Targets of Revenge

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Targets of Revenge Page 32

by Jeffrey Stephens


  “How?”

  “They were in the middle of their discussion when one of Mateo’s bodyguards got a call. Mateo did not want to be interrupted, but the man said it was urgent. That’s when he learned the three prisoners had gotten free and taken out one of the guards.”

  “Mateo repeated that to Adina?” Sandor asked.

  “No, he says he didn’t. He’d already told him about the two Americans coming to Reynosa, bragged about having them locked up. After the call he did his best to say everything was fine, but he could see that Adina guessed otherwise. Mateo says he gave every assurance that the delivery was on track, then hightailed it back to his place. We know what he found when he got there.”

  “Where was Adina going?”

  “Mateo doesn’t know. He had come to Mendez by private plane, so he could be heading anywhere.”

  “At the time of the Adina and Mateo meeting, what was the status of the shipment?” Sandor asked.

  “Mateo says it was on a truck headed to Matamoros for placement in a container. The federales already have a detachment trying to hunt it down, but it’s probably too late now. They move goods all over the map, switching trucks, then hiding in warehouses and garages and barns. And then there’s the problem with the Mexican authorities. We have no jurisdiction, so they won’t let us join the hunt. I don’t have to tell you about the level of cooperation we get down here. I’m thrilled they’re letting us do the interrogation.”

  “Based on Mateo’s demand.”

  “True. He’s looking for a deal from the U.S., not the Mexicans.”

  “Stay on top of it,” Byrnes said. “We’re not just dealing with narcotics here, Scovell.”

  “We’re clear about that sir. Problem is, this is way above my pay grade.” Scovell hesitated. “I got word from my boss, Dan LaBelle, to give your agency my full cooperation. I was also told not to report anything up the line here at DEA until I hear back from him. I’m a bit uncomfortable with that, to say the least, but I trust LaBelle and I’m running with it. But when it comes to making deals with a guy like Mateo on behalf of the United States government—”

  “I understand,” Byrnes interrupted. “You just tell him that you’re getting authority from your superiors. Meanwhile, keep him talking.”

  “Yes sir. I’ll get back to you as soon as I have more.”

  After the DD shut down the video link, LaBelle and Raabe stood and joined them back at the table.

  “Jake’s a good man. I hate to put him in a bind like this.”

  “He’s not in a bind,” Byrnes said. “He’s helping us work out of one.”

  LaBelle nodded. “I guess that’s right.”

  The DD turned to Sandor. “You’ve got something to say. It’s written all over your face.”

  “Well, for starters, I wouldn’t count on the Mexicans to locate the goods. They wouldn’t tell you if the container was sitting in their parking lot.”

  “They’re not as bad as that.”

  “No? Ask LaBelle here. Anyway, that’s not the issue. They’re not going to catch up with the shipment, that’s going to be our job, and the way to do that is through Adina.”

  Byrnes sat back and waited.

  “He never goes anywhere close to the action unless he has a trapdoor to jump through. Look at St. Barths. He was there when he engineered the attack on Fort Oscar and the downing of that airplane, but he was on a yacht and safely out to sea by the time the shooting started. Knowing the hunt is on for this shipment, why would he go to Mexico, less than an hour from where the drugs are being loaded for transport?”

  “Maybe he didn’t know we’re getting close,” Raabe suggested. “At least not until he met with Mateo and found out Jim and I were in Reynosa.”

  Byrnes agreed. “The money he received, if this Mateo is telling the truth, was a pretty strong incentive. We know he’s become increasingly unpopular in Caracas. He might have needed the cash to fund his scheme. It may be as simple as that.”

  Sandor shook his head. “If it was about picking up money he could have made other arrangements.”

  “That may be true,” Byrnes conceded. “So why do you think he would have taken the risk? There had to be a reason for him to go there.”

