Power Move (Alexander King Book 4)

by Bradley Wright

  “While you’ve been sleeping, Dbie has been running down the faceless man in the pics you sent over, and I’ve been digging into Marcus Christian. While we were doing that, Marcus Christian was having a shipment of weapons sent to Mexico City.”

  “Mexico City?” King said.

  “Yeah, crazy, right? Just wait.”

  “So Mr. Gem Exporter from Turkey is actually an arms dealer. Go figure.”

  “Well, here’s where it really ratchets up. I finally get a call back from Raúl Ortega. It was a short call. He basically said the guy who reached out about the list of double agents ghosted him, and he had no other information.”

  “Okay,” King said. “That’s a bummer, but that really isn’t ratcheting it up.”

  “Strap your seat belt, X.” Kyle’s voice was like a kid telling someone how big the fish he caught was. “Not five minutes later I get a call from Cameron Johnson.”

  “Cameron Johnson,” Omari said. “Why do I know that name?”

  “He was the All-American defensive end from Nebraska who passed on the NFL to join the army,” Kyle said.

  “That’s right, they called him Juice,” Omari said. “Big son of a bitch.”

  “And fast too,” Kyle added.

  “Can we reminisce on sports a bit later and get to the point?” Sam scolded.

  “Right,” Kyle said. “Anyway, he went on to be an Army Ranger and did some things for Special Forces. I know him because last year he bailed out the CIA when he took a consulting job and helped me run down the guy we couldn’t find. So Juice called right after I got off the phone with Ortega, wind blowing, couldn’t hardly hear him, and dude was stressed. I’ve never heard him like that. He was calling because I was the only guy he knew to call for help.”

  “What does this have to do with what we’ve got going on?” Sam said. Ever impatient. King understood Kyle was setting things up, and he could appreciate that.

  “Just let me tell this my way,” King said.

  Everyone was quiet.

  “So I asked where he was calling from, and get this, he said Mexico City.”

  “Wow, popular place,” King said.

  “Yeah, but when I asked him what was going on, he said his team had taken the wrong job, and it went sideways.”

  “Holy shit,” King said. “He was running the weapons for Marcus Christian.”

  Sam’s eyes widened.

  “Yep. Can you believe that?”

  “Unreal. What a story.”

  “Oh,” Kyle said, “I’m just getting started.”

  King sat forward in his seat and took a long pull of his drink.

  “So I ask Juice what happened, and he lets me know that the reason he is calling is because he needs help. Not to get out of trouble on an illegal deal gone wrong, but to catch the guy that did him wrong. The name he gave Juice was James Carter. And Juice wasn’t calling because he was pissed or afraid he’d get caught, but because he knows this James guy smuggled in something far worse than just guns and grenades.”

  The little hairs on the back of King’s neck stood on end. He looked over at Sam and knew they were on the same page. His mind immediately jumped to the man in the picture who’d been loading something in an oversize backpack. This time it was Sam who sat forward and finished her drink in one slug.

  “You think you know where I’m going with this, don’t you?” Kyle said.

  “I think so,” King answered.

  “You’re not wrong, but hold on to your hats.”

  King caught some air from the vent above him and realized he was sweating.

  “I told Juice I would do a search on this James Carter, a name which Juice thought was certainly not the guy’s real identity. And I told him I would try to find the red Hummer that supposedly had the dangerous cargo in it, and I’d get back to him.”

  “So you found him?” Sam said.

  Kyle ignored her question and went on to finish his story. “When I got off the phone with Juice, Dbie had just come running into the room. After an hour of running facial recognition, she finally got a hit on the mystery man in your photos.”

  “I hate to steal your punch line, Kyle,” Sam said, “but let me guess. The software brought back the name James Carter.”

  “Bingo, you got it. But, Sam, you didn’t steal my punch line.”

  “No? All right then, Stephen King, wow us with your ending.”

