The Bergamese Sect (41 page)

‘
Yes,’ Sewell said. He cleared his throat. ‘The American? Do you know his name?’

‘
Yes. He’s calling himself David Johnson. His real name’s David Castro.’

‘
Castro?’ There was a thoughtful silence from Sewell. ‘I know this name.’

‘
You do?’

‘
Yes. Radich should take more care in the checks he does. Castro’s an abductee.’

‘
Jesus! Are you sure?’

‘
Absolutely.’

A shuffling noise filled the surveillance van. Then a loud crack shot from the speaker system as a fist thumped onto a desk.

‘
Jesus! This is disastrous,’ the superior bellowed. His voice had become shaky. ‘I don’t believe it.’

‘
We can retrieve the situation,’ Sewell said. ‘We’ll deal with these two. And very soon, my people in Miami will have the information we need. In a few days the renegade will be silenced, as well as the proxy.’

A series of fast, tense breaths filled the air. Then a sigh. ‘You need to remove all traces of this episode.’

‘
Yes.’

‘
And the girl?’

‘
I will deal with her too. She’s served us well. I’ll be sorry to lose her skills.’

‘
There’s no room for sentimentality here, Sewell.’ Jordan’s voice was unemotional.

‘
I know. She will be dealt with, rest assured.’

‘
Good. We can afford no residuals. When this is over, I want to know how an abductee traced his experiences to us.’

‘
I’ll do the investigation myself.’

There was another pause. ‘Very well,’ said Jordan. ‘Close out the renegade situation, quickly. Bury these other guys. Don’t fail me, Sewell.’

‘
I won’t.’

The line went dead and Linsky’s computer beeped. He clicked a few times on his mouse and watched the screen. Then he turned to Walsh who was staring at the floor of the van.

Scenarios were circling Walsh’s mind, unable to find a connection with what he already knew. He had more questions than answers after listening in on the two men. Perhaps it was unreasonable to expect a full explanation, just from a single stolen conversation.

‘
The two men they were talking about,’ Walsh said. ‘They could be crucial in uncovering this conspiracy. We need to find them before Sewell gets his hands on them. Problem is, if we extract them, Sewell will be alerted to our presence and that’ll be the end of the target. Then we will have lost Sebastian.’

‘
If we don’t save them,’ said Linsky, ‘Sewell will have them killed anyway.’

‘
Shit!’ Walsh exclaimed. He brushed his hair back, screwed his face up as if a migraine was tearing his head apart. ‘It’s happening again. Whenever we get close, something stops us from acting.’

‘
I think we should get hold of Jeff,’ said Linsky, ‘explain the situation, tell him we’re about to reveal our presence so he can prepare to extract the target. If he gets that guy before we rescue these two from Sewell, we’ll be home and dry.’

‘
It’s risky. We’d need to know the target hasn’t revealed the renegade’s location to Sewell. After all, let’s not forget, it’s the renegade we really need. Putting Sewell behind bars isn’t important. Silencing Sebastian is.’

Walsh thought for a moment, but his mind was clouding. The days of sleep deprivation, the stress, the panic of hopelessness – all were sapping his energy. The lump that had formed in his throat that first day, as Petersen’s reports had spilled onto his desk, was now a permanent obstruction in his neck. It felt bruised; it hurt when he swallowed.

Briefly, the idea of defeat took seed in Walsh’s mind. Strangely though, it didn’t alarm him. Instead, it promised redemption, salvation. It offered tranquillity. For that brief second Walsh felt that failure wasn’t so bad after all, that the world’s stability was not his responsibility. There would be no shame if he let humanity slide into chaos and destruction. Why should he care? He was prepared for the truth, was ready to live under the worse revelation Sebastian could offer. If the world couldn’t cope, then he could leave them to their anarchic confusion and shrink away from sight.

But the thought was brief, thrust into his mind by some primeval part of the brain that required rest; that tried to switch off his moral functions in an attempt at self-preservation. The idea burst, along with the drunken stupor that had beckoned him toward sleep.

An alertness replaced it. And a new resolve.

