Ariel drew his Walther PPK and walked over to the prisoner. The man's eyes followed him until Ariel went behind him and knelt down with a knee in the man's back. "I'm afraid your friends have caused us much trouble. Plans have changed and you are excess baggage I can no longer afford to carry around."
Ariel placed the muzzle of the PPK in the back of the American's head. The man was jerking with all his might, trying to throw Ariel off, but he was too securely bound for that. Ariel released the safety. As his finger started to tighten on the trigger a thought occurred to him.
Ariel stood up and went into the next room. He picked up the phone and asked for the operator.
Strom was still half asleep as he walked over to the phone the duty officer indicated. He didn't appreciate being woken out of a sound sleep to take a phone call from an anonymous person. The duty officer said that the man wanted to talk to someone who knew something about Jameson.
Strom grabbed the phone. "What do you want?"
The voice on the other end had a strange accent. "Are you a person who is able to make decisions?"
Strom rolled his eyes. "Who the hell is this?"
"Are you aware of what really happened this past Sunday night at Barranquilla when your commando team was ambushed trying to destroy a cocaine-processing factory?"
Strom was quickly waking up. "Who is this? What do you want?" He put a hand over the phone and hissed to the duty officer. "Can you trace this?" The man nodded and ran from the room.
"Who I am doesn't matter. What does matter is that I have the fifth man from that team in the house here with me and he's still alive. I want to give him to you in exchange for a little something."
"How do I know you really have him?"
"You don't. But you have nothing to lose. If you don't give me what I want, I will simply blow his brains out and go on my merry way, and neither of us will be very happy. But if you take a chance and come here, we can both be happy."
Strom gripped the phone harder. What the hell was the duty officer doing? "What do you want?"
"An American passport. I know you have spares there in the embassy for travelers who have lost theirs. I want to go home and I can't get there with my present passport. So you will give me one made out in a new name and appropriately stamped. You have forty-five minutes to be here."
Strom looked at his watch. Getting Powers back would be a nice feather in his hat, especially after all the screw-ups on this operation over the past week. "What name on the passport?"
"I'm glad you're a reasonable man. The name doesn't matter."
"Where do I meet you?"
"Go down Bolivar Boulevard until you pass the Memorial Park on your right. Turn right on the first street after the park. Go two blocks and turn left. Third house on the right. Come alone. Try anything stupid and the American dies. You can make it in forty-five minutes if you hurry."
The phone went dead. Strom took a second to memorize the directions. The duty officer came running in, followed by another man with a case under his arm. "What line do you want traced?"
Strom sighed. "You bloody fools. You're too damn late." He turned to the duty officer. "Where do you keep the blank passports and official seal?"
Riley looked through the windshield down the darkened street. "She didn't know which one exactly?"
Westland shook her head. "She said it was either the second or third in."
Riley checked the action on his MP5 one more time. "Shit. I don't want to bust into the wrong house. It'll cause a ruckus and warn the people in the right one."
Westland pulled out her Beretta. "How about we each take one?"
Riley considered that. He didn't like it. The sicarios were sure to have a lot of firepower in whichever house they were holding Powers, especially if they were planning on assassinating the president. Going in alone would be almost suicidal.
He looked at the two houses in question one more time. Both were similar one-story structures surrounded by a low wall with a small gate facing out into the street. "Sure is damn quiet here. You'd think they'd have more cars or something." There were a few cars parked in the street. One was in front of the third house in. He didn't recognize the car from his surveillance at the villa. Still, this Israeli had to have wheels. Neither house had a garage.
"The third one in. We'll both…"
He paused as headlights turned the corner behind them. He pressed Westland down into the seat as a car drove past slowly. Riley peeked over the dash. The newcomer parked behind the car Riley had just been watching. "What the hell is going on? That's an American embassy car from the license plate."
Westland popped up next to him and they watched a man get out. "That's Strom," she whispered.
Riley had no idea what was going on, but he knew that it could not be a coincidence. The third house had to be the one. He watched as Strom pushed open the front door of the house and disappeared inside.
"Let's go."
Ariel turned on a light in the living room and examined the passport carefully. "Very good."
Strom spoke from his position across the room. "Where's Powers?"
Ariel looked at the American. "Did you record this passport into the log at the embassy?"
Strom nodded. "If I didn't it would be reported as stolen."
"Good." Ariel looked at the passport one more time, then put it into his pocket. Getting a photo would be easy. This passport would at least get him back into Israel. After that he could assume a new identity. He had enough money squirreled away in various world banks to live comfortably for the rest of his life. If he had killed the American that would have just added another group of people who would have been after him. This had worked much better for everyone.
"Your man is in the kitchen. He's tied up on the floor. He's been quite a pain in the ass." Ariel headed for the door. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you."
Riley had heard enough. He kicked the door open and drew down on the Israeli. Westland slid in behind him and to his right. The Israeli froze with his pistol halfway up.
Riley spoke. "Don't move an inch."
Strom started to intercede, but Westland shoved him back out of the field of fire. The CIA man put out his hand. "Don't do anything stupid. Powers is alive in the kitchen. Let this man go and Powers is ours."
Riley nodded at Westland. "Check the kitchen." He kept the muzzle on Ariel. "You stay there until we find out if he really is alive."
The tableau stayed frozen for thirty seconds. Then out of the corner of his eye Riley spotted a familiar figure in the doorway to the kitchen. "You all right, compadre?"
"Yeah. Little sore and hungry."
"Who's this I've got under my gun?" Riley was pretty sure it was Ariel, as described by the girl, but he wanted to confirm.
Powers sidled across the room followed by Westland, making sure to keep out of Riley's line of fire. "That's an ex-Israeli scumbag named Ariel. He's the Ring Man's main security man. He was about to kill me when he came up with the brilliant idea of trading me for the passport."
Riley squeezed the trigger. The chugging of the silenced weapon was the only sound in the room as Riley's rounds slammed Ariel into the wall and held him there momentarily. The Israeli slowly slid down the wall, leaving a smear of blood behind him.
Riley looked up at Strom, who was staring at Ariel with a mixture of shock and outrage. Riley reloaded his MP5 and turned for the door. He stopped in front of Strom. "No more deals."