  “No problem. The software brought back the identity of James Carter. It was also a direct hit for two more names.”

  “Ah yes, a man with many aliases,” Sam said. “I’m assuming there’s one we would know.”

  Kyle laughed. “Yeah. Does the name Sergio Martinez ring a bell?”

  The three of them looked at each other, but King let Sam answer since she’d been doing the talking.

  “No, Kyle. Not in the slightest.”

  “Hmm. Well, what about the name Thomas Bishop?”

  It was as if all the air had been sucked out of the cabin. Sam’s jaw dropped, King felt his do the same, and the only reason Omari wasn’t making a similar dumbfounded face was because he had no idea that Thomas Bishop was Sam’s ex-husband. Sam’s dead ex-husband.

  “Yep,” Kyle said. “Now that was my punch line. And I can’t see you, but I’m pretty sure your current reaction was the same as mine when Dbie told me. Guess you aren’t the only one who knows how to fake his own death, Xander. Hey, maybe he got the idea from you.”

  “I’ll be in the restroom,” Omari said as he stood and walked to the back of the plane.

  “Kyle,” King said, “you and Dbie have outdone yourselves. But I’m gonna have to call you back.”

  King hung up the phone and sat back in his seat. He was trying to give Sam a minute to digest everything. The hum of the engine was steady, and King’s heart rate was finally returning to that same level. After a minute he turned in his seat to face Sam.

  “You okay?”

  Sam remained quiet. Her legs were crossed and her arms folded tightly across her chest.

  “’Cause it’s okay if you’re not.”

  Sam finally moved. She reached up to the top of her head, pulled off her hair tie, and let her hair fall down. She ran her fingers through it a few times, then turned toward King.

  “I told you so.”

  Of all the things he thought might come out of Sam’s mouth, that wasn’t one of them. A wide smile grew across his face. He should have known it would take a lot more than her ex faking his own death to rattle that tough, steel-minded woman. Sam let her smile match his.

  “I love you, Sam. Honestly. I’ve never met anyone stronger than you.”

  “Well, don’t judge me based on this. In the grand scheme of what you and I have been through together, as they would say where you come from, ‘This ain’t shit.’”

  They both had a much-needed laugh. Omari returned from the restroom.

  “Oh good, Omari said when he noticed them laughing. “I was afraid things were going to get awkward.”

  Then he laughed with them too. After a couple of minutes, reality began to set in, and King said what had to be said.

  “Well . . . what now?”

  24

  After the shock of all that Kyle had to say wore off, King and Sam had to put their heads together on what exactly were the best steps forward. They needed to determine why Marcus Christian had targeted them. They had to decide what, if anything, they could do about Thomas Bishop and the possible danger he posed with whatever he’d smuggled into Mexico City. And finally, they needed to know who really left the photo in the safety deposit box for Sam at Barclays Bank. However, before they could really get started on any of those things, they had to clear themselves enough to gain entry into the United States without being arrested and wasting precious time that might cost other people their lives.

  King came back to his seat on the plane after freshening up in the restroom. The three of them had taken the time to eat a bit while they mulled over their options. But
in King’s mind there was really only one place to start.

  “I suppose we don’t have a choice but to call Director Lucas, right?”

  “Already did while you were in the loo,” Sam said. “I knew you wouldn’t want to talk to him.”

  “Thanks, Sam. You were right. How’d it go?”

  “He’s going to smooth things over with the UK and Monaco once he gets all of our evidence from Dbie. He said if we go after the smuggled weapons, he’ll call it even.”

  “Done. Now we know where we’re going at least. But I’d be lying if I wasn’t apprehensive about flying back into Mexico City after being suspect numero uno there not long ago.”

  “PTSD?” Omari said.

  “You have no idea.”

  “Let’s start by calling Kyle and getting an update,” Sam said. “Then we can decide where to fly into exactly, and also talk about how he and Dbie might help us find out about who the hell left us that photo in London as well as the flash drive with my honeymoon pictures on it in Monte Carlo.”

