Another hour passed. All the shooters were in place on rooftops. Dignitaries with their entourages began to assemble on stage with exchanges of smiles and handshakes. A live U.K. military band all decked out in dress whites and shining instruments began to play once the recorded anthems ended.
Press correspondents were quick to stick microphones in the faces of dignitaries, still linked by cable to some cameraman’s shoulder. No one was ready to take seats yet. Wade scanned the growing group of dignitaries with binoculars.
One woman stood out among the sea of dark-suited men and uniformed military. She wore a cream-colored suit with a matching jacket over a burgundy silk blouse. The lapel of her jacket held an elegant but small bright-red rosebud. This well-dressed woman had to be Zara Wicks. She circulated among the crowd, smiling and shaking hands, with practiced British social skills, giving no hint of her real MI-6 identity. At that moment Wade decided she was the person he would call when the time was right.
Other women on the podium seemed to be administrative types, busily checking off lists and handing out programs. They wore long black cocktail dresses which must have been uncomfortable under the hot tropical sun. Not only were the dignitaries feeling the heat, but both the temperature and tension on the rooftops were also rising at an alarming rate.
Chapter 28
The unanticipated noise from the band made radio communications difficult. Wade was trying to anticipate Stephan’s next move. He wanted Max’s best guess.
“Do you think Stephan will fire or detonate first?”
“I don’t know. We have to be ready either way. We also have to consider what we’ll do if he leaves his position early.”
“If for any reason he breaks early, you take Boris and Jackson. You should have multiple shots from your position. I’ll take Stephan.”
“Affirmative.”
“Do you have your distances and windage calculated?”
“Down to the quarter centimeter.”
“I thought so. Speaking of Stephan, it looks like he just finished doping his scope.”
“We need to be ready. They’ll probably fire on his command.”
There was a brief pause before Wade gave Max his instructions. “Assume your firing position and be ready for my command. We are hot. Hold for green command to fire when ready.”
Max immediately replied, “Ready to fire on command. Over.”
Preliminary speeches of introduction were starting at the podium. The first to speak was the Belize Minister of the Interior. According to the published schedule, he was to introduce the military guests, and the British admiral would introduce the Prime Minister.
Stephan was splitting his focus between checking his rifle scope and observing the frequency dial on the detonation device. It looked to Wade like Stephan hadn’t made up his mind which action he would take first.
“Stephan is on his transmitter. Shooters are in ready position.”
Stephan called out orders. Each of his men held their positions as ordered. He picked up the detonation device, pointing the antenna directly at the podium.
A British admiral dressed in a white uniform with medals glowing in the sun rose from his seat to approach the podium. As he adjusted the microphone to his height, Stephan pressed the detonation button but nothing happened. He pressed it again, and nothing.
Stretching out his arm, Stephan extended the antenna getting the maximum distance toward the cases, and pressed it for a third time. Retrieving the device for a closer look, he readjusted the frequency settings and pressed again. Still nothing happened. Stephan shook the device, pressed buttons, and turned dials before slamming it down on the roof in frustration. He picked up the radio transmitter to yell instructions to Boris and Jackson.
Stephan’s operatives were already in their firing positions when they began their personal countdowns. Max had his earpiece in place and heard Wade’s voice.
“You have a green to fire when ready.”
Boris had just moved his finger from the trigger guard to the trigger when Max’s round hit his neck, severing his carotid artery, so that he fell lifeless in a pool of blood. Jackson glanced at Boris, looking for a final confirmation. Before Jackson’s head returned to his scope, Max’s second round struck its mark in his chest. The impact knocked him back into a contorted version of his original shooting position.
Wade glanced back to see Max’s successful shots. In the split second it took Wade to return to his scope, Stephan was no longer in his position. Stephan was still on the roof, but his quick reflexes sent him rolling behind a large metal vent. Knowing his shooting position had been compromised, Stephan shielded himself behind the metal ducting while he contemplated his alternatives.
Wade scanned the rooftop, frustrated that he had hesitated. He saw the shadow of Stephan perform another quick roll. The target hugged the metal ducting and roof surface. Realizing his mission had failed, Stephan’s only option now was escape and extraction.
Wade kept scanning, trying to anticipate Stephan’s next move. He saw only fingers from a raised hand grab the rigid door handle and pull. The door opened wide enough to block the small space between the HVAC unit and the duct. Stephan slithered past the door and down the stairs head first like a snake. Wade didn’t have a shot. The only movement was the swinging door left to the mercy of afternoon ocean breezes.
Wade pressed the button on his transmitter. “Base to Sky. The rabbit is on the run. I have him going down stairs. Initiate Extraction Plan 2.”
Max’s response was quick. “Copy. Plan 2 in progress.”
Wade turned to confirm Max’s two kills and briefly turned back to the stage, where the ceremonies were going on undisturbed. He pounded his fist on the roof’s surface, angry at himself for his split second hesitation. Wade wasted no time in disassembling his rifle and scope for his music case before descending the roof stairs in chase of Stephan.
Instinct told him Stephan had multiple options planned. The question now was which option would seem more feasible now that his mission had failed. The motor bikes were the closest extraction vehicles to Stephan now, but Wade didn’t think he would try to use them. In fact, Wade had always believed the bikes were for Boris and Jackson under certain extraction scenarios, but never for Stephan. With his detonation immobilized and his two operatives eliminated, Stephan knew the entire mission was compromised by some group that was just on his heels. He would need to get as far away from Belmopan as quickly as he could. Soon the ceremonies would be breaking up, and traffic congestion around the city would hamper his departure.
Wade continued going through Stephan’s options. He might not try to return to either safe house, believing their location had been discovered. He would also assume the international airport would be covered and too risky. Wade reasoned that Stephan’s car, wherever it was located, was his best option. The closest safe border of escape would be either Mexico or Guatemala.
Wade had to get to his own car if he was going to catch up with Stephan. He didn’t want to draw attention by running, so he briskly walked with his music case in hand like a frustrated musician leaving the orchestra because he’d broken his instrument. Wade finally reached his car and went to the safe house to check to see if Stephan was there. As he expected, Stephan was nowhere to be found. He drove back, retracing the steps Coverall had made, trying to locate Stephan’s car. Unfortunately, he was out of options for most probable evacuation routes.
He needed to get out of the mounting double-parked congestion around the ceremonies. The traffic was getting worse, and Wade was running out of options.