“Did you know this used to be called Lower Hell’s Gate?” Cesar asked as they exited the village and took another hairpin turn.
“Excuse me?” Valika asked.
“That was the name of the town. Very imaginative, don’t you think? Was that in your intelligence report on the island?”
It had been, but Valika saw no need to mention that. They rounded a corner and a steel pole barred the way, two men with submachine guns standing nearby. They immediately lifted the pole and waved Cesar through.
The gate was probably unnecessary, Valika knew. This was Cesar’s island. She’d studied it years ago, before she accompanied Cesar on her first trip here and the decision was made to make this the heart of Aura’s development.
Saba was the smallest inhabited island in the Lesser Antilles, about a hundred miles southeast of the Virgin Islands. Saba and the surrounding islands of St. Martin, Curacao, St. Eustatius, and Bonaire were originally claimed by the French in 1625, but that didn’t last long, as they were taken by the Dutch in 1636. The larger islands were used as way stations and slave markets, but Saba was pretty much ignored due both to its small size, less than five square miles, and to the lack of any harbor or even a beach for ships to off-load. Over the centuries, a handful of people-mostly ex-slaves-had made the island home.
Cesar’s father had first come to Saba just after the Second World War while sailing in the area. Valika had to allow that the old man had had great foresight. While everyone else began using the Caymans to funnel their money offshore, Cesar’s father decided to have his own private island. He bought out the people. Those who stayed owed everything to Cesar’s family. The islands of the Lesser Antilles had been given self-government after the war, which meant essentially that Cesar’s father and now Cesar ruled. It was not a tourist destination, had no industry or business of note, and thus was basically unnoticed among the many islands in the region.
From a security standpoint, Valika believed it was almost the perfect setup. She’d had Cesar position snipers on the flanks of the volcano that dominated the center of the island, able to cover all avenues of sea and air approaches. Two radar dishes were secreted near the top of the volcano, on either side, each covering 180 degrees. Infiltration from the sea had been-and still was-Valika’s greatest concern. The two tiny beaches where a very small craft might be able to land with great difficulty were mined. Sensors had been strung along the cliffs that faced the sea for the rest of the shoreline. It was as secure as Valika could make it, although she always came up with a way to improve the defenses each time she came here.
They pulled up to a ten-foot-high concrete wall that blocked the road and extended fifty meters in either direction, following the rise of the land, before doubling back out of sight. The double doors in the center swung open and Cesar drove through. Valika noted the guards on the parapet inside the wall, making sure they were alert, then the mansion directly in front. Souris had not said a word since getting off the plane, nor had she reacted to anything they had discussed.
Cesar stopped the Jeep and shut off the engine. “We have a meeting to attend.”
They walked into the mansion, passed through a large foyer and into a centrally located atrium where a half dozen men in expensive suits were seated around a small conference table set to one side. Valika recognized all of them from previous meetings of the group-the leaders of the six major families that made up ninety percent of the Colombian drug cartel. The Ring. Cesar’s father had founded it not long after taking over Saba, and it was one of the most closely kept secrets in the world, although Valika knew that Western intelligence agencies were aware it existed. So far Saba still remained a secret, as the West focused its energies on Colombia, the source of the cocaine.
Valika had extensive files on each of the men present and contingency plans to destroy each of their cartels if Cesar gave her the word. Loyalty was never a certain thing when billions of dollars were involved. The Ring controlled an annual take of over ten billion U.S. dollars, and she knew that given the slightest sign of weakness on the part of Cesar, the jackals would be after him.
Cesar went to the remaining seat at the head of the table. Valika took a position to his right and slightly behind. Souris moved to a chair in the shadows beyond the table and sat there.
“Gentlemen,” Cesar said, nodding at them. He leaned back and clasped his hands contentedly on his lap. “Last night was a success. We have Señoritas Valika and Souris to thank for that.” He turned to the old man seated to his immediate right, the eldest member of the Ring. “And, my comrade, Señor Naldo, you have them to thank for stopping the Americans’ attempt to interdict a rather large shipment of your product and kidnap your son.”
Valika could see that Naldo was not about to shower thanks on her. The men were never happy with her presence. For the past ten years she had run into the macho Latin attitude of South American men in all her dealings. A woman who killed, who was involved in their business, was a threat to their manhood. And Souris ’s mere presence was enough to add a level of unease to any meeting. This was the first time they got to see the American scientist, and she could see many curious glances in Souris ’s direction.
“You have taken a lot of our money.” The man who suddenly spoke was the one on the opposite end of the table. Valika recognized him and wasn’t surprised at his outburst-Alarico, the youngest of those gathered here, who had been grandfathered into the Ring because his now deceased father had been a founding member. She took half a step forward but Cesar raised the pinkie on his left hand, indicating for her to be still.
Alarico continued to address Cesar, ignoring Valika. “I myself have contributed ten times what the shipment last night would have cost Naldo if lost to the Americans, so I assume he has given a similar amount. That is not a profit. I want to know what exactly has been accomplished with our shared resources. I-and the others here-joined the Ring because of your father, because he promised us a new direction through unity, but years have gone by, your father has passed on, and you have told us little. You tell us of tests, use words one would need a dictionary for, and speak of things that make little practical sense.”
“Your father joined the Ring because my father would have crushed him if he didn’t,” Cesar said in an even tone. “And you, my dear Alarico, stay for the same reason.”
Alarico stood, his chair falling back. “I did not come here to be insulted.”
“I am not insulting you,” Cesar replied calmly. “I am mentioning facts. I called you here to tell you our new direction and what you have been paying for.” Cesar leaned back in his seat and gestured for Alarico to sit. Reluctantly, the young man did so. “It began about ten years ago in the United States. They built a facility to work on developing a new type of weapon. Professor Souris was in charge of this research. The place was called the High-Energy Research and Technology Facility. The Americans were planning to develop various weapons that utilized radio waves. One of those programs was called HAARP-which stands for High-frequency Active Auroral Research Program.”
Valika could see Alarico roll his eyes, but Cesar either didn’t see it or chose to ignore it.
“Two years ago, a good portion of the money that you contributed to our organization was used to lure Professor Souris away from the United States and to our lovely island. Before she left, she took all her research data and the prototype of the HAARP computer which she has developed into what we now call Aura.”