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Serrano lost his temper at the mention of Castañeda’s name. “Castañeda should have been killed months ago! The CIA should never have arranged that stinking truce with him! What right do you gringos have meddling in Mexican affairs? The fool we have for a president now should have told you to put that truce in your ass, but no! He rolled over like the dog that he is and put his feet up!” He pointed his finger in Crosswhite’s face. “I will tell you this, my American friend: when I am president, there will be no truce with Antonio Castañeda. That dog will be hunted down!”

Crosswhite sat back. “I’m glad to hear you say that. I’m sure Director Pope will be equally pleased.”

“I do not care about Director Pope!” Serrano grated. “I do not work for Americans. Is that clear? Yo trabajo para el pueblo mexicano!” I work for the Mexican people!

Crosswhite wanted to laugh at the outrageous lie but remained passive. “Director Pope is not under the impression that you work for him. It is his understanding the two of you are working together to consolidate the narcotics trade and stabilize the region. He apologizes for Fields’s exceeding his mission parameters, and I assure you he’s acting in good faith to put the situation right.”

Realizing he needed the CIA on his side until after the election, Serrano allowed himself to be mollified. “It can be hard to find reliable men. I see why Director Pope chose you. You are very direct, and you say what you mean. He should have sent you to begin with.”

Mike Ortega stole a glance at Crosswhite, hating him and wishing he could expose him to Serrano then and there, renouncing him for the liar he was. Instead, he went along with the ruse, interjecting, “Fields and Pope share a lot of history. No one is more disappointed by Fields’s lack of discretion than Director Pope, I promise you.”

Serrano nodded, satisfied for the moment. “As for the other two dogs, Vaught and Crosswhite, they’ll be dead shortly. Your man Hancock has moved into Toluca, and the city will soon be back in my hands.”

Crosswhite’s hackles went up. “Back in your hands?”

“Yes. Hancock is coordinating the attack. Ruvalcaba’s men will soon be moving into the city to subvert the police there. Toluca is very important to business traffic coming up from Chiapas in the south, and the Guerrero brothers have been a thorn in my side for too long.”

“You know for a fact that Vaught and Crosswhite are there?”

“Yes. My spy on the Toluca police force has confirmed this. The Americans have been training the officers that remain, but it won’t do them any good. Most of the police force quit when Juan Guerrero was killed last week, and his younger brother is not the same caliber of leader. He has only seventy-five men left, and Toluca is too big a city to hold with seventy-five men.”

“Won’t this new chief call the state police for reinforcements?”

“Oh, I’m sure he will,” Serrano answered. “But the state police commander belongs to me, so I regret to say there won’t be any reinforcements to send to Toluca. The earthquake here in Distrito Federal has caused far too much devastation to risk weakening the city’s peacekeeping forces. A nation’s capital must be protected above all else.” He smiled. “Would you not agree?”

Crosswhite forced himself to return the smile. “Yes, I would.”

“So, how exactly do you suggest we deal with Fields?”

“This is an initial contact,” Crosswhite said, sounding very professional. “To give you and me a chance to establish a rapport. I’ll spend the rest of the day here in the city, making arrangements with my people over at the embassy. Then tomorrow, or the next day at the latest, I’d like to meet back here with you and Captain Espinosa of the Policia Federal to discuss what I’ve put together.”

Serrano was thrown off balance. “How do you know Captain Espinosa?”

“I don’t know him,” Crosswhite said, “but I understand he’s the officer who took initial custody of Agent Vaught after he exceeded his authority in pursuing the sniper. If that’s the case, it seems to me Espinosa might be a man we can count on when the time comes to deal with Fields.”

“You’re rather well informed,” Serrano remarked.

“I have to be, Senator. We’re not dealing with a fool. Agent Fields is a veteran of the Cold War. He knows his craft and is a dangerous man with dangerous assets at his disposal. Your life is important to Director Pope, and I haven’t come here to disappoint him.”

Though Mike Ortega was impressed by how sincerely Crosswhite was laying it on, he didn’t understand why they should risk involving the most corrupt and dangerous cop in the city. He opened his mouth to speak, but Crosswhite kicked him in the leg to shut him up before he could utter a sound.

“I will contact Captain Espinosa,” Serrano said, deciding he liked the idea. “I’m sure he will be interested to meet you.”

“I’m grateful you’ve taken the time to meet with me today. It makes my job much easier.” Crosswhite got to his feet. “I know you’re a busy man, Senator, so we’ll be going.”

They shook hands all around, and when Crosswhite and Ortega were gone, Oscar came out of the house holding a drink in each hand. “How did it go?”

Serrano ignored the drink that was offered him, pointing in the direction Crosswhite had left. “That’s a gringo I can work with!”

62

MEXICO CITY, MEXICO
17:30 HOURS

Vaught stood in the back lot of the police department looking at the blood-soaked interior of an armored police truck. The sniper’s .50 caliber round had pierced the armored driver’s door of the Ford pickup truck and killed both officers in the front seat as they’d sat at a red light. This meant the sniper had been firing on a flat trajectory from street level — a bolder approach than either Vaught or Crosswhite had anticipated.

He turned to Chief Diego and his lieutenant. “How are the men taking it?”

Diego shrugged. “They’re angry — and scared.”

“More angry or more scared?”

“Angry.”

“Did they respond the way they were trained?”

“They tried to,” the lieutenant said. “There were no men riding in the bed of the truck, and the two in the backseat were unable to hear the shot because of the armored windows. By the time another unit responded, the sniper had stopped firing, and there was no way to triangulate his position.”

“Right,” Vaught said. “All four men were riding inside the cab because they wanted to avoid being shot.” He shut the door and put his finger into the hole made by the gringo sniper’s armor-piercing round. “This proves they’re no safer inside than out. In fact, they’re safer in the back because they have a chance to hear the shot, see what’s going on, and return fire. Inside, they’re sitting ducks.”

Diego turned to the lieutenant. “Make sure every man coming on shift sees the hole in the door before going on patrol. Give orders that only the drivers are to be inside. Impress upon them that they have a better chance to dismount and fight if they are riding in back.”

The lieutenant said, “Sí, señor,” and disappeared inside the station to begin roll call.

Vaught made sure they were alone and walked Diego around the far side of the truck. “I’ve heard from Crosswhite up in DF. There’s a traitor among your men. Serrano has someone on the inside, and he’s been feeding the Ruvalcaba’s information about our training exercises.”