Flounder was also nearby, in the team’s Lada, parked a block outside the market from where he had a good vantage point of the sidewalk cafés and restaurants outside the bazaar, as well as anyone entering or leaving the square from this end. Everyone was wired with concealed Motorola radios and mikes.
Avery finally emerged from the opposite end of the bazaar from which he’d entered. The herds of people grew thinner here. He sat down at a tiny, circular sidewalk table outside of a Turkish restaurant. He’d selected the table deliberately and positioned himself in such a way that offered a wide vantage point of the street and sidewalks in either direction. A waiter quickly appeared with tea and a menu.
As he leisurely sipped his tea and pretended to peruse the menu, Avery scanned the passing pedestrians and vehicles from behind reflective mirror sunglasses. He almost wished that he did have time to eat, because the kabob sounded tempting and inhaling the aromas coming from the grill stimulated his appetite.
Dagar soon appeared, emerging from the bazaar, some seventy feet away. Despite the sea of faces, the Tajik registered immediately on Avery’s radar, and Avery instantly forgot about food.
Avery tilted his head and spoke into his throat mike, identifying Dagar to the Sideshow operators by the tan jacket and pakol hat the little Tajik wore and giving them his current position. Surveillance teams always recognized and tracked a target by articles of clothing — usually shoes, since a professionally trained subject would dress in layers that could be easily discarded and replaced, but shoes weren’t so easily switched.
Problem was there were so many people packed in here that it’d be pretty difficult to stay on anyone.
Reaper responded first, ten seconds later, saying that he had eyes on target.
Flounder chimed in seven seconds later, indicating he’d spotted Dagar, too. Then so did Mockingbird. Now that they’d identified Dagar, the Sideshow crew could sweep the market and look out for where his potential backup would be positioned. This is what Reaper and Flounder did, while Mockingbird kept his eyes on Dagar.
Mockingbird circled around on foot and made a pass, coming within four feet of Dagar, and spotted the bulge beneath the Tajik’s jacket on his left side. He reported to Avery that the target was armed.
Avery took note of this. He hadn’t expected Dagar to show. He anticipated that at this point Dagar would have some suspicions that his cover was blown, especially if he was in contact with either Cramer or the Russians. The fact that Dagar did show could only mean a trap. After all, the Tajik hadn’t been armed at Port Said or when they travelled to Gorno-Badakhshan, but now he was packing a gun to see Avery.
That’s why Avery had Poacher’s crew on target. Dagar could have a kill team hidden nearby or amongst the shoppers, watching and waiting, doing the same thing Sideshow was doing.
This wasn’t the place for a confrontation. There were too many civilians present. The plan was to lure Dagar away from the bazaar, to somewhere quiet and isolated. If Dagar did have backup, then he’d almost certainly have the same idea and try to lure Avery onto his intended killing ground, but Avery wasn’t going to let Dagar take control.
Dagar was within several yards of the Turkish restaurant. He didn’t even see Avery until the American abruptly stood up from his chair. Then he caught sight of him and started walking in Avery’s direction.
Avery never looked at Dagar or made eye contact. He reached for his wallet in his hip pocket, where it was easy to feel and remain consciously aware of. Pickpockets and thieves weren’t uncommon here. Plus, a professional spook could grab a subject’s wallet, check his ID, and replace it without the target even knowing.
Avery left a couple American dollars on the table, placing the bills partially underneath his cup to hold them down against the breeze. By the time he replaced the wallet in his pocket, Dagar had reached his table, and Avery instantly turned and started walking, falling into stride with Dagar, by his side.
Dagar opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off.
“Come with me,” Avery instructed the Tajik, pushing him along. He led Dagar back through the bazaar from which he’d just come.
Along the way, unknown to Avery, they passed the IMU point men. Avery’s eyes passed over one of them, but his mind didn’t register him or make any note of him. Even Dagar missed him, and he had spoken with the IMU lieutenant only an hour earlier.
There were three of them, and they’d been sent in advance of Avery’s arrival. Mostly through luck and good timing — right place, right time — one even had been on hand to make note of the Lada Avery arrived in. The IMU cell had Avery within their stakeout box the entire time. And Avery was by no means a soft target, which spoke volumes of their tradecraft and skills. The only good news was that they hadn’t been able to identify any of the Sideshow team.
These IMU operatives were specially trained in surveillance and field craft by a former KGB pavement artist, as those who specialized in conducting outdoor surveillance on foot were known in the trade. This IMU cell was utilized to scout out targets and locations in advance of terrorist attacks and assassinations.
Flounder and Reaper missed them because they were only two sets of eyes covering a huge crowd and had little time to prepare in advance. The market was an unfamiliar setting for them. Plus, most important, the IMU team knew how to blend in and appear inconspicuous and hadn’t gone anywhere near Dagar or come into contact with or acknowledged him in any way. As far as Reaper and Mockingbird were concerned, the IMU surveillance operatives were simply more local shoppers or tourists.
It helped that they didn’t look like the typical Islamic insurgents. They’d shaved their beards, gotten haircuts, and wore jeans and short sleeve shirts, or local chapan robes with tupi skullcaps, and blended in easily among the mid-afternoon crowd of the marketplace, going from shops and tables and pretending to examine trinkets and widgets and haggle with the shopkeepers and merchants. One of them leisurely snacked on an apple he’d bought from a fruit vendor, and another carried a stuffed shopping bag. They were each of medium height and build, with relaxed expressions and unassuming eyes.
“Did you bring the Uzbek back from Yazgulam?” Avery asked and turned his head to appraise Dagar for the first time.
Dagar hesitated before responding, still trying to make sense of Avery’s abrupt behavior. It was clear to him that Avery knew something. “Regrettably, he died in Gurgakov’s custody, from infection to his wounds. Shortly after you left, he grew very sick and did not recover.”
“That’s too bad.” Avery knew Dagar lied. It was how he’d said it and the look in his eye that betrayed him. Before answering, his eyes had shifted quickly down and to the left, while his chest rose with the intake of a deep breath, a tic common when someone tells a lie. Trained intelligence officers, cops, and interrogators knew to look out for signs like that and other micro fluctuations in the face, demeanor, voice inflection, and body language.
As they walked, Avery considered the possibilities. Either Dagar had simply kept the cash for himself and left the prisoner with Gurgakov or he’d taken the Uzbek and executed him somewhere between Gorno-Badakhshan and Dushanbe, or delivered him to the IMU or the Russians. He thought that Dagar intended to have him meet with a similar fate this afternoon.
“May I ask where we are going?” the Tajik asked.
Avery took wide, purposeful strides, but stayed at Dagar’s side, his left shoulder and arm behind him, nudging him along, and the much shorter Tajik struggled to keep up, while avoiding bumping into people.
“Someplace safe,” Avery said. “My cover may be blown.”