The Cain Conspiracy (11 page)

“You wear that everywhere you go?” Cain kidded.

“It’s my good luck hat.”

“I hope it is.”

They sat and talked for a few minutes, waiting and hoping for Contreras to show his face. Cain was genuinely interested in the Honduran culture and what it was like to live there.

“This is a great place to be,” Ruiz told him. “Beautiful weather, good people, excellent food.”

“Lots of murder.”

“You are right, unfortunately, there is very high murder rate here. But is that so much unlike any of your American big cities like New York, or Los Angeles? Crime is widespread in this world no matter the location. That is why we must not fail in our work here. To protect our children and make it safer for them.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

Luckily for them their wait didn’t last very long. Twenty minutes after twelve Contreras walked into the restaurant, getting a table a couple rows in front of the American and his companion. With his sunglasses still on, Cain turned his head slightly to give the appearance he was looking elsewhere, but still kept his eyes glued to Contreras’ table. Contreras appeared to be eating alone at first, as he ordered his food, but ten minutes later his company arrived. Two men arrived, sitting down at the table, and also ordered food. They brought a briefcase and set it down on the table. They took out some papers and handed them to Contreras, as he studied them carefully, occasionally stopping to take a drink. Cain could see Contreras’ head nodding, without saying anything, appearing to like what he was reading. Cain took out his cell phone and pretended to be texting, carefully positioning the phone to get a good picture of the three men seated in front of him. He was able to get a few pictures of the unknown individuals, a full face shot of the one, and a side shot of the other. Contreras had his back to the camera but he was not important since he was already known. Cain immediately sent the images to Shelly Lawson, letting her know the meeting was taking place right at that moment.

“Will analyze immediately,” Lawson texted back. “Stay with them.”

“Will do,” Cain responded.

Cain and Ruiz kept talking as they ate their lunch, making it appear they were just regular people. Cain continued keeping an eye on the Contreras table in the process. Contreras was doing a lot of talking, and moving his hands around frequently, making it seem like he was incensed about something. Unfortunately, Cain wasn’t good at lip reading, and couldn’t even make a guess at what was being discussed. The other two men appeared to be staying calm, and not saying a whole lot, making it seem like maybe it was just something Contreras was passionate talking about. Cain did notice that the one man seemed to do most of the talking for the pair when they did speak, his partner mostly listening and looking around occasionally. As Cain studied the man he came to the conclusion that he must’ve been a bodyguard. He figured someone in a higher authority would’ve had more to say. The fact he kept looking around made it seem like he was keeping an eye out for trouble. Both parties stayed at their tables until a little after one. Contreras concluded his meeting by shaking the hands of both his visitors, who left their briefcase behind as they walked away from the table.

“Should we follow them?” Ruiz asked.

“No. My target is Contreras,” Cain replied. “Seems like something’s going on, but we don’t know who they are yet. Could be nobody.”

“You are right, of course.”

The briefcase changed Cain’s plans slightly. Before, he was planning on killing Contreras with a sniper rifle. Now, he was thinking about what might be in that briefcase. If he took Contreras out up close, he could quickly snatch the briefcase. If he killed him from afar he likely wouldn’t have time to take it with onlookers and police converging on the dead body.

“Are you going to do it now?” Ruiz wondered.

“Too many witnesses here.”

About ten minutes later Contreras paid his bill and left the restaurant, briefcase in hand. Cain and Ruiz followed him out the door, watching him get into the back seat of a car, which then drove off.

“Damn,” Cain remarked.

“What is wrong?”

“I walked here.”

“We can take my car,” Ruiz offered.

They raced over to his car and followed Contreras. It was a short chase as the Contreras car stopped a few minutes later in front of the cathedral. Contreras got out with his briefcase and walked inside. Ruiz parked his car in front as Cain debated going inside as well. He decided to wait until Contreras returned before either killing him or continue following him. A half hour passed with still no sign of Contreras, causing Cain to get a little worried that he knew he was being followed and ducked out somewhere. His driver was still parked in front though so Cain thought maybe Contreras was having another meeting inside with someone. It’d be a perfect place to have a meeting with someone without having wandering eyes looking down at them. Patience wasn’t Cain’s strongest attribute and he’d just about exhausted however much he had of it. He told Ruiz to wait for him to get back and exited the car.