  “Any ideas?” King said. “I mean, it couldn’t have been Thomas, right? But who would want to tip you to what he’s up to, and why the hell would they do it like they did? With all the pomp and circumstance of going to Monte Carlo. Why not just leave photos of Thomas loading whatever he was loading in those backpacks in the deposit box and save everyone the trouble.”

  “I have no idea,” Sam said. “But I know the only real place to get any sort of leads is the banker who approached us about the safety deposit box in the first place. He’s the only one who has had actual interactions of some sort with whoever started this entire thing.”

  King perked up like a lightbulb had come on. “Remember after we walked out of the safety deposit room and went to find him? When he walked us back into his office?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Remember when I threatened him by making a gesture toward the picture of his kids?”

  “Yes,” Sam said.

  “There was another picture in the office, of his wife. But there wasn’t a picture of him in there anywhere at all.”

  “You saying it wasn’t his office?”

  “I’m saying that I don’t know that it was for sure.”

  “Well, it doesn’t make any sense, really. Someone posing as a banker wouldn’t have access to safety deposit box keys, and the security guard would never have let him pass so easily. It’s more likely we had it pegged to begin with, that he was paid off, much more than that five grand in his pocket, and he probably knew way more than he was letting on.”

  “You’re right. I’m just trying to make some things fit.”

  “I understand,” Sam said. “I’m texting Dbie to go ahead and also try to track down the banker, or fake banker. She is sure earning her money today. It is late there, though, so probably won’t turn up much tonight.”

  “We’ve forgotten something in all of this,” King said. “What about the supposed list of double agents Ortega was called about?”

  “I asked Director Lucas about that again, and he said when he asked around, there was no reason to believe this was a credible threat. Is there any way this was meant as a diversion?”

  “I don’t know,” King said. “I mean, do we really trust anything Raúl Ortega says?”

  “No.”

  Omari cleared his throat. “You guys are working through an awful lot there. Just from the outside looking in, maybe just focus on what you can control?”

  “That’s the problem, Omari,” Sam said. “We don’t have anything concrete on any of the things we’re talking about.”

  “Except you know Marcus Christian was trying to kill you. And you know your ex is posing as someone else while he smuggles potentially dangerous things for no known reason. I’m not trying to butt in, but . . .”

  “No, go ahead,” King said.

  “If it were me, I’d either track down Marcus Christian or head south of the border and find Sam’s ex. Maybe since your ex is posing as this James guy, and was on the plane with weapons being sold by Marcus Christian, you’ll kill two birds with one stone if you catch him. But hey, what the hell do I know?”

  “He’s right,” Sam said. “We find one, we learn about the other.” Sam turned and shouted toward the cockpit. “Bob, how far are we from the States?”

  “Only about an hour from the East Coast now.”

  “That solves that,” King said. “We’re too far from Europe to go Marcus hunting. Let’s find your ex and start putting some pieces together.”

  “Works for me,” Sam said. “But he’s mine when we find him.”

  “Oh, there’s nothing I’d want to see more.”

  “Y’all want to go into Mexico City or across the border into my state?” Omari said. “’Cause they are nowhere near each other. If he’s smuggling in some super illegal shit, he’s probably going to bring it into America anyway. Might already be there if he’s flying by plane or even helicopter. But Mexico City is a good twelve hours from Texas by car.”

  “Anything that makes more sense than flying into Mexico City I’m game for,” King said.

  “You know the closest border town off the top of your head?” Sam asked.

  “The entire southern region is a border town for smugglers. Honestly it’s bad everywhere, so if your guy is trying to cross the border, it could be anywhere. But Tamaulipas is where a lot of conflict between the Sinaloa Cartel and the Gulf Cartel goes down. They fight there because the best smuggling routes are there. It’s only a couple of hours from the border, so that might make sense. My brother-in-law used to be with the border patrol, so we would swap stories. He’s seen things as bad as I have, and I’ve been all over the Middle East.”

