattering to vantage points, bold arrogance in believing they wouldn’t be stopped by customs, his son stepping into view, seemingly from nowhere.
“Alec, there’s more to this. It can’t be all about smuggling them in. Escobar kidnapped me. Then it was so easy to escape. Too easy. Even if that was coincidence, he would’ve discovered me missing hours ago. Us missing. He would’ve employed counter measures.”
Cool steel slid over my cheek. “I did.”
Escobar.
I didn’t flinch, although it took a deep breath and incredible focus not to. Alec didn’t respond either.
“Letting you go was the first.” The hard muzzle of a gun slid along my jawline toward my ear until it pressed against the back of my head. “Seeing how you’d respond? The second.”
My mind reeled. Had Alec been in on this? Was he a double agent: working for EtherSphere to spy on Escobar only to spy on me while he worked for Escobar? And where did that put Alec on my map?
Didn’t matter. Immediate logic reigned, blocking out any further questions, overruling all emotion.
Fleeting seconds remained. One, maybe two. Coupled with the element of surprise and focused determination, they were the only advantage I’d have before all was lost.
Never taking my attention from the group gathering below, the prisoners already being loaded into the unmarked panel-vans, I lowered my head, but not my gaze.
“Put the weapon down, nice and easy,” Escobar commanded with a pointed jab of the muzzle against my skull. “Alec, it seems you were playing for the other side all along. Well, I may have just lost an arms dealer, but I’ll be damned if I lose the asset EtherSphere had worked so hard to attract. In the end, it hardly matters. Your bitch is mine now.”
Good. He’s not looking to put a bullet in me…just yet.
I couldn’t see Alec in my peripheral as Escobar dug his gun muzzle against the base of my skull. Years of anger suddenly sharpened into this one moment, the weighted space between one heartbeat and the next.
A subtle shift was all it took, enough to feign compliance. Then a dance began, multiple moves all choreographed into a split-second chain reaction.
One finger on the trigger, I locked on to the electronic bull’s eye in the high-tech sunglasses, then I took aim and squeezed, firing a single round at the most powerful target before releasing the sniper rifle.
Without breaking my movement, I continued to lean left, feeling Escobar’s gun slide away from my scalp as I reached up over my right shoulder. Cast off-balance, his weight fell forward. He shot a bracing leg out, but I grabbed the barrel of the automatic assault rifle that he gripped with both hands. Flexing my thighs, harnessing their crouched power, I lurched forward, yanking the weapon over my shoulder and out over the rooftop’s escarpment. And in basic instinct’s truest form, Escobar didn’t release his grip on the weapon until his brain fired signals of impending danger—too late to save him from it.
With my heightened awareness, I also perceived my target’s reaction: Miguel clutched his chest and fell to his knees while a dark spot spread across his camouflage shirt.