JET - Ops Files (20 page)

“Trust me. There are easier clients. You don’t want that one.”

When the discussion broke up, Natasha nodded to Maya as they returned to the bungalow. Once back in her room, Maya activated the micro radio and waited. When Natasha’s voice came over the earpiece, it was hardly more than a whisper.

“I’m going to give everyone two hours to get to sleep. I’ve been timing the guards – they pass by the rear of the building every thirty minutes.”

“And then what?”

“There are a number of places that are likely spots. You saw the satellite imagery. I’m going to slip out and see what I can learn. With the patrols I wouldn’t imagine that there would be any need to have it heavily guarded, but I’m not going to assume anything. With any luck I’ll be able to find it, and then it’s only a matter of destroying it.”

“How do you plan to do that?”

“Depends on what we’re looking at. If there are guards, we can do it tomorrow night when the party’s in full roar and we’re unlikely to be missed.”

“There’s a small army out there. Sounds pretty iffy, Natasha.”

“I know. But it’s not like we have a lot of options,” she admitted.

“What do you want me to do?” Maya asked.

“Stay inside. I’ll give you a full report when I return.”

“Natasha, come on. I’m here. I want to be useful.”

Natasha was silent for a few seconds. “Fine. I’ll leave the satellite transmitter by your back window when I duck out. We can sync our watches so we aren’t discovered by the guards, and then you can go set it up by the junction terminal outside the wall on this side of the compound. Do you remember the layout?”

“Of course. It’s near the pumping station.”

“The unit’s triggered by a remote, but it needs to have a clear line of sight to the sky. Find somewhere you can put it where it won’t get washed away if it rains, and where it won’t be discovered.”

“That’s it? That’s all you want me to do?” Maya said, trying not to let the disappointment come through.

Natasha’s voice hardened. “Maya, just do as I say. There’ll be plenty of chances for you to earn your keep once we know where the agent’s stored. But for now you can’t take any risks that would alert them to our mission, and if you’re gone more than a few minutes, we’ve doubled the odds of discovery. Do you understand? We can’t afford that.”

As much as she hated to, Maya had to acknowledge that Natasha was right. “Will you stay in radio contact?”

“No. If something goes wrong and I have a radio, they’ll want to know who’s on the other end. I’m going to leave it in the bushes at the base of the cistern that feeds the bungalows and retrieve it when I return.”

Maya sighed. “All right.”

“Be ready to move when I contact you again.”

The radio went dead, and Maya removed the earpiece and slipped the unit under her pillow. Once again she was being relegated to the easy part, but saw no way to get more involved without disobeying Natasha’s orders. She completely understood why a more seasoned operative would want her out of the mission to the extent possible. But it still felt like she was being marginalized, and she had a lot riding on finding the agent before Nahir arrived and decided to get his money’s worth out of her. Maya was being paid a fortune for the week, and she had no doubt that her turn at bat would come sooner rather than later.

She just hoped she could restrain herself from killing the arms merchant when he sent for her. Although a dead miscreant wouldn’t break any hearts, it also wouldn’t lead them to the agent, which was the priority. No, she’d have to choke back the painful childhood memories and numb herself to whatever she was required to do, taking Natasha’s advice and compartmentalizing it. Just as she would have to lock away the memory of the executions that went with the job – although she felt no remorse for any she’d killed so far, including the men at the mosque…or her foster father, who had been beneath contempt, much less mercy.

When Natasha radioed at midnight, Maya was ready to go. She’d slipped into a pair of lightweight black cargo pants and a long sleeved black T-shirt and tied her hair back in a ponytail.

“The guard just went by. I’ll be outside in a minute,” Natasha said.

Maya moved to the rear window and eased it open, having removed the screen and stowed it in the closet earlier. She waited until she saw Natasha’s face in the faint moonlight and crawled out, dropping to the soft ground with a muffled thud. Natasha wordlessly handed her the small satellite transmitter and then spun and moved behind a row of hedges and disappeared from view.