  “I guess that’s where we should start to head toward,” King said. “At least until Dbie can hopefully get an update on the Hummer or any other info as to where Thomas might be headed. Maybe to a helicopter, like you said.”

  “I think there’s an airport near Edinburg, Texas. That would put you due north of Tamaulipas. If that’s what you want.”

  “Let’s head there then. We don’t know anything but a general direction at this point. So that works for now. What do you think, Sam?”

  “I think it feels nice to have a direction. Hopefully we can zero in by the time we land. I’ll tell Bob. You guys get some rest. I believe this will be your last chance for a while.”

  Sam got up, but King took her by the wrist before she could head to the cockpit. “Wait a second. We can’t figure out what the hell is the deal with this supposed double agent list, right?”

  “Right.”

  “And you said Ortega just offered up this information, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Ortega knows all the smuggling routes into south Texas, don’t you think? He’s the number one runner in that region.”

  “I see what you’re thinking, and yes he is. You think Thomas and Ortega have been working together on this from the beginning.”

  “I think Thomas maneuvered Ortega to throw us off the scent of anything going on in Mexico. Thomas wanted us pointed in the direction of these supposed double agents in case any word came down the line about an illegal shipment.”

  “Ortega is Thomas’s passageway into the US with whatever he is smuggling, and also Thomas’s smokescreen if anything gets leaked.”

  “We’ve got to get the CIA on top of air traffic control,” King said. “If there’s a plane, a helicopter, or anything else linked to Raúl Ortega in the air, we need to know about it.”

  “Because it will be Thomas,” Sam said, finishing King’s thought.

  “I’ll call Kyle,” King said. “We can find some other time to sleep.”

  25

  Mexico City, Mexico

  “We found the Hummer,” Kyle said.

  Juice nearly jumped out of his seat. He and his men had stopped at a hotel on the outskirts of downtown Mexico City and had spent the last few hours awaiting instructions on where to go; it also give JJ a
place to rest peacefully until they could come back for his body. It had brought the entire crew down. But this news from Kyle was the lift they needed. Especially since night had fallen and they were beginning to think they’d lost James—and whatever he had with him—for good.

  “Hit me with the coordinates and we’ll be all over them.”

  “It’s abandoned now,” Kyle said.

  Just as fast as his spirits came up, they fell right back down.

  “But Dbie found a parking lot camera. They thought they’d pulled deep enough into the alley, but Dbie was able to brighten the footage. They swapped it out for a light-colored minivan. It was too dark to catch the exact color or the license plate.”

  “Great job. We’re in our Jeep ready to roll. You have a direction?”

  “She followed them on a few cameras. They were headed north, but they turned off not too long ago. Dbie did some searching, and the border is more than twelve hours from Mexico City.”

  “Yeah, they must be catching a ride in the air. If they get off the ground before we can get to them, we aren’t going to be of any help.”

  “Head north, and drive fast. We’ll figure out where they’re going, but Xander is calling, so let me get right back to you.”

  “Copy,” Juice said as he ended the call. Charlie was behind the wheel. “We’re on the right track. Just step on it, and find an on-ramp to the highway. Hopefully Kyle will have a location for us before it’s too—”

  The vehicle smashing into them from a side street stole Juice’s ability to finish his sentence. It also knocked the Jeep on its side, causing it to skid along the road until it hit the curb and did a full barrel roll in the air. When it finally came back down, it crashed with a symphony of twisted metal and shrieking fiberglass. The Jeep landed on its side with the undercarriage facing the direction of the vehicle that had hit them. Juice had his seat belt off and his M4 in hand before the Jeep even stopped sliding.

  Juice jumped over Charlie in the driver’s seat, all the way to the ground, and turned to face the direction of the vehicle.