  Sandor looked around the table, then fixed his gaze on LaBelle. “According to Mateo, Adina came in on a private plane, flew into Mendez, which is within striking distance of both Reynosa and Matamoros, the two towns most likely to be involved in the transport of these goods. That’s no accident. Then factor into the equation that Rafael Cabello is a meticulous planner who leaves nothing to chance.”

  “So?” LaBelle asked.

  “So, I think he went there to pick up his anthrax and take it into the States himself.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE

  MENDEZ, MEXICO

  MATEO WAS NOT wrong. Neither was Sandor.

  Mateo told the interrogators that Adina suspected there were problems when he witnessed Mateo’s reaction to the phone call that interrupted their meeting. When Mateo refused to even admit there was trouble, it only made things worse.

  Adina had traveled to Mexico to pick up the first installment of the money he was due for the narcotics. As Sandor guessed, the Venezuelan was also persuaded it was time for him to take control of the anthrax.

  Before arriving in Mendez, Adina had engaged in an encrypted exchange of testy communications with Sudakov. Once Mateo and his men hurried off to deal with whatever had transpired back at the farm, Adina resumed his correspondence with the Russian.

  Adina began by admitting that his shipment contained other materials, having nothing whatever to do with the narcotics. It would be best, he suggested, if he could remove those few parcels and then have the drugs sent on their way.

  Sudakov was livid at the deception. “It is apparent this is the cause for the publicity our party has been generating,” he wrote.

  “Publicity was certainly not my intention,” replied Adina.

  “You should have told me someone else was coming to the party,” Sudakov texted back.

  “My apologies,” Adina replied. “I will have them removed from the table immediately.”

  Now that Sudakov realized the rumors about toxins being included in the cargo were true, he wrote, “I understand this party-crasher is ill. Is there any chance the disease is contagious?”

  “Absolutely not. I am going to oversee the removal myself.”

  After several additional rants, Sudakov signed off. While Mateo had only given a vague description of the location and progress of the goods, Sudakov provided specific information. Unlike the careless Mexican, Sudakov and Adina shared a penchant for precision and an appreciation for detail.

  In less time than it required Mateo to reach his farm, Adina met with the truckers who were carrying the narcotics. They were waiting in a warehouse, not far from shore, where all the goods were to be packed into a huge metal box and taken to sea on a trawler for transfer onto a container ship. The goods were surrounded by sacks of Colombian coffee, designed to frustrate drug-sniffing dogs and to give it the appearance of a legal cargo.

  After the exchange of appropriate code words supplied by Sudakov, Alejandro and Jorge went about the tedious business of opening the casings until they found what they were looking for—the airtight suitcases constructed of hard plastic that were situated deep inside the recesses of the large packages. They still bore the seals that were placed on them in the lab near Barranquitas.

  With the help of the drivers and their armed accomplices, everything was then closed up and the trucks sent on their way.

  Adina and his men took the anthrax and drove through the night, back to the airstrip near Mendez.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR

  WASHINGTON, D.C.

  THE DEPUTY DIRECTOR deployed two teams to tail Joseph Cleary when he left the task force meeting at Langley. The decision was made with some reluctance—it was simply not in Byrnes’s DNA to believe a highly placed agent of the United States
government could really be a traitor. Even after John Covington’s duplicity, not to mention the treachery of Vincent Traiman, the DD preferred to see their betrayal as an aberration, not a commonplace risk. But Dan LaBelle had been adamant in his assertion that he told only one person about Bergenn and Raabe meeting with Romero in Reynosa. And that one person was his boss in Washington, Joseph Cleary. Now that Mateo was spilling his guts, they knew he had received a tip that two federal agents were coming to town, and that they were there to meet Pacquito, who was actually an undercover operative for the DEA by the name of Felipe Romero.

  That was the only reason the DD went along with Sandor’s plan to deceive members of the task force—it was clear that someone inside the DEA was working with the Sinaloa Cartel.

