“Jake, any movement in the hotel?” Peyton asked. Right now, Jake sat in a dark corner in the hotel lobby’s bar, where he remotely monitored the John Smith room camera. If someone investigated the room and then came back down, it meant the three of them would have a head start on who to watch. They could all access that feed.
“Not yet.”
“Okay,” Peyton said. “Stay sharp.”
Peyton was stationed inside the restaurant, at a table in the front window, with his laptop and some miscellaneous and meaningless papers that made him look like he was a generic business professional. He Primed and lavishly bribed the staff to keep his water glass filled and leave him alone.
From that window, he could see all of the tables outside, but due to the window coating and the bright afternoon, seeing him sitting there from outside would be difficult.
Ten minutes later, Jake broke the silence. “Movement triggered on the room camera.”
Peyton tensed, waiting.
“Man. Brown hair, mid-40s. Clean-shaven. Royal blue polo shirt, blue jeans. He stopped and is listening at the door.”
“Watch for him to come back down,” Peyton said.
About five minutes later, Jake said, “He’s heading toward the elevator.”
“Alvarez,” Peyton said. “You have eyes on the front lobby doors?”
“Roger,” he said.
“I’m repositioning,” Jake said. “Standby.”
Peyton tensed, wishing he could just grab the guy now, but they didn’t know if he was alone or not.
Or if anyone else was watching.
“Just stepped out of the elevator, heading to the front entrance. I got a good full-frontal pic of him.”
A moment later, Alvarez said, “I got him. He’s heading toward the restaurant.”
Peyton looked up. “I have eyes on him.”
The man kept walking past the restaurant, although he slowed, looking around, and then Peyton lost sight of him as he continued.
“He’s still moving,” Alvarez said. “Wait, he stopped at the end of the block, and he’s smoking.”
“Keep eyes on him,” Peyton said. “Jake, send me that picture.”
“Roger.”
It dropped into his phone a moment later. Peyton ran it through facial recognition software.
“Armando Beltran,” Peyton said. “Give me a moment.”
“He’s still smoking,” Alvarez said.
Peyton texted Badger to forward the information to Carl and Mateo and ask if they knew him.
Badger called him back in minutes. “They said he works fer Abundio. He’s his right-hand man. Abundio’s used him to follow Miranda plenty of times without her knowin’ it.”
“Well, fuck,” Peyton said. “I think it’s safe to say we know who dropped that software payload on her computer then, don’t we?”
“Yup,” Badger said.
Peyton relayed the information, and they settled in to wait. Over the next hour, they identified two more men who appeared too nonchalant in how they scoped out the area and positioned themselves.