Chapter 24

At the edge of consciousness, lingering one foot in sleep, the other in stupor, an orchestra was playing. A lament for a world about to be purged of its innocence. Defiled. With a crash of cymbals, a chasm opened at his feet and he fell.

Walsh sat upright, dazed, staring at a bare wall.

The mobile was tinkling the
Star-Spangled Banner
. Turning, he reached over the bed, almost throwing himself onto the floor in his haste to reach the device. He grabbed the handset. A glance at the bedside clock told him he’d been asleep only two hours. It was 08:30.

He punched the answer button. ‘Hullo?’ he said, swallowing uncomfortably, suddenly aware of the dry soreness in his throat.

‘
Walsh?’ said a voice. It sounded distant.

Suddenly Walsh was wide-awake.

‘
Lewis! Where’ve you been? I’ve been trying you all night.’ Walsh pulled himself upright and lay back against the hard wood of the bed’s headrest. It dug into his shoulders.

‘
Yeah,’ said Lewis. ‘I’ve had the handset switched off. I didn’t want to be disturbed.’

‘
Where are you?’

‘
Miami International.’

‘
What’s happening?’

‘
I’ve got a location.’

‘
Where? Tell me.’

‘
Some ancient ruin in Peru, near Cusco. Place called Cotacoca.’

‘
Peru? Okay. When are they leaving?’

‘
Not sure. There’s a flight to Lima about midnight tonight, but they haven’t booked anything yet.’

Walsh pulled himself forward and sat on the edge of the bed. ‘Listen, Jeff,’ he said, ‘things are moving fast here. You may have to extract the target at short notice.’

‘
Okay,’ Lewis said slowly. ‘Trouble?’

‘
Maybe. Steve and I were listening in on Sewell last night. He was talking to his superior at the Society. A guy called Jordan. They were discussing a couple of guys they want killed – two guys who’ve been snooping around too much. One of them was an abductee, the other one’s a journalist, from Germany. I think we need to get these two men to safety. They may be crucial in uncovering the truth. But when we do, he’ll almost certainly order the target killed.’ There was silence on the other end of the line. ‘You still there?’ said Walsh, briefly pulling the mobile from his ear and inspecting the display.

‘
Yes,’ Lewis answered. He paused then said, ‘that might not be necessary. That idea I had? It’s now a plan. I’ll be rid of Sewell’s men by tonight. We should be safe then. All I’ll have to do is follow them to Peru.’ Lewis sounded very sure of himself.

‘
You’re getting rid of Sewell’s men? How?’

‘
A trick I’ve used before. The classic decoy. I’ve got some people who’ll lead Sewell’s men away. They’re kitted out just like our three targets; look very like them too. Dead ringers, in fact. I offered each of them a thousand dollars to get on a flight together tonight. They’ll have a couple of nights on the East Coast with some spending money. They couldn’t believe their luck. You should have seen their faces!’

Walsh paused. It sounded dangerous. Whatever Sewell’s men were, they were certainly professionals. It would be difficult to pull the wool over their eyes. He didn’t want to reprimand Lewis. If he couldn’t trust him, he’d better give up now. But he
did
trust him, implicitly.

‘
Who are these people?’ he asked.

‘
The girl I met in the street. The guys were playing ball in the park.’

Walsh stood and wandered over to the window, pulled his boxers onto his hips. He eased the drapes open and peered out at the grey brick of the building opposite. His hotel room looked down on a filthy back alley, just four blocks from the
Tagaste
Society. He let the drapes fall back into place and returned to sit on the bed.

‘
Will it work?’ he asked.

‘
Of course it will,’ replied Lewis. Walsh could picture the grin on his face. ‘I’ll be keeping our real targets occupied at the right time. And I’ll make sure Sewell’s men are aware of the decoys. They won’t be able to follow them onto the plane, but if everything goes to plan, I guarantee they’ll be on the next flight to Vegas after them. There’s one every few hours from here.’

‘
You’re sending them to Vegas?’