  Byrnes had told three lies in that meeting. The first concerned the cooperation of Mateo. He assured Cleary that he would be getting a report, but Byrnes arranged to cut him out of the loop until this was resolved. That maneuver took the intervention of Peter Forelli, the only one in the group who knew what Byrnes was up to.

  The second lie was the claim that both Bergenn and Raabe had died during their attempted escape. As long as Cleary thought the two CIA agents and Romero were all gone, he should have no concern that any of them had the chance to pass along any intel. That left only Mateo for him to deal with.

  The third, and most critical fabrication, was that Baltimore had been abandoned as the likely port of entry for the shipment, and a decision had been made to focus on Newark.

  That set of facts was intended to force Cleary’s hand, along with the question posed by Sandor. He asked the gathering how things could have gone so badly for Bergenn, Raabe and Romero so quickly in Mexico if no one outside their inner circle knew of the mission. Cleary, being the representative from DEA, was forced to reply, making a vague reference to the regular chain of bureaucratic reporting, obviously covering himself for the moment when LaBelle was compelled to reveal that he had told his boss the three men were meeting.

  Now that their web had been spun, Byrnes had several concerns.

  What if Cleary had been telling the truth? What if LaBelle was really Jaime Rivera? The DD could not ignore the fact that LaBelle had chosen to meet with Bergenn and Raabe outside his office. That he did not read in anyone else from his own staff about the contact about to be made with a field agent who had been risking his life undercover for two years. Or that Felipe Romero reported only to him.

  The DD did not have the history with LaBelle that Sandor shared, and he told his agent not to count on that relationship if the answers they got were not what he expected.

  ————

  The two teams dispatched by Byrnes from the National Clandestine Service had no trouble following Cleary. They were all experienced agents. The NCS was the section of the CIA to which Sandor was assigned although, as the DD was so fond of pointing out, it often seemed that Sandor roamed Langley as if he were in a department of his own.

  Both teams used their own cars, not the so-called unmarked vehicles so easily spotted in Washington. There were two men in each vehicle, operatives well practiced in shadowing a moving target. The drivers knew how to fall back when they got too close, allowing the other team to take the lead. The agents in the passenger seats were operating electronic eavesdropping equipment that would pick up any phone calls made or discussions the subject might have in a face-to-face meeting.

  Cleary was driving his own sedan. He was alone, but he made no phone calls. Only twice did he do anything resembling evasive action as he proceeded along the roads back to the capital, but it soon became apparent he was not heading toward his office. Instead he proceeded to a public garage adjacent to the shops at Crystal City. He parked, then made his way on foot to another car, an unoccupied black sedan, a couple of dozen spaces away.

  The two surveillance vehicles veered off in different directions, then circled back to positions within the range of their audiovisual monitoring devices.

  Cleary had a key to the other car. The four agents watched as he entered on the driver’s side, then sat there and waited. Perhaps someone would be meeting him, perhaps he wanted to gauge any activity in the area. Meanwhile, they called in the license plate of the black car and had it traced to a shell company in Virginia.

  After ten minutes Cleary removed a telephone from the glove box and powered it up. It was a disposable cell with international capability. He then made three calls.

  ————

  Byrnes was waiting with Sandor when LaBelle was led back into his office, this time flanked by two agents from the Directorate of Intelligence, or DI.

  LaBelle wore an unhappy look.

  “What have you got?” Byrnes asked.

  The DEA agent took a seat, but the duo from DI remained standing. The senior man began his report.

  “The subject left Langley but did not return to his office.”

  “I assume,” Byrnes interrupted, “the subject you’re referring to is Joseph Cleary, Assistant Administrator of the DEA?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Proceed.”

  “He was alone,” the man from DI continued, then gave details of the surveillance by the four agents from DCS.

  “Tell me about the phone calls,” Byrnes said.

  “The calls were made from a disposable phone that had been fitted with an encryption program. Our software cut through it.”

  “Well done, I’m sure. Now, the calls?”

