Lethal Authority (Wade Hanna Series Book 2)

by Joseph D'Antoni

  Max frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. If the cases are missing, the other side will be alerted instantly. In addition we can’t be sure what water pressure will do to the detonation device. They may not have to travel far underwater before they explode. That could mean right under our boat.”

  “I didn’t say my idea was a good one – forget I said anything, okay?

  Less than an hour after Max’s exit Stephan left the house in a hurry. Wade followed, heading south on Hummingbird Highway out of Belmopan. Stephan was quick to pass the slow-moving line of cars on the highway. Wade kept a safe distance, and Stephan clearly wasn’t spending much time checking his rear view mirrors. Whatever his destination, he was eager and wasting no time to get there.

  Wade hadn’t been this way before, so the terrain and local signposts were completely unfamiliar. He radioed his position to Max, but there was no response. As Wade watched, Stephan increased his speed on Hummingbird Highway heading toward Dangriga until he realized he missed his exit. He hurriedly took the next exit, turned around and got back on Hummingbird, heading west. At a safe distance behind him, Wade followed his target as he took the Southern Highway South toward the Silk Grass Forest Reserve. Stephan’s nerves seemed on edge. From what little Wade could see, he appeared to be constantly looking at his watch and the maps on the seat beside him. Wade concluded he was definitely trying to make a deadline.

  Stephan took the Hopkins Road exit and made a sharp left at a stop sign. The unmarked, two-lane farm road was lined with fences and pastures on both sides. A rooster tail of red dirt kicked up by Stephan’s car was visible for miles, so Wade didn’t feel the need to follow too closely; the rooster tail would clearly lead the way.

  Four miles later, Stephan made a right turn onto another unmarked dirt farm road. The rooster tail dust changed from red to a light tan color that coated the rear of Stephan’s car, blocking both his side and rear view vision. Wade easily followed the rooster tail from several hundred yards behind.

  Green pastures turned to orchards of yellow fruit trees that now lined both sides of the road. The distant tree line at the base of the mountain marked the far end of the orchards. Stephan seemed lost in the crisscross patterns of unmarked dirt roads and fence posts. He stretched, looking up and down both sides of the road and consulted what must have been directions on the front seat.

  Wade didn’t want to follow too closely, even though it was impossible to see out of Stephan’s dust-covered car. His car would be easy to spot on the empty farm roads, so Wade decided to take a different route that would intersect Stephan’s.

  His intersect route initially took him away from Stephan’s car. After reaching his new observation point, Wade looked back to track Stephan’s dust trail, but there was none. Stephan’s car must have turned and followed another dirt road to the end of the orchards just before the entrance to the foothills. Wade backtracked until he spotted Stephan’s dirt-covered car among a stand of trees, then moved closer to get a better look.

  Wade’s tires thumped in rapid succession as he crossed the rows of metal pipes that made up a cattle guard. Moving slowly along an old mud trail, he made his way past crisscrossing fence posts until he approached a safe distance from Stephan’s car. Up ahead was a stand of tall trees planted to serve as a wind break for the orchards. The trees marked the end of both the orchard and the muddy road he was on.

  He slowly drove a little farther, moving his front wheels across a rickety old wooden bridge, hoping it would hold the weight of the car. A small break in the heavy tree line drew Wade’s attention. He pulled his car into the narrow space between two large overhanging branches and moved out on foot to the edge of the trees.

  The view through his binoculars revealed the layout beyond the tree line. He saw Stephan’s car, covered in dust, parked near a small yellow farmhouse. On the other side of the tree line was a large expanse of open field that curved upward at the base of the foothills. A light-colored strip of compacted dirt ran through the center of the field.

  Wade heard a noise to his left and quickly turned with his pistol extended. Two white- faced Brahman-Charolais bulls looked back at him from the other side of the fence. He momentarily gasped in thanks that the thousand-pound bulls were enclosed by a sturdy fence. His new-found friends seemed content, chewing large mouthfuls of lush grass and staring in bemusement at the intruder.

