Blood of the Assassin

CHAPTER 19





Five hours later, Cruz had gotten the itinerary and all the detail on the signing ceremony, and had forwarded it to El Rey at a blind account CISEN had created for his use. Thirty minutes later, Cruz’s phone chirped at him.

“I got it. I want to head over to look over the physical location. I know it well – if you recall, it was the site of my red herring bomb gambit,” El Rey said.

“Yes, I remember. Then you’re already familiar with the possible approaches.”

“Never assume anything. Things change, and there might be different avenues that he could exploit. I won’t know until I spend some time there. Probably today until it gets dark, then all of tomorrow.”

“What time are you going to be there?”

“I’m headed out right now. I’m notifying you as a courtesy, in the spirit of cooperation with CISEN. Frankly, you’ll be unlikely to spot anything I wouldn’t, so it’s purely a formality.”

“I still want to come. I’ll meet you at the main entrance in...forty minutes.”

“Don’t bring an entourage, and for God’s sake don’t wear your uniform – it’s a dead giveaway. For all we know he’s already here, watching every move at the facility. I would be.”

“Just you and I, then.”

The assassin grumbled, obviously annoyed, then acquiesced. “If you say so.”

Cruz dropped the phone back into his shirt pocket and re-entered the meeting he’d ducked out of and excused himself before going back to his office to change to civilian clothes. He’d brought a light duffle with pants and several shirts in case he needed to go incognito. He hurriedly changed, pulled his black windbreaker over his shoulder holster, and then moved to the bathroom to check his appearance before leaving. He hadn’t slept well, and the hangover from the cheap wine was lingering, and he looked it. Checking his watch, he quickly calculated that his car could have him at the site within twenty minutes.

The ride to the Congress building took longer than he’d expected due to a traffic accident, and he was five minutes late when he sprinted up the steps to the massive array of steel and glass doors. Congress wasn’t in session, so the area only had a few guards loitering around, Federales, but not the best-in-show by any means. Tourists climbed the long flight of wide stairs to have their pictures taken in front of the building, but Cruz didn’t see El Rey anywhere.

When his phone sounded, he nearly jumped. He stabbed it on and held it to his ear. “Where are you?”

“Behind you.”

Cruz slowly turned around, and watched as one of the doors opened and El Rey stepped out, waving at someone inside.

“How did you get in there?” Cruz demanded, sotto voce.

“I offered to help one of the maintenance workers with a box he was struggling with. It doesn’t matter. We can assume that the interior of the building will be swept – but we should still insist that the guards get beefed up, effective immediately, and any maintenance or custodial staff be checked on a daily basis to ensure there are no new employees. I would have the area blocked off from now till the signing, and put draconian security measures in place. It would be child’s play at this point to penetrate the building. Remember what I did at the cathedral. I posed as a maintenance worker at least a week before the event and stashed a grenade. Security never starts early enough, and that’s one weakness we can avoid.”

“A valid point.” Cruz made a quick call and relayed instructions to Briones, who assured him that he would contact the appropriate agencies to coordinate it. When he was finished, he squinted at El Rey.

“What else?”

“From memory, there are literally dozens of vantage points from which a sniper could shoot anyone on a podium on these steps. Over there, there, there, and there. Just to name a few. And the German is a seasoned long-range sniper, so it opens up hundreds of places. Which means you’ll have to widen the security perimeter to at least one kilometer on this side. Maybe more, just to be safe.”

“What? One kilometer? Do you have any idea how many thousands of people live and work in that large an area?”

“Probably a lot. But you can make the job simpler by being selective and only sequestering the buildings where you would have a direct line of sight. It’s still a huge area, but you can simplify your life by having the signing take place inside, and keeping the target off these steps. Then you’d only need to worry about the south side, near those doors, where he would enter the building.”

“Fair enough. I’ll alert the president’s staff.”

El Rey had frozen, transfixed by something, and Cruz followed his stare into the distance.

