“I couldn’t agree more.”
“And if we find out that’s the kind of thing Raven’s involved with?”
“Then we communicate it to Cantrell. Job done.”
Harv took a sip of coffee. “I wish it were that simple. I don’t trust her as fully as you do.”
“I’m aware of that. We’ll just make sure we stick to the plan, whatever it is.”
“How can you be so calm?”
“I guess I just—”
Their special cell phone chimed once. They looked at the text screen.
Call me
“Here we go.”
Nathan punched in Cantrell’s cell phone number, engaged the speakerphone function, and turned the volume down low. Out of habit, they adjusted their chairs a little so they could keep an eye on each other’s backs.
“Thank you for getting back to me so quickly,” Cantrell said. “You secure?”
“Yes, we’re inside the lobby bar at the Hyatt. No one’s around.”
“Several hours ago, our messenger made contact again,” she said. “The specifics are just landing on my desk.”
Nathan exchanged a glance with Harv.
“Embassy cameras captured a compact white vehicle pull to the curb at the bus stop. Without getting out, the driver, presumably our messenger, tossed a baseball over the fence. A folded piece of paper was attached with rubber bands. The vehicle’s plates had been removed. From the footage, it looks like a million other compact cars. The video is virtually worthless for IDing the driver. The note was a little longer this time. Basically, our mystery man wants a face-to-face with Harvey and says he won’t talk to anyone else.”
“If Harv goes, I go,” Nathan said. “It’s not negotiable.”
“Agreed. Since he left no way to contact him, we’ll just have to assume he’ll be okay meeting with both of you.”
“If he knows Harv, he probably knows me as well. We were together the entire time.”
Cantrell went silent for a moment. “What does the term ‘scatter point alpha’ mean to you?”
Nathan made eye contact with Harv and nodded an okay.
Harv answered. “It was one of four regrouping locations we’d planned to use if any member of an Echo or kilo team got separated from the group. In other words, if the shit hit the fan and we all had to bolt, we’d meet up at the closest scatter point and await retrieval.”
“Would you be able to precisely locate it for me if you had good aerials?”
“Definitely,” Harv said. “All four scatter points were on either ridgelines or mountaintops along a northeast to southwest axis. We purposely avoided choosing the highest or most prominent peaks, but each location provided a 360-degree defensible position with clear lines of sight to the north for radio communication.”
“Is that where the messenger wants to meet Harv?” asked Nathan.
“Yes,” said Cantrell. “Which means our messenger is likely one of your kilo grads. Who else would know about your rendezvous points?”
“No one,” Nathan said. “It’s entirely possible Raven himself tossed both notes over the fence.”
“I’ve considered that. And if true, we need to know what he wants.”
Harv continued, “It could also be the opening move of an extortion scheme. Pay me money, or I go public with Echo.”
“I’ve considered that as well, but if extortion were his thing, I think he would have tried it long ago. In two days, Nicaragua’s hosting an economic summit in Managua. Central American commerce ministers from Mexico to Colombia will be there. Not surprisingly, the United States is not invited. Security will be tight but not out to a thousand yards. All Raven would need is a little inside information to make a hit. As you know, even our own president isn’t one hundred percent safe from a truly great shooter.”
“And you think Raven might have his sights on one of the ministers?” Nathan asked.
“The timing of Raven’s reemergence, if we can call it that, is highly suspect. But that’s not my worst-case scenario.”
“What is?” asked Nathan.
Their conversation paused for a few seconds. Nathan waited, hoping Cantrell would be forthcoming.
“There’s a distinct possibility this whole thing is being staged to lure you into Nicaragua. There’s no way to know why. It could be anything from revenge to extortion.”
“Thank you for being candid,” Nathan said. “We’ve already talked about the risk of it being a trap, but we can’t address any tactical or security issues until we hear your plan for getting us in and out. We know those mountains well, and we can disappear if we have to.”
“It’s my job to make sure it doesn’t come to that.”
“You’re the only person we trust, Rebecca.”
“I appreciate that. Do you happen to remember a town called Santavilla?”
He exchanged another glance with Harv. “Yes.”
“Then you also remember a Pastor Tobias?”
“He helped us during a tight situation. We may not have survived without him.”
“Five days ago, he was shot and killed by a sniper. Presumably Raven.”
“Was that in the baseball note?” Harv asked.
“Yes.”
“That’s a bad deal,” Nathan said. “He was a good man.”
Harv asked, “Do you think the murder of Pastor Tobias could somehow be connected to the approaching summit?”
“I don’t know, probably not. All we know is that the shooting seems to have prompted the messenger to request this meeting with you.”
“When?”
“He wants to meet you in just over… thirty-three hours.”
“That’s going to be tight,” said Nathan, “especially if we have to hoof it through miles of jungle. Alpha was the westernmost point in the scatter point chain. Rebecca, you know that area. It won’t be easy or quick getting there. We are not making a HALO insertion. Those days are long gone.”
“I’d never ask that of you, especially at night.”
“Also,” said Harv, “your special cell phone isn’t likely to get a signal in that area. How will we communicate with you?”
“I’m working on that too. Right now, though, I need current photos of you for your fake passports and visas. I don’t anticipate you’ll need them, but it’s better to be on the safe side.”
“It looks like there’s a camera built into this phone,” said Harv. “We’ll text you some headshots in a few minutes.”
“One question,” said Nathan. “Exactly how are we getting down there?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” said Cantrell. “The US Navy is giving you a ride.”
CHAPTER 7
Driven by a primal desire, Franco returned to Santavilla in search of human prey. It had been too long since his last indulgence. Although one of the girls at the Silver Sands Club in Managua could’ve served his every need, she could never give him what he craved. Having his way with a prostitute was like feeding a dead rat to a boa.
He currently traveled alone but without concern. Everyone knew El Jefe’s men drove metal-gray Range Rovers, and no one would dare challenge him. Besides, he was well armed. Whenever he made a solo trip to the village, he wore a sidearm and kept an Uzi under his seat.
His timing perfect, he drove across the wooden bridge at 1955 hours. He wanted to roll into town just as the general store closed. The town looked asleep, no activity to be seen. No doubt the peasants were well into their marijuana and moonshine.
At Tobias’s church, a pit bull mix wandered into the street — he’d seen the dog before. If Tobias had been feeding it prior to his death, no one seemed to have assumed the job. The emaciated animal stopped and stared, its eyes pleading. Franco eased off the gas and rolled the passenger window down. The dog cringed and backed up a step.
“Easy boy, it’s your lucky evening.” He tossed his barbecued pork sandwich out the window. The animal flinched, then sniffed the air. It ran to the sandwich and consumed it in several violent chomps. Franco had planned to eat the sandwich on the way back to Managua later tonight, but this poor creature needed it more than he did. The dog looked up as if to thank him before retreating back toward the church.