  Wade remembered the sign on the post hanging by one nail when he made his last turn: “McLawrey’s Mango Farm.” On a road hardly traveled, Wade thought he would not likely find other visitors. Turning his attention back to the tree line, Wade wanted a better position from which to observe his target. He decided that any threat would probably come from the yellow house or from behind his own position. He headed toward the windbreak fifty yards closer to the house that offered a better observation and shooting position.

  No sooner had he gotten into position when he heard the faint sound of a revving engine from a long distance away. He focused on the roads leading towards the horizon, scanning for fast-moving vehicles, but there were no dust tails or vehicles in sight. The sound grew louder and then faded away.

  The distant field was 400 yards away. He looked for roads covered with brush, hidden from view leading into and out of the field. Nothing he saw suggested a threat. Surely this field can be approached from more than one direction.

  Quickly scanning the front of the farmhouse he saw Stephan appear in the doorway and walk along a path to the edge of the open field. He cautiously looked around, checking in all directions. Cupping his hands over his brow, Stephan looked up. The sun was just clearing the mountain tops; the temperature was rising and the glare was blinding. Wade trained his binoculars in the same direction. It was difficult to see anything but the white light of the sun that blurred his vision. Even the mountain tops were obscured by the glare.

  Back at the car Wade checked his radio transmitter and put in a call to Max. The static in the transmission confirmed that he was definitely out of range. He checked his weapons, making sure both his sniper rifle and pistol were loaded and ready.

  He continued surveying the field in front of him and the orchard behind. Wade’s biggest concern was someone approaching from the orchard side, cutting off his exit and forcing him out into the open field. He settled in for a long, hot stakeout, leaving the car’s front door open like a horizontal sail to catch the slightest passing breeze. He smiled when he remembered he had thrown in bottles of fresh water just before he met Max.

  Putting his head back on the seat and closing his eyes was the only rest he going to get until Stephan made the next move. Just as his eyes closed, he once again heard the high-pitched engine sound in the far distance. He grabbed his binoculars and scanned the horizon.

  The sound was coming from the glare off the mountain ridge. A glimpse of a silver reflection broke up the glare as a mosquito-sized object descended from the mountain ridge. A Cessna 414 dual-engine aircraft was using Stephan’s car to line up its descent over the open field. Clear of the mountain ridge, the plane quickly dropped over the field. The engine sound modulated to a low roar as wheels touched the graded dirt runway and taxied back to Stephan’s car.

  As the plane came to a stop, Wade quickly scribbled down its tail numbers. The pilot disembarked, and he and Stephan shook hands. After a brief chat, the men approached the rear compartment of the aircraft. It took both men to unload the long and heavy green canvas military bag.

  With each man supporting one end of the elongated canvas bag, they marched in unison over to Stephan’s vehicle and placed it inside. Their parting words were brief. The pilot walked back to the plane, stopping to check several exterior parts of the aircraft before climbing into the cockpit.

  By the time Stephan got back to his car, the Cessna props were spinning fast enough for the plane to taxi its way to the center of the field. The plane turned into the wind as the pilot gunned the engines. The lift was sudden, and the plane dipped each wing slightly bef
ore banking right towards the mountains.

  Stephan’s vehicle retraced its path to the highway. Wade was in no rush, knowing that Stephan was headed back to the safe house in Belmopan, having replaced the weaponry for the Belize mission.

  Back in Belize City, Wade joined Max for a dinner of fine local seafood.

  “So how did it go with Yari?”

  Max unwrapped his silverware and set it on the table. “Fine. I gave him the address and street coordinates, and he said he would have something by the end of the day. He asked us to call him tonight for an update.”

  “Did you speak with your explosives instructor about the cases?”