  “Yes sir. The first was to a cell phone in Mexico. We fixed the location just outside Monterrey. The second was to a mobile number in Egypt, somewhere offshore, on the Red Sea. The third call was placed to a landline in the Cayman Islands. The private number of an executive in a bank there.” The man looked up. “Do you want me to read each of the transcripts, sir?”

  “We can read those ourselves,” Byrnes told him. “Summarize them please.”

  “Well sir, the first two conversations were somewhat oblique, but we believe we have a clear read on the substance. In the first, the subject conveyed a warning that someone being held in custody in Monterrey is posing a serious danger. The subject directed that the threat be neutralized. Then the subject addressed a second problem.” The man from DI shot a quick look at LaBelle. “He wanted Agent LaBelle found and removed.”

  Byrnes glanced over at the DEA agent. He understood why LaBelle looked as if he had just heard of a death in the family. “Did he say why?”

  “In effect, he said that LaBelle was the only surviving connection between the subject and the incidents in Reynosa.”

  “Anything else on that call?”

  “No sir.”

  “Go on.”

  “The second call was quite brief and had to do with a possible change of destinations. They appeared to be discussing a delivery. The subject advised that the attention being paid to the primary drop-off point had now shifted to a second location, so their original plans should not be altered.”

  “Nothing about the shipment containing toxins?”

  “At the very end, the subject asked something vague about that, but the man to whom he was speaking said the issue was under control.”

  “That was all they said on that subject?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Just to be clear,” Sandor jumped in, “when he answered the question he did not deny there were toxins in the shipment?”

  “No, all he said was”—and now the agent thumbed through his copy of the transcript—“the matter is ‘under control,’ ” he quoted.

  Byrnes nodded. “And the third call?”

  “The subject was making financial arrangements. It’s all in the transcript there. At the conclusion of the discussion he said that he would be seeing this banker soon.”

  Byrnes rubbed his face with both hands, then said, “I don’t suppose there’s anything else in those transcripts about a planned attack.”

  “No sir, I certainly would have pointed that out.”

  Byrnes nodded.
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  “After the third call the subject left the vehicle, got back into his car, and headed home. The teams from NCS want further instructions.”

  “Of course,” the DD said. “First I’d like you to take Agent LaBelle down the hall. Make him comfortable while we sort out a few things.” He turned to LaBelle. “I’m truly sorry about this. I’m going to call Bebon at the FBI. I’ll tell him we have a credible report that your life has been threatened and that we need a protection detail. I saw in your dossier you have a wife and children.”

  “I do.”

  “We’re going to attend to that right now.” He stood and so did Sandor and LaBelle. “I’ll be back to you in a few minutes,” he told the man from DEA. After the agents from DI led LaBelle out of the room, Byrnes went to his desk and picked up the phone. He was patched in to both surveillance teams and asked for status. When he was told that Cleary was in his house, Byrnes said, “Do not let him out of your sight. If he makes a move, report in immediately. Be prepared to take him into custody.”

  Then he called Bebon at the FBI.

  ————

  What began as an unauthorized mission to assassinate Rafael Cabello had since grown into an international, multi-agency initiative to prevent a terrorist attack. When Sandor discovered anthrax was being manufactured at Adina’s Venezuelan compound there was no clear indication of how, when or where the toxins might be used. The CIA had enlisted the resources of several federal departments, from DHS to the Coast Guard, and there was still only the sketchiest evidence even confirming the existence of the plot.

  Until now.

  Sandor and Byrnes were seated at the small conference table in the DD’s office debating the importance of Cleary’s phone call to Egypt.

  “That had to be Sudakov he was speaking with, just look at this transcript, it’s obvious. And Sudakov confirmed there were toxins in the shipment. You know I’m right sir.”

  “I believe you’re right, Sandor. There’s a difference.”

  “Not in terms of what we need to do.”

  “If you’re wrong—if we’re wrong—this is going to be one hellacious black eye for the Agency.”

 

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