He thought for a minute. “I was only up at the farmhouse once, but now that you mentioned it, I did see some kids’ toys in the living room.”
“What kind of toys?”
“Why does it matter?”
“Just answer the question.”
He looked up at the ceiling for a second. “Ah . . . I think there was a doll and a couple of books.”
“Sounds like he might have a daughter.”
Mitchell shook his head. “I guess I was absent from class the day our instructors told us if we were taken prisoner, we should find out if our jailer has a family.”
“Don’t overlook the minutiae, Ben. It could be the means of getting us out of here.”
“Does that mean you’ve figured out a way to use Alvarez’s family to help us escape?”
“Not yet. But if Alvarez cares about his family like I think he does, then maybe I can convince him it’s in his best interests to help us escape.”
Mitchell ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know, Titus. I can’t think of anything you could say that would make him want to do that.”
“That’s because I haven’t told you what Juliana and I found inside Lorenzo’s guesthouse.”
* * * *
After telling him how we managed to get inside Lorenzo’s compound in the first place, I told him about the ten missing canisters.
“Two weeks before Lorenzo’s tourism celebration, the DDO got a phone call from the Chemical Materials Agency in Aberdeen. They said they’d just discovered there were ten canisters of sarin gas missing from the weapons shipment they’d confiscated at the Baltimore truck stop.”
“Los Zetas didn’t deliver all two hundred canisters?”
“No, they kept ten of them for themselves, and everyone figured they’d stuck them in a warehouse in Tijuana until—”
“Oh, no,” Mitchell said, “is that what you found inside Lorenzo’s guesthouse?”
I nodded. “They were located in the back bedroom where we expected to find you.”
“Did the DDO send a Special Ops Team in to get them?”
“No, he made the decision not to touch them; at least, not right now.”
“Why?”
“Can’t you guess?”
Mitchell thought for a moment. “Was it because of me?”
I nodded. “Your father had already received an email from the cartel demanding a ransom payment of ten million dollars, and in that same email, the cartel threatened to use the sarin gas on innocent civilians if their demands weren’t met. The DDO was worried if he sent a Special Ops Team to retrieve the canisters, the cartel might retaliate by killing you.”
“The DDO was worried? Don’t you mean the Senator was apoplectic? I’m guessing the two of them butted heads over every detail of this operation.”
“You’re right about that, but I was also in agreement the canisters should be kept in place until you were out of the cartel’s hands. A few days ago, it looked like that was about to happen when the cartel sent the Senator the final instructions on how the exchange was supposed to take place.”
Mitchell pointed over at the table in the middle of the room. “The last time Alvarez took a picture of me, I was sitting right there, and, like I always did, I asked him how much longer he was going to keep me here. Usually, he refused to answer me, but this time he told me it wouldn’t be much longer. I really thought it was about to happen.”
“It appeared that way in the email. The exchange was supposed to take place in The Bahamas on San Andros island. One of Los Zetas’ lieutenants, Franco Cabello, has a house there and—”
“I know Franco Cabello, or, at least I know of him. C. J. used to mention him whenever anything came up about a kidnapping. He always called him one of Los Zetas’ dealmakers.”
“Well, he’s not making deals anymore. He’s dead.”
* * * *
Mitchell did nothing more than raise his eyebrows when I explained the protocols for making the exchange in San Andros called for Juliana and me to pose as a married couple from his father’s congressional staff. However, he got agitated when I told him Carlton had decided to leave Juliana on the island after we discovered Franco Cabello had been killed by a Hezbollah hit man.
“Are you saying Juliana is all alone on San Andros without any backup?”
“Yes, but—”
“With Cabello dead, the cartel might consider her a suspect. She could be in real danger right now.”
“I doubt if she’s in any more danger than the two of us are right now.”
He shook his head. “It’s not the same and you know it.”
“Seth Harvey and a couple of surveillance teams are keeping an eye on Juliana, and now that I’m missing, I’m sure Douglas will get her out of there.”
“Did the Ops Center get some new intel? Is that why you came back to Santiago?”
“I guess you could say that. A guy named Frank Benson finally figured out Lorenzo was using this place as a safe haven for his cartel activities, and that information jived with what Lorenzo’s wife had told us about a farm in El Cobre.”
“I’ve never heard of Frank Benson.”
“He used to be with the Agency, but now he’s a fed. He was the Bureau’s representative on the Joint Task Force.”
“You don’t usually have good things to say about a fed.”
“That’s true, but as long as you’re willing to overlook Frank’s idiosyncrasies, he’s okay.”
Mitchell smiled. “I get that.”
I decided not to ask him why.
* * * *
After I gave Mitchell the highlights of what Benson had discovered about Lorenzo’s connection to the Alma de Cuba coffee plantations, I told him about the assignment Carlton had given me before I left San Andros.
“He wanted me to set up surveillance on Número Diez and map out the possibilities for getting a Special Ops Team in here. Douglas didn’t know it, but I’d also made plans to see if I could get a tour of the place.”