“The metro station will need to be treated as a risk area. Personally, I would cordon off the entire Congress building grounds effective immediately and make it a high security area until the event is over. The more of the vicinity that’s off-limits, the lower the likelihood of a threat. You’ll also need to be on the alert for everything from contact poison on any surface the Chinese leader comes into contact with, to a gas attack, to an assault on the motorcade. Oh, and a helicopter from the airport to the Congress would be preferable to surface transportation. Otherwise the route is going to be a nightmare. What is it, about two and a half kilometers from the airport? Every inch of which could pose a threat.”

“All of this is threat reduction, not catching him,” Cruz observed, making a note with his Blackberry.

El Rey continued, ignoring the complaint. “The biggest problem with a chopper would be a surface-to-air missile strike, or some kind of sabotage of the craft, like a hidden explosive charge, or hidden damage to the rotors or engine. I know what I’m talking about – let’s just say I speak from experience.”

“You...when...?”

“It’s not important. But have all the maintenance staff checked and rechecked, and have the chopper gone over by explosives experts and mechanics looking for anything suspicious. And have the phone company block all cell phone use in this area until he’s on his plane back home.”

“Are you joking? That will impact millions of people.”

“So will having the Chinese leader shot on Mexican soil. Or did I get that part wrong?”

Cruz took a few steps away from the assassin and stood, pensive, studying the buildings across the highway, each one concealing a potential deadly threat. Even now the German could be watching, undetected, putting the finishing touches on a plan they were powerless to stop unless they had an unprecedented stroke of luck – something that rarely happened, he knew.

“I’ll also want to get a blueprint of the sewer system. I remember the last time I looked at this location that the sewers were a potential point of entry. I briefly considered a gas attack using the sewer system as a red herring, but then opted for the explosive device in the plant your men found.”

“My men didn’t find that – it was the security forces. They aren’t complete incompetents, you know,” Cruz corrected.

“Yeah. I know. Look at how effective they were at stopping me.”

Both men stood studying the area, minds lost on the imponderables involved in averting the crisis.

“You’ve had a chance to look this over. How would you do it?” Cruz asked.

“Every assassin will have his preferred technique. One of my strengths was that I wasn’t married to any particular one. I’d just as soon use a knife as a gun; a bomb as gas or poison. But our man is a shooter. Most of his attributed kills are with a sniper rifle – a shot, usually to the head. There’s probably some ego involved there. He likes the challenge, the difficulty of the impossible shot.”

“Then that’s a weakness we may be able to exploit.”

“Perhaps. But he’s also used an RPG to blow up a car, as well as a pistol, at least twice, and has strangled, stabbed, and used explosives. So while he may prefer a rifle, he’s flexible enough to alter his approach if circumstances dictate it. My hunch is that he’ll try for a rifle shot, though, at first blush. It’s just instinct, but if I was going to bet on it, that would be his method.”

“If you’re right then that would narrow things down, I would think.”

“Yes, to only the buildings within a thousand meters or so. Which as you pointed out is a huge number. I wouldn’t get celebratory quite yet.”

“I know. But it’s better than nothing.”

“True. Right now we have two advantages. First, we know what he’s planning – at least in a large sense. Second, he doesn’t know we know. But you can expect that he will sooner or later – he’ll have contacts either at Interpol or with the German police, and possibly also with the BND. He’ll get word that he’s been flagged, and then the real cat and mouse game will begin.”

Cruz shook his head, fatigue from the prior night slamming into him as the enormity of the job ahead loomed large before him. It was worse than a needle in a haystack or being struck by lightning. At least you could increase your chance of a lightning strike.

“Do you really think we can find him?” Cruz asked softly, as much to himself as to his unlikely new associate.

“I think I can. The question is whether there’s enough time, and whether you can keep your clumsy pack of wolves from worsening your odds. This will require delicacy – looking at the man’s dossier, he’s about as good as it gets.”

Cruz frowned and rubbed his chin, where a light dusting of stubble had already begun forming.

“How about compared to you?” he asked.

The assassin stood silently for several moments, and then strode off, tossing his response over his shoulder.

“Nobody’s that good.”