Wade backed into one of his observation spots down the street and turned off the engine. In no rush, he wanted Mashburn to get comfortable in his new place without suspecting a tail. Now that he’d found his target and his man had gone to ground, it was time to patiently wait for him to develop a routine. Course after course on surveillance had drummed principals of good stakeouts into Wade’s psyche. He had to understand his target’s behavior pattern before anything else. Mashburn needed to get comfortable in his new space before revealing his routine. Only then would Wade make his move.
His surveillance position allowed a good view of the driveway and the side entrance, which he assumed Mashburn would use to unload his car. At first Wade caught no sight of Mashburn through the binoculars, just several minutes of repeatedly flickering lights. Apparently Mashburn was fastidious about turning off lights after inspecting each room. The pattern of light switching revealed the man’s exact position in the house.
Once the lights were on in just two rooms, Mashburn came out the side door to unload his luggage. A full trunk and back seat revealed that he had more luggage than any one person could possibly need for lounging on the beach. Wade counted as eight pieces of luggage were extracted from the trunk and backseat and assumed by the effort it took to move them that they were inordinately heavy.
Whatever was in this luggage was not bathing suits and sandals. Weapons, explosives, and detonation devices were all on Wade’s mind as he observed the action. This luggage clearly had to do with the mission Mashburn was on, and at least in this instance, that mission had nothing to do with death by poison via syringe.
The driveway light reflecting off Mashburn’s face only enhanced the coldness in his eyes. His expression was not menacing or brutal but a blank pale stare, like that of a scientist who enjoyed injecting rats with diseases and drugs to see their effects. The body struggling with the luggage was not toned or remotely fit for combat; he was clearly built to wear a lab coat rather than body armor.
Wade saw in him the lowest form of life — a human being who no longer cared whom he caused to suffer before they left this earth. Terminating this less-than-human could only benefit society. Wade kept telling himself he was not a judge or jury. This was a target who had information he was determined to extract. Patience, patience; now was not the time to rush to judgment or act prematurely.
The light switching sequence told Wade that heavy luggage had gone into the living room. The light pattern also told Wade that Mashburn had chosen the bedroom nearest the back door for himself.
After several hours of stakeout, Wade squirmed in his seat, restless from observing the same two lighted rooms with no activity. He wanted to check in with Yari for an update. His biggest concern was ignorance regarding the arrival times of Mashburn’s housemates. If he didn’t finish with Mashburn before their arrival, the stakes would get a lot higher. Only Yari had the answer to that question.
Wade had to be at his surveillance post early the next morning to confirm the maid and gardeners’ schedules. The time to grab Mashburn would be soon, before the other operatives arrived. He evaluated his options: he could either remain in position or chance missing Mashburn if he left his post to call Yari. After evaluating the risks of each alternative, he chose to leave, because he needed the intel.
When he left for the library payphone, the only light on in the house was in Mashburn’s bedroom. The rest of the house had been dark for the last three hours.
Sitting at the payphone booth in the hallway, Wade was anxious to hear Yari’s voice. “It’s me. Listen, our man is at the house and I need to know if he’s made any calls.”
“Yes. He tried to make one to a no-answer number in New York. I’m tracking the owner of that number now.”
Wade considered his next comment. “Good. The thought crossed my mind… what if Mashburn doesn’t know any of the other operatives, and he’s not in charge of this mission. Where does that leave us?”
“That one’s got me stumped as well.”
“What about going back and listening to more of the Condor’s calls?”
“I’ve done that. Nothing there. Did you ever think that Condor may not be running the operation either?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t leave us anywhere either. The problem I have is that if I take Mashburn out now, we’ll be left clueless as to the details about this op.”
“It will get really complicated if they’re operating independently.”
“I have to make sure Mashburn gives me the information I need on the Lockhart matter first.”
“How can you be sure he’s telling you the truth?”
“I have my ways.”
“I wouldn’t want to be Mashburn right now.”
“He’s fine right now, but you won’t want to be him in a few days.”
“I’ll stay on the calls. I think you should check in every day, since I don’t have a way of reaching you.”
“I’ll do that.”
Wade returned to the stakeout. For the first time since arriving at 5:30 that evening, Mashburn left the house. Keeping a safe distance between them, Wade tailed him to a food stand near the beach. Much to Wade’s surprise, Mashburn found a walk-up pizza stand. He thought to himself, With all the wonderful seafood and local cooking in the area, why would he eat a pizza? Old habits die hard, I guess. In a beautiful tropical paradise filled with fine local cuisine, and he stands at an outdoor counter eating pizza. How boring and unappealing.
With nothing better to do on the stakeout, Wade nicknamed Mashburn “Possum.” He’d been taught to always nickname his targets as an easy way to remember them by their habits. Perhaps Mashburn is some form of nocturnal creature who only ventures out when the sun goes down. Wade’s sense was that Mashburn might be a good assassin, but he was also weird to the core.
Wade was on stakeout from early evening until Mashburn shut off his bedroom light at 2:00 a.m. Wade wondered if this detailed stakeout of Mashburn was necessary. He wondered if he was overthinking his target. As a creature of habit, Mashburn would be an easy target to hit even if he was constantly on the move. His sloth-like movements didn’t exhibit any of the evasive tendencies a well-trained undercover field operative would use.
Unless Mashburn had been spending time booby-trapping the house with explosives, he had to be bored or an extreme loner. He had enough equipment in his luggage to make whatever explosives devices he wanted. When he made his move, Wade would have to keep a sharp eye out for trip wires, fragmentation grenades, and C-4 shape charges around door sills.
By 5:00 a.m. Wade was already situated in a new surveillance position. This second position was more obscure and better for daylight observation. Wade watched through binoculars when the maid appeared to clean and noted the time. Using a master key, she let herself in. Wade was glad to see that no explosives went off. While she cleaned, Mashburn broke his usual routine, and drove off in his car, with Wade following at a safe distance.
Immediate questions came to Wade about the location of the suitcases in the living room. They must be closed and locked or covered, away from the prying eyes of the maid. Wade followed Mashburn to the grocery store. The maid was still cleaning when Mashburn returned with enough grocery bags to fill the cupboards of two houses.
It was clear Mashburn was furnishing the bunker for multiple operatives. When the maid finished, Wade followed her to her next cleaning stop three blocks away. For that job, she pulled a commercial cleaning cart from the garage, which sported a clipboard hanging from the side. Wade wanted to get a closer look at that board.