Cain entered the cathedral and looked around, trying to spot Contreras. He started walking along the wall, spotting Contreras a few rows near the back, on the right hand side near the end of a pew. He was sitting by himself, his head looking down, seeming to be in prayer. Cain quietly walked toward him, hoping he wouldn’t notice him coming. He walked into the pew behind Contreras, going to the end, sitting directly behind him. Contreras, feeling the presence of someone behind him, slowly rose his head up.

“What can I do for you?” Contreras wondered.

“There’s not a thing you can do for me.”

“Then why are you here? For the prayers?”

“I’m like a courier. Just here to deliver a message,” Cain said.

“I’m listening.”

“Where’s the briefcase?” Cain asked, not seeing it next to Contreras.

“I don’t see how that’s of any importance to you.”

“Who were you just meeting with?”

“Once again, I don’t see how that is important to you.”

“Well, in the grand scheme of things it really doesn’t matter cause it’s not gonna change your fate.”

“Which is what?”

“You’re dead.”

“If you’re planning to kill me you could at least tell me why or who sent you?” Contreras asked, trying to buy time to think of a way out of his situation.

“There was a little girl in New York a few years ago that you sent to an early grave,” Cain told him.

“This is about that?” Contreras responded with a laugh. “Please, tell me how much they are paying you to do this and I’ll double it for you to walk away. I’ll put you on my payroll as we speak. I have big plans coming.”

“No thanks.”

Cain withdrew his gun from his belt, ready to put an end to Contreras’ life. Just as he started to raise the pistol, Contreras slumped forward, part of his head exploding, pieces flying everywhere. Blood splattered onto Cain, who ducked for cover. Whoever killed him used a silencer since there was no sound from the shot being fired. Cain peeked over the pew, looking for the man who took out his target. He carefully raised his head above the pew, not wanting to expose himself too much in case the shooter intended to take him out also. After being stationary for a minute, Cain assumed the shooter already left, and he raced toward the door. He wanted to quickly get out of there before police arrived.

As soon as Cain went through the door he noticed a man getting out of the passenger side of Contreras’ car. The man was holding a brown briefcase which looked like the same one Contreras had in his possession. He was a white man, about average height, short brown hair, and wore a goatee. Once the man closed the car door he looked around and noticed Cain standing at the cathedral’s doors. The man smiled at Cain as Cain started running toward him. A car quickly squealed its brakes as it rushed to the curb, the man getting in the back seat, rushing off before Cain could get there. Cain slapped his leg in disgust, not believing what just happened. He walked over to Contreras’ car and peered through the window. The driver was dead, as Cain assumed he would be, slumped to his side, his head resting against the window. He rushed over to Ruiz’s car before anyone realized what happened as the pair drove away.

“What just happened?” Ruiz asked.

“I wish I knew.”

“Is Contreras dead?”

“Yeah.”

“The mission was successful then, no?”

“I’m not the one that killed him,” Cain said, displeased.

“Oh. If you did not kill him, then who did?”

“That’s the question.”

“And why?”

Ruiz drove Cain back to the Hilton Princess so Cain could contact Lawson and figure out his next step. Cain thanked Ruiz for his help and told him he’d contact him if he needed anything else.

“Good luck, my friend, it’s been a pleasure,” Ruiz said.

“Same to you.”

Cain went straight to his room and immediately called Lawson.

“Hey, we’re still working on identifying the men in the photos,” Lawson said.

“Contreras is dead.”

“Oh. OK. A little faster than I anticipated but that’s OK.”

“Except I didn’t do it,” Cain informed her.

“Then who did?”

“I don’t know. I was about to and someone took a shot from behind me and blew his head off.”