  “Yes, I think we’re both on the same page as to what the cases might contain. He gave me a few ideas on how to approach the mechanism from the outside.”

  “Wow. I’m still freaked out by all this. Did he say anything about that weird locking mechanism in the handle?”

  “It’s probably Russian. He’s seen it before.”

  Wade took a sip of water. “What about dismantling or disarming these things?”

  “It’s pretty complicated, but I’m comfortable with dismantling them.”

  “In other words, you’re saying the details are over my head.”

  “I just need you to okay the move forward, so I can get the tools I need to complete the job. It’s your call.”

  “I need to think about it tonight, okay?”

  “Sure. We just have to find a location to work on the cases where no one is around.”

  Wade’s eyes widened in question. “You mean a location where no one will see us? Or one where innocents won’t be harmed if the case explodes?”

  “Both.”

  “Let’s call Yari after dinner to see if he’s learned anything new. I also have to make a call to my agency. If you don’t mind, perhaps you can do some library research while I’m on the phone?”

  “Not a problem.”

  The dinner was awesome, as each man tried a different local fish dish preceded by two rounds of conch ceviche. They made it to the library an hour before it closed. Wade made the call to Yari while Max went inside to continue his research.

  “It’s me - Wade. Were those location coordinates helpful?”

  “They were great. I got four calls just today. I now not only have Stephan’s location pinned down, but I have the two other operatives’ phone locations as well. I wasn’t able to get any confirmation on the name Stephan Woretz, though. It’s an alias. The credit card and passport in that name are also bogus.”

  “I thought that might be the case. What did you learn from the calls?”

  “It sounds like Stephan is calling all the shots, just as you suspected. I didn’t see any communication with Condor. It’s like Condor has now dropped out of this operation.”

  “Did you get anything more on Stephan?”

  “Yes, I had one of our accent specialists listen to the calls. He determined that German is Stephan’s primary language from birth. At some point during his youth, Stephan also learned to speak Russian – we know because he spoke to one of the other operatives in Russian. Our language specialist thinks the Russian is very natural. He thinks he probably learned Russian while he was young, but only after he learned German. His English is okay, but probably learned much later in life.”

  “What about the other operatives?”

  “It looks like you’ll have the company of two additional people. They discussed a third operative, but Stephan rejected his involvement.”

  “Do we know anything about them?”

  “From the conversation, it seems both of them know and have worked with Stephan in the past. One operative is Bulgarian, and the other was calling from a phone in Chile – but he spoke with an Eastern European accent. Our language specialist says he’s from one of the Soviet bloc countries, but he’s not Russian. They all speak English. In fact, 80 percent of the conversations are in English. There were just some references to personal items that we had to translate.”

  “I want to know what those personal items are. They may be important. But let’s not get into that right now. Do you know when they’re scheduled to arrive in Belize?”

  Yari cleared his throat. “The Bulgarian arrives the day after tomorrow. The guy from Chile is tied up on another job. He’s scheduled to come in a day or two after the Bulgarian. They’re supposed to confirm all flight information with Stephan tomorrow.”

  “Good work.”

  “Are you ready for them?”

  Wade sighed aloud. “We’ve got lots to do, but we’ll be ready. I’ll call you tomorrow for the flight info.”

  “Say hi to Max for me.”

  “Will do. By the way, our target took delivery of weapons today from a small private airplane. Here are the tail numbers. See what you can find out about the owners of the plane.”

  “Will do.”

  “Oh, and I need a patch for my call to the Agency.”

  “Call back on this phone in ten minutes. I’ll set it up.”

  “We’ll talk soon.”

  For ten minutes, Wade scribbled a few notes on his pad before picking up the phone.

  He smiled when she picked up. “Hi, it’s me.”

  “Hi, you. I thought you might be calling today.”

  “I would’ve called earlier but I was tied up with some Brahma bulls.”

  “Are those the one with the big humps on their backs?”

  “Yes. The ones they ride in rodeos.”