Mitchell smiled. “From where I sit, your plan didn’t go so well.”
“When I came up here with Mateo, I actually thought my plan might work.”
“You had Mateo drive you up here?”
“I ran into him at the airport and hired him to give me a tour of El Cobre. We spent most of our time at the Virgen de la Caridad basilica, but afterward, I convinced him to pay a surprise visit to Número Diez. Even though the guards wouldn’t let us past the gate, I had a feeling you were here.”
“Did Mateo act like he knew this was Lorenzo’s place?”
“Not in the least.”
Mitchell shook his head. “I don’t get it then. Why did Lorenzo kidnap you?”
“When Mateo was trying to convince the guards to let us in, Alvarez showed up at the gate to see what was going on, and Mateo got so flustered he told him I was the primary benefactor of the Haitian National Museum. I’m guessing Alvarez saw me as a possible source of income for Lorenzo, and when he shared that information with him, Lorenzo gave him permission to grab me.”
“Believe me, I know from personal experience Alvarez can be pretty intimidating, and he certainly doesn’t mind using heavy-handed tactics when it comes to controlling things around here.”
“That’s my read on him too, but there has to be another side to him as well. In fact, when Mateo and I were visiting the basilica, I happened to see him there praying for someone.”
Mitchell nodded. “I’ve seen that side of him too. When he came to check on the sick guy—the one who eventually died—he put a rosary in his hand and made the sign of the cross over him.”
“That surprises me.”
“So tell me what happened when things went south yesterday.”
I skipped the part about renting the red SUV and my Las Avispas ball cap and went right to the part about setting up surveillance on Número Diez.
“There’s an abandoned gas station across the highway from the entrance to the coffee farm, and the
recon photos showed I could get to it without being seen if I hiked over from a sugarcane plantation that’s about a mile north of here.”
“How were you planning to do that?”
“The plantation caters to the tourist crowd, and I thought I could get to the road behind the plantation if I signed up for a tour. Right in the middle of the tour, Douglas sent me some new surveillance photos, and I went back to my car to take a look at them. I guess I got so distracted by the images, I failed to monitor my surroundings. The next thing I knew Alvarez and his men were shoving me inside their van.”
“Those must have been some interesting photographs.”
“The images showed Lorenzo’s men moving the canisters out of his guesthouse and loading them onto a truck.”
Mitchell thought about that a moment. “I guess it’s not too surprising in light of Cabello’s murder. Lorenzo probably thinks Hezbollah is coming after them.”
“I agree. The longer he can hold onto his stash of chemical weapons, the more leverage he has with the leadership in Los Zetas.”
“Did the Ops Center know where the truck was headed?”
I nodded, but I didn’t say anything.
Mitchell stared at me for a few seconds, and then he slowly shook his head and said, “He didn’t move them here, did he?”
“Not only are the canisters here, Lorenzo brought his entire security force with him. The last time I talked to Douglas, he said they were also setting up concrete barriers at the entrance.”
“That’s gonna make it harder for a Special Ops Team to get in here for a quick snatch and go.”
“Don’t pin your hopes on the Special Ops Team, Ben. The DDO is under direct orders from the President not to cause an international incident. Having a firefight on a coffee plantation in the middle of Cuba probably qualifies as that.”
“So what happens next?”
“I think Douglas will give it a week or so to see if I’m able to get in touch with him, and if that doesn’t happen, he’ll start making plans for a rescue. Whether he’s allowed to initiate the protocols to mount the operation will depend on the DDO.”
“That doesn’t sound promising.”
“No, but maybe we can weigh that decision in our favor.”
“How would we do that?”
“There are two possibilities. One is for us to find a way to let him know exactly where we are.”
Mitchell shook his head. “Without access to a phone, I can’t see that happening. What’s the other possibility?”
“We can find a way get out of here on our own.”
Chapter 46
Monday, August 17
When I woke up the next morning, I was grateful for the pesticide Victor had sprayed around the cabin the night before, even though I had mosquito bites all over my neck and arms and a few around my ankles.
I was grateful because if Victor hadn’t used the repellant, I couldn’t imagine the feast the insects would have enjoyed.
Mitchell just shrugged when I mentioned the mosquitoes had used me as an all-night smorgasbord. “Mosquitoes don’t bother me that much,” he said. “Maybe they don’t like my blood type.”
Before I could open my mouth and dissuade him from that notion, Victor walked in carrying a plate of food in one hand and The Miami Herald in the other.
Once he’d handed Mitchell the plate of scrambled eggs and toast, he walked over to my cell.
“No breakfast for you today, Nacio,” he said.
“Why not?”
He laid the newspaper down on the table and said, “I’m supposed to take your picture.” After removing his handgun from his side holster, he said, “After that, we’ll talk about breakfast.”
When he unlocked my cell, he told me to sit down at the table and hold up the newspaper. Once I’d followed his instructions, he took his cell phone out of his pocket and snapped a couple of pictures.
After he’d finished, I glanced down at the headlines; A hurricane was headed for Florida, the President was starting his vacation, and a major player in the Los Zetas drug cartel had been murdered in the Bahamas.