After two minutes of remaining motionless, ears straining for the slightest sound, Maya edged to the nearby path and followed it along the landscaping until she spotted the perimeter wall. She studied it, noting the concrete support posts every six meters, and after slipping the transmitter into a side pocket, ran toward it. She hit the post a meter above the ground with her right foot, her athletic shoes gripping the rough mortar, and pushed hard left, driving her body higher. Her fingers latched onto the top of the three-meter-high wall, and she pulled herself up and over, landing on the ground in a crouch.

By her reckoning, the concrete junction box would be twenty-five meters from the wall. It took Maya fifteen minutes to find it, and when she did, she scaled the two-and-a-half-meter structure and placed the transmitter on the top, ringing it with small rocks she’d gathered for that purpose so it wouldn’t be blown off by strong winds. Because of the height of the roof lip, the unit was out of view, and because there were no nearby paths, Maya felt confident it wouldn’t be spotted.

She checked her watch and saw that she had nine minutes before the patrol came by the bungalow again. Plenty of time, she thought as she made her way back to the wall. She was over it in seconds and took catlike steps back to her darkened room, eyes roaming the area in case the guards weren’t precise in their timing.

Maya climbed through the window and pulled it closed behind her, exhaling a sigh of relief as she pulled the curtain closed. She barely registered movement behind her, and then strong arms locked onto her, pinning her in place. Sour sweat and alcohol assailed Maya as her assailant growled in her ear.

“You bad girl. Sneak out. Very bad.”

It had to be the guard who’d grabbed her ass earlier.

“What do you want?”

“What you think?”

“I’ll report you,” she said, struggling against him. She could feel the press of his excitement against her back as he held her tight.

“No, you won’t.”

Maya drove her left foot backward into the guard’s knee, dislocating the patella, which she knew would cause immediate, excruciating pain. He gasped in shock and loosened his grip, buying her just enough space to ram her elbow into his ribs. She heard a sharp crack, and he groaned, the wind knocked out of him. He released her as he bent over, fighting to remain standing on his good leg, and she pivoted and slammed her knee into his head, snapping it back. He was buckling as she grabbed both sides of his skull and twisted with all her might. He dropped to the floor, his body twitching, his spine broken at the C-2 vertebra.

Twenty minutes later she heaved the guard’s inert form through the window and followed it out. She dragged the body by its feet so she wouldn’t leave furrows in the damp ground and hid his corpse in a thicket of bamboo near the wall, where hopefully it wouldn’t be found until she’d finished her assignment.

Back in her room, she eyed the flattened plants beneath the window as she pulled the frame shut and prayed that by morning the grass would have recovered sufficiently to withstand scrutiny. Maya carefully scrubbed any trace of the guard off the floor with a damp towel before hosing down in the shower and then returned to her bed, where she spent the rest of the sleepless night waiting for Natasha to check in.

Chapter 31

Dawn arrived with a cloudburst, the heavy rain pounding on the roof like an avalanche of stones. Maya thanked Providence for the small favor – after a heavy downpour the grass outside the window would no longer be an issue, should anyone happen to look.

Which did little to quiet her racing thoughts. Natasha hadn’t contacted her, and as the morning light filtered through the window, Maya tried hailing her on the radio, with no success.

Maya eventually drifted off, her body’s need for sleep overwhelming the adrenal response her prolonged state of anxiety had triggered. When she awoke to a banging on her door, it was 11:00, and the rain had stopped.

She quickly pulled on an oversized T-shirt and called out, “Who is it?”

“Open the door,” a gruff male voice said.

“Why? Who’s there?”

“Security. Open the door, now.”

Maya slipped the bolt aside and pulled the door open. Three guards entered, their sidearms prominent. The eldest of the group looked her up and down and barked an order to his men.

“Search it.”

Maya watched one of the guards go to her bag and rifle through it while the other dropped to the floor and looked under the bed before rising and marching into the bathroom.

“What’s going on? Why are you doing this?” she asked the remaining guard, watching as the one by the closet ransacked her belongings.

“One of our men went missing last night.”

“And? What, you think I packed him in my carry-on or have him in the bathtub?”

The guard did his best to remain impassive, but she could sense his eyes devouring her when she pushed past him to look out the door, her caramel thighs barely covered by the bottom of the T-shirt. Outside, the sun was baking the standing water away from where it had collected in low spots along the walkway. Up by the villa she could see a few of the girls at the pool, giggling professionally, thongs on display as they paraded their wares.