‘
Well, Vegas is the stop over; they’re going to San Francisco. It’s about as far away from Miami as I could ask these people to go. By the time Sewell’s men realise their mistake, I’ll be long gone. And so will the target. We’ll be heading for Lima.’

‘
Okay. What time is the Vegas flight?’

‘
Eight-fifteen tonight.’

‘
Right. Let’s hope these two guys don’t show up before then. If they do, I’ll call. Be ready to extract the target immediately. I don’t think Sewell will hang around once he realises were onto him.’

‘
Don’t worry. I won’t let the target out of my sight.’

‘
If the decoy fails, let me know.’

‘
I will.’

‘
And be careful. Don’t reveal your presence.’

‘
I won’t.’

Walsh thought for a moment. He was trying to piece together the sequence of events in his mind, assuring himself that what he was doing wouldn’t jeopardise the mission. He’d heard Sewell mention that the group was in Miami, but he hadn’t mentioned a location for Sebastian. This had been about eleven o’clock the previous night. But when had the group discovered Sebastian’s whereabouts?

‘
The girl…,’ Walsh started to say, but Lewis broke in.

‘
I know what you’re going to say. The girl may have already reported where they’re headed. No. I’ve been watching her; she’s very careful not to contact her superiors when she’s with the others. They discovered the location yesterday morning; she hasn’t contacted anyone since. Sewell can’t know about Peru yet. I’ll be keeping a close watch on her. In fact, I’m watching her right now. If she tries contact, I’ll prevent it. Don’t worry.’

‘
Are you sure she hasn’t contacted them already?’

‘
Positive. She called Sewell on a satellite phone two nights ago, but that was before they knew Sebastian’s location. I’ll make sure they don’t find out, at least until we’re out of the country. Until I’m rid of her protectors.’

Walsh felt reassured. He swapped the receiver to his other ear. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘By the way, the girl’s name is Clara.’

‘
Clara? Right, that might be useful.’

‘
Okay, Jeff, I’ll let you get back to it. Once we’ve taken these two men up here, we’ll get to Lima as soon as we can.’

‘
Do you expect to find them soon? I could really do with some help down here.’

‘
Jordan said they’d made an appointment, but he didn’t say when. I don’t really want to be waiting around too long for them. If we haven’t got them by tomorrow evening, we’ll head straight for Lima. It’s more important that we’re there to get Sebastian.’

‘
Okay. I’ll be in Lima by morning. I’m trying to get on that flight tonight.’

‘
With the target?’

‘
Yes. There’s two flights today. The first one’s full. Don’t worry. I’ll be discreet.’

‘
Okay. Where will you be?’

‘
Don’t know. You’ll have to wait for my call. If we’re out of contact, I’ll book an Alamo car for you at the airport and leave a message for you there. It’ll be under the name Harry Westport, as usual.’

‘
Okay.’

‘
See you in Peru.’

‘
Sure. Oh, one last thing. Leave your mobile on will you?’

‘
I’ll try and remember.’

The connection ended and Walsh swiped the screen to end the call. He put the handset on the bedside table and took a swig of water. Rubbing his temples, he sighed, then let himself fall back onto the mattress.

He was asleep again within two minutes.

―
§ ―

Linsky was biting his nails furiously. It was a nasty habit, but one that stopped him losing concentration. He wasn’t even aware he was doing it.

In front of him the surveillance equipment was ticking away – monitoring, recording, waiting. It had been an uneventful morning since he’d relieved Walsh in the early hours. He’d caught a few hours’ sleep in their nearby hotel room before trudging back to the Chevy Express through the persistent drizzle. It was parked two blocks from the
Tagaste
Building.

It was a little after midday now, and although the rain had stopped beating on the roof, Linsky could hear the swish of cars rushing along the wet asphalt outside.

The dull morning had been broken by a series of uninteresting phone calls and innocuous emails. Even the hidden microphones hadn’t picked up much of interest; a discussion about hair extensions between the receptionist and the president’s secretary, the chattering of computer keyboards, the stirring of a fresh cup of coffee. That was about it. There was no new evidence, no interesting lead on Sewell’s purpose. No communications with extra-terrestrial overlords.