Victor grabbed the newspaper out of my hands. “You wanna read or have breakfast?”
“I’ll have breakfast.”
He pointed his gun at my cell. “Get inside then.”
After turning the key in the lock, he shook his head and said, “Oh, sorry, Nacio, it looks like you missed breakfast this morning. You must have been out having your picture taken.”
When he headed for the door, I said, “Tell Señor Alvarez I need to talk to him before he sends that picture to my brother.”
He frowned. “Why?”
“That’s between me and Señor Alvarez, but if I’m not given the opportunity to talk to him, you’ll be the one who suffers the consequences.”
He laughed and walked out.
* * * *
Mitchell started questioning me the moment Victor left.
“What was that about?”
“It was about me finding a way to get out of here so I can take a look around this place in the daylight. I’m betting as soon as Alvarez gets my message, he’ll have Victor bring me up to the farmhouse. When that happens, I’ll have a chance to see their security setup, and if the Ops Center has a satellite overhead, they’ll be able to see me.”
“What will you tell Alvarez about your brother?”
“I’ll think of something.”
Mitchell looked down at the uneaten piece of toast on his plate. “I’m stuffed. I don’t think I could eat another bite.”
He picked up the toast.
“Here, catch,” he said, tossing it over to me like a Frisbee.
Although I couldn’t catch it, at least his aim was true, and the piece of toast landed a few inches away from my cell door.
I stuck my hand through the bars and pulled it toward me. “Thanks,” I said, “this is just like having room service at the Meliã.”
Mitchell looked surprised. “You were staying at the Meliã?”
I nodded and continued eating my breakfast.
“Why didn’t you stay at the safe house with Juliana?”
I managed to swallow the dry toast without choking and said, “I wanted to use Mateo as my driver, and I couldn’t very well have him pick me up at the safe house. Besides that, Keith Gabriel had a room at the hotel, and Douglas wanted him to watch my back.”
He shook his head. “I’m sure Juliana was disappointed you weren’t staying at the safe house with her.”
“She seemed okay about it.”
Mitchell was quiet for several minutes, and I wondered if he was remembering the argument they’d had the last time he’d spoken to her. I was hoping that wasn’t the case, because I didn’t want him to bring up what she’d said about me.
I decided it might be better to change the subject, so I pointed at Nacio Bandera’s carryall over in the corner.
“Victor said I’d have to earn whatever was in that suitcase, but since you came here with the clothes on your back, I’m curious what he meant when he said you’d been earning stuff. What kind of stuff have you earned?”
He pointed at the shirt he was wearing. “A week after I got here, I asked for some clean clothes. Once I’d agreed to do Victor’s dirty work, they gave me this shirt and a pair of jeans. This was a few days after they’d removed the dead guy’s body from your cell, so for all I know, this shirt belonged to him.”
“That’s it? That’s all you’ve earned for cleaning up after Victor?”
“No, when I was about to go crazy with boredom, I asked for some books.”
He reached his hand underneath his bed and pulled out two books. “I was very specific about what I wanted, so these cost me plenty.”
When he held up the first book—a thick blue hardback—I recognized the Arabic writing on it immediately.
“Al-Marid,” I said, reading the title. “You asked for an Arabic-English Dictionary?”
He nodded, and then he held up the se
cond book, a bright orange paperback. The title, Elementary Modern Standard Arabic, was printed in large black letters across the front.
I stated the obvious. “You’ve been learning Arabic.”
“Why does that surprise you?” he asked. “You told me if I didn’t learn another language, I’d be stuck with C. J. Salazar as my operations officer for the rest of my career.”
“That was very astute of me.”
“Having something to do every day has made a big difference in my outlook. I have to admit I was getting a little depressed.”
“Juliana and I were worried when we saw the photographs the cartel was sending the Senator. She thought you were being drugged when she saw the first one, but I thought you definitely looked better in the last one.”
Mitchell dropped the two books on his bed and walked over to the cell door. “Juliana was worried about me?”
I nodded. “Like I said, she thought you looked drugged. If I remember correctly, she said your eyes didn’t have any life in them.”
He sat down on the floor with his back up against the wall. “Did she say anything else?”
“Like what?”
“Like how she feels about me.”
* * * *
I avoided the question by telling him how Juliana had reacted the first time she’d seen the proof of life photograph of him.
I admit I slightly exaggerated the depth of her concern, and I used a few unnecessary—but emotional provoking—adjectives to describe how distraught she’d looked when his face appeared on her computer screen. However, I justified my actions by telling myself it was for a good cause.
Mitchell controlled his emotions until I told him how upset Juliana had been when she’d learned Carlton wanted her to stay in San Andros when I returned to Santiago.
“Juliana wanted to take part in your rescue, and she didn’t think it was fair Carlton was asking her to stay on the island. She was—”
“No, Titus,” he said, raising his voice, “Juliana wasn’t upset she couldn’t be here with me. She was upset she couldn’t be here with you.”
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