The search didn’t take long. When they were done, the lead guard mumbled a halfhearted apology before moving to the next door and pounding on it. Maya went back inside, locked the bolt, and took a shower, and then donned her swimsuit and strolled to the pool, her sheer cover-up doing very little for her modesty. A steward came over when she sat under one of the umbrellas and smiled at her with raised eyebrows, and she ordered a light breakfast with a pot of black coffee. Courtney padded to the table and sat down uninvited, her piercing blue eyes squinting in the bright sun.

“Did you hear?” Courtney asked in a hushed voice.

“About the guard? Yeah. They just finished searching my room.”

Courtney glanced at the bungalows, clearly confused. “Guard? No, I meant about Natasha.”

Maya struggled to keep her voice even. “Who? Oh, the Russian girl. No, what about her?”

“She left last night.”

“What do you mean, left? She just got here.”

“She has the room next to mine, and the Gestapo showed up at about six this morning and took all her stuff.”

“Maybe she got kicked out for something.”

“I don’t think so. I asked one of the guards, and he said that she’d left, like that was the end of it. But it was like he was totally uncomfortable with me asking.” Courtney paused, looking around conspiratorially. “And if she left, why didn’t she take her stuff herself?” Courtney was from Los Angeles, an aspiring starlet who’d taken a wrong turn, and while not the smartest, had developed the sixth sense for scams and predators that was mandatory for survival there. “It’s creeping me out. I read an article about how some girls just go missing when they’re on these gigs, but I’ve never known one until now.”

“Have you done a lot of them?”

Courtney waved a perfectly manicured hand. “Oh, you know. For a year or two.”

Maya didn’t press for details. “What do you think happened?”

Courtney acted as though she hadn’t heard the question. “Have they returned your passport yet?”

“No. Why?”

“How could she have left without her passport? Aren’t you getting weirded out by this? Something’s messed up.”

The steward brought a platter of food and a pot of coffee, and Maya offered Courtney some. She shook her head. Maya took a bite of freshly cut fruit and studied Courtney’s profile.

“You think they might have hurt her or something? That makes no sense. Carla’s here, and they’d have to explain it to her…” Maya said.

“I don’t know. But it’s kind of scary. They’ve got our passports, so we can’t leave, and they’re like…like this is their own private kingdom or something. What would happen if we all disappeared?”

“Courtney, come on. People know we’re here, right? And why would they want to do something like that? Has the birthday boy even shown up yet?”

“Not that I know of.” She shrugged. “I just wanted to warn you. Don’t piss anyone off.”

Maya nodded. “Thanks for the tip. I wasn’t planning on it.”

“We need to stick together, you know?” Courtney hesitated. “I guess I’m just a little freaked. My imagination runs away with me sometimes. I need a frigging drink.” She waved at the bartender, and the steward approached.

“Madame?”

“Can I get a Bloody Mary?” she asked.

“Certainly.”

“With Gray Goose, okay? A double.”

“Right away. And you?” the man asked Maya.

“Oh, no, I’m good with the coffee right now. Maybe later,” Maya said, her thoughts elsewhere. Natasha must have been apprehended, which was a disaster. Even if she had a plausible story for being off the grounds in the dead of night, she would be interrogated, and once the guard’s absence had been noted…Maya didn’t want to think about what Natasha must be going through. Or how long she could hold out before admitting that she had a partner.

All of which assumed she was still alive.

The steward reappeared with Courtney’s cocktail and set it down in front of her with a flourish. Courtney raised the glass in toast to Maya and drained a third before returning it to the coaster. Maya wondered whether Natasha might have had something like a fake tooth with cyanide in it, and then reasoned that the likelihood was small – after all, nobody had offered one to Maya.

“Wow. That guy’s got a serious pour. That’s exactly what the doctor ordered,” Courtney said, smiling crookedly. Maya could see that there was more going on than quieting of nerves with a drink. Courtney clearly had substance issues, but that went with the profession, and it wasn’t Maya’s problem. No, her only imperative was to locate the nerve agent, if that was even still possible, and if not, to stay alive long enough to make it off the island.