Lethal Agent (Mitch Rapp #18)(88)

“I . . . I don’t know.”

Rapp retrieved a set of vise-grips off the floor and closed the jaws around the middle joint of Esparza’s right index finger. He nearly choked himself screaming as the bone was crushed flat.

“Wrong answer, Carlos.”

The cartel leader’s face turned pale and his eyes started to roll back in his head as he teetered at the edge of unconsciousness. He’d undoubtedly done similar things to countless men, women, and probably a few children over the years. But he wasn’t doing so well being on the receiving end. Rapp walked out of the garage and found a flowerpot that was partially full of rainwater. Emptying it onto Esparza’s head brought him back around.

“Do you expect me to believe that your guards just let them drive out of here without your approval?”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Esparza said, his voice barely a whisper. “I gave them a safe point of entry to Mexico and the contact information for a few coyotes who could help them cross the border. They said they wanted to handle the arrangements themselves and why wouldn’t I let them? I didn’t want them here. There was no reason for me to take on the risk of smuggling Arabs over the border. And I didn’t want them in the U.S. watching my operation.”

“Names, Carlos. What coyotes did you put them in touch with?”

“I . . . I don’t know for sure,” he replied, having a hard time getting in enough breath to speak. “Vicente handled those kinds of details.”

Rapp pulled out his gun and pressed it to the man’s head. “Then I don’t need you anymore.”

“Wait!” he shouted. “I have names. I have all of them! I just can’t tell you for sure which ones Vicente passed on. Please, Mitch. Please. Why would I lie? They used me. I want them dead as much as you.”

Rapp holstered his weapon and went back to the Humvee to close the hood.

“Irene. What kind of help can you get me from the Mexican government?”

“I’m sorry, Mitch, but the answer is none. Even if our relationship with them was good at this point, the Mexican government is flooded with drug money. If we try to involve them, those coyotes are going to hear about it. And even if that wasn’t the case, their local police don’t have biohazard protocols in place. If they were to intercept Halabi’s people, how many of their personnel would be exposed? Would we be able to stop them from putting Halabi’s men in a crowded jail? What if they kill them in a public area and there’s a significant amount of blood? What if they botch the operation and scatter them? The spread of the disease isn’t stopped by borders. If this gets out it’ll—”

“What about Gary Statham and his guys?” Rapp interjected.

“Are you suggesting we send a U.S. military force across the Mexican border?”

“From where I’m standing, it doesn’t seem like a bad option.”

“Even in the most cooperative political climate imaginable that would take weeks of negotiations. And that’s not the environment we’re working in. Mitch, it’s a little after five in the morning here and the anthrax story is about to break hard. The White House is already all hands on deck trying to figure out how to mitigate the damage. In fact, I’m in a car on my way there now.”

“Can I assume that Christine Barnett’s people are going to be doing the opposite?”

“I think that’s a safe assumption. When the morning news shows get into full swing, all hell is going to break loose inside the Beltway.”

Rapp grabbed Esparza by the collar and dragged him toward the vehicle. The cartel leader started to cry out in pain, but Rapp clamped a hand over his mouth.

“What about Scott? Can you get him and his people over the border?”

“They’re in Texas. Fully equipped and waiting for your orders.”

“Brief them and tell them we’re a go,” he said, stuffing Esparza into the backseat. “And use whatever magic you’ve got left to get Gary’s team in a position to move fast.”

“I’ll do what I can, Mitch.”

He grabbed the phone off the Humvee’s bumper and a roll of duct tape off the floor.

“I’m putting Esparza on.”

Rapp leaned through the open rear door, pressing the phone to the cartel leader’s ear and securing it there with a few winds of tape.

“There’ll be a survey at the end of this call, Carlos. I suggest you make sure you have a very satisfied customer on the other end.”

Esparza nodded weakly, looking increasingly dazed. Part of it was blood loss, but the other part was probably the shock from how fast his life had turned to shit. Only a few hours ago, he’d been lying on satin sheets with one of his underage whores, dreaming of the billions he was going to make in the heroin business. Now he was slowly bleeding out with a phone taped to his head.

“Mr. Esparza?” Rapp heard Kennedy say as he slammed the door and walked around to the driver’s side. Her voice was firm, but soothing. Just the tone necessary to give the man the illusion of hope.

“I’m sure this has been a very difficult night for you, but I have some questions that need to be answered.”





CHAPTER 46


ARLINGTON

VIRGINIA

USA

“THAT’S a lie!” Senator Christine Barnett shouted, wielding the television remote in her hand as though it were a weapon.