“Did you get a look at him?”

“Yeah, but he wasn’t one of the guys from the pictures.”

“Well this is an interesting development, isn’t it?” Lawson remarked.

“If you say so.”

“We certainly didn’t anticipate any complications on this mission.”

“You’re telling me.”

“Well sit tight until you hear back from me.”

An hour went by without word from Lawson. Cain took a shower then had food sent up to his room. As he sat down to eat the phone in his room started ringing. A strange look came across him as he didn’t know who’d be calling him there. He cautiously walked over to it, almost like he was afraid it might blow up, and after a few rings picked it up.

“Hello,” Cain answered.

“Mr. Mathews, we have an outside call for you, do you accept the call?” the front desk asked.

“Yeah.”

“One moment.”

“So the room’s registered to a Michael Mathews, is that your real name?” the mysterious man asked.

“Who’s this?”

“Have you forgotten me so soon?”

“Who are you? You know my name, it’s only fair that I know yours.”

“Fair point. My name’s George Wentworth. I’m sorry about interrupting your meeting at the church. It looked like it was about to end but I needed to be the one that finished it.”

“Why was it so important that you needed to do it?”

“That’s what I’m paid for,” the man told him.

“Who are you working for?”

“That’s nothing for you to be concerned with.”

“What was in the briefcase?”

“I don’t know. I was just instructed to get it. What was inside was not my business.”

“Are you with Specter?” Cain asked, not sure if he should’ve said the name, but he was curious if it was another test by Sanders.

“Specter? Ah, so you’re a Project Specter agent,” Wentworth said. “Now that makes it all the more interesting. That means Mathews probably isn‘t your real name.”

“The same as Wentworth probably isn’t yours. What do you know about Specter?”

“I was once in that boat, as you are now.”

“You were an agent?”

“Yes. For several years. Now, I’m in business for myself. I freelance. Who is your handler?”

“Shelly Lawson.”

“Shelly? She was my handler also. I loved Shelly. She was the only difficult part about leaving. If Shelly’s your handler then you’re in good hands. She’ll take care of you.”

“She seems like she knows her stuff,” Cain said.

“Oh, she does. There’s no one better. Just a word of advice from one agent to another, be careful.”

“Of what?”

“Everything. Don’t trust everything that’s said or done,” Wentworth added. “I don’t know your particular situation but everything they tell you is not necessarily the truth or as it appears. They have their own agenda for things. They will play you for their own advantage. The same as if you’re playing with fire…be cautious around it.”

“Thanks for the tip. Maybe we’ll run into each other again someday.”

“If you’re with Project Specter, it’s more than likely.”

“How’d you know where I was, anyway?” Cain wondered.

“I followed you after the church. I wanted to see who the mysterious man was that I was competing with,” Wentworth replied. “Some more advice for you, always make sure you’re not being followed.“

“I’ll do that next time.”

“You do that. Well, I have to go. Until next time.”

Cain picked up his phone, ready to call Lawson, but put it back down. He figured she’d be calling him soon enough. He sat down to finish the rest of his dinner as he replayed the conversation with Wentworth in his mind. Just as Cain finished dinner his phone rang. It was Lawson.

“Looks like we got some hits on those pictures you took,” Lawson stated.

“What’s the word?”

“The men Contreras was meeting with were definitely European, specifically Russian. The man he was talking to was Andrei Kurylenko. He is a burgeoning international arms dealer. He’s been making contacts all over the world. He’s someone we’ll be having to contend with shortly. The other man with him was one of his top aides, Dmitri Butsayev.”

“That seems like bad news.”

“It is. If Contreras was meeting with Kurylenko that can only mean that Contreras was trying to acquire massive amounts of firearms.”

“That doesn’t seem like that was part of his repertoire,” Cain said.

“Contreras dropped off the map after New York. He must’ve been trying to step up his notoriety.”

“He did say he had big plans coming up.”

“Kurylenko must’ve been what he had in mind,” Lawson said.