  “I hope you didn’t get near them.”

  “Not too close. Did you discover anything on your end?”

  “I’m not on a secure phone right now on my end.”

  “Just keep it general. We’ll be okay.”

  Again Wade didn’t mention that he had already secured the line.

  “There’s one U.S. senator who has introduced a bill supporting a stronger U.S. presence in the Gulf of Mexico. He’s pushing hard to gain support in the Senate.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “Senator Charles Lanier.”

  “You might check on his background. Did he ever serve in Vietnam, or in any intelligence services? That should all be public record.”

  “I’ll do that. The only other thing I found is that the Russian-Cuban affiliation is cooling off. Cuba expected more from the relationship, including more financial aid from Russia. All they got were a lot of promises. Apparently when the Russians didn’t get the missile bases they wanted, they didn’t want to play house any more. I also question the involvement of other Central and South American countries. Several are playing footsies with Cuba, but I didn’t discover any unusual activity.”

  “Anything more on Spencer’s death?”

  “Nothing yet, but I’m working a new angle. I’ll let you know when we have a more secure connection.”

  “I have a busy day tomorrow, and I’m dead tired right now, but we’ll talk again soon.”

  Chapter 25

  Isolated jungle location

  Max and Wade were in Max’s car five miles outside of Belmopan when they turned off the highway. Max made a couple of strange turns onto dirt roads, which caught Wade by surprise.

  Then Max stopped the car and turned to Wade. “I thought this might be a good spot.”

  They both got out and looked around. Max waved to Wade. “This way.”

  A short path led to a clearing in the middle of the jungle lined by thick overhanging branches and a dark jungle behind, something indigenous Indians might call a rest area. Standing in the middle of the clearing, Wade turned up the palms of his hands, looking confused.

  “What’s this? When in the hell did you find this place?”

  “After we changed watch yesterday, I followed the jungle line along the road. I just had a hunch.”

  A morning sunrise had just started spreading its rays over the mountainside, but it was still dark underneath the jungle canopy. Wade realized he had given Max the okay to examine the cases more closely, but still wasn’t sure w
hat Max had in mind.

  “Why here?”

  “We have at least 100 yards’ clearance on all sides, surrounded by at least another 300 yards of jungle for buffer.”

  “What exactly are we buffering?”

  “In the event the cases detonate.”

  “What happens then?”

  “From the size of the cases, and what my instructor and I expect to be in them, we estimate the explosive damage will cover the entire area and most of the buffer zone.”

  Wade shuddered involuntarily. “I mean, what about us?”

  “If either of these cases goes off, we won’t be around to worry about it. But at least nobody else will be harmed.”

  Max’s sobering comment initially passed over Wade’s head. A minute later he was lost in silence, when reality set in, waves of trauma that went through him like the explosion itself. Wade stared up at the shards of morning light breaking through the canopy, and then gazed down at the foot-high mist that hovered just above the ground. He felt as if he were looking at his own burial site.

  Wade reminded himself that Max had made his statement in a state of perfect calm. It was like he was more concerned about others who would be harmed than the two of them. Wade wondered why he wasn’t in that same frame of mind. Before Wade could voice the objections that were running through his mind, his partner spoke.

  “Let’s check our perimeter.”

  “Good idea.”

  “You take that side.”

  With Max leading, the two men spread out to different parts of the clearing. Each slowly entered the thick jungle vegetation, their 9 mm sidearms at the ready.

  They instinctively traveled in a wide, oblong pattern, using hand signals to agree that they would meet at the apex of where the two football-shaped half-circles met. Fifty feet into the jungle, Wade heard a small sound to his right. He quickly turned his head, drawing his semi-automatic from its holster.

  Startled by Wade’s presence below, a keel-billed toucan dropped a large fruit from his bill. Wade’s next step brought the toucan’s vocal protest, and a loud child-like scream broke the cathedral stillness, directly over his head.