Page 48 of Dangerous Liaisons

Chapter Thirty-Six

Jesse aimed the penlight while Cole unfolded the map on the bed of their rental Jeep Cherokee beside a high-end, U.S. model cell phone receiver in an aluminum briefcase with three equip-spaced whip antennas. Text and numbers scrolled up the display screen as other phones transmitted, but Cole had programmed it to stop the scroll only on their target number.

The strong scent of loam was sweetened with a faint spice of jungle flowers. The crickets and frogs played in full symphony beyond them in the darkness. Jesse glanced east. Half a kilometer from their position near the dirt road, the tower they’d identified lay hidden by a moonless night partially overcast with the dim glow of Barranquilla on the northern horizon. The hint of light across the horizon reminded Jesse of the late night walks Amanda and she used to take on the Jersey Shore. Amanda could spend hours chasing the waves. Jesse’s heart constricted. Would she and Amanda ever walk those shores again?

“Caruthers and Fletcher are here and here with their monitors,” Cole said.

Jesse dropped her gaze to where he pointed at two spots on the map, each about five kilometers from their position with the tower at the center.

“Young and Roush will hit the sub-base in—” he glanced at his watch, “—fifteen minutes. As soon as the base phone lights up, Caruthers and Fletcher will call us with bearings and we’ll triangulate the caller’s location.”

“You haven’t told me how your men are getting into that sub,” she said.

He frowned. “It’s what we do. You know that.”

“Yeah, but this makes even me nervous.”

He grinned. “Jesse Evans nervous? Should I be scared?”

“You’ll know when to be scared,” she replied dryly, but wondered if she could scare him.

His smile disappeared. “What’s the objective?”

Jesse switched off the penlight and set it on the map. “Perez isn’t stupid enough to leave evidence lying around. We need a look at his hard drive. You know computers. You proved that when you rerouted the money I filched from Lanton.” She never asked how, but the money had reached Philips and Rothman.

“I’m no computer wiz,” Cole replied. “At least, not the kind it would take to break into a drug lord’s back door. He’s got to have more defenses than Fort Knox.”

She nodded. “Even a single account number, password, or transaction record will be enough for a real hound dog to backtrack to the source.”

The sniffer beeped. Phone hardware ID at a heading of 004 appeared on the display. Cole grabbed the pencil and wrote 004 next to their location on the map. Excitement pumped her heart faster. The coordinates were almost directly north, the direction of the hacienda in the satellite photo. She’d been right. The call from Menendez’s place had originated from Perez.

Jesse glanced at her watch, then frowned. “Eleven minutes early. What went wrong?”

“I don’t know.” He put a finger to his earpiece and triggered the transmitter on his belt. “Yeah, 231.” He released the transmit button and bent over the map. He wrote 231 at Caruthers’ position. He again triggered the radio transmitter long enough to say, “Roger, 126,” then slid his hand across to Fletcher’s location, and wrote 126.

He used the folded roadmap sitting between them as a straight edge, and drew a line from their location at a compass heading of 004, a second line from Caruthers at 231, and a third from Fletcher at a heading of 126. Satisfaction surged through Jesse. All three lines crossed at the hacienda they had seen on the satellite photo.

“Pack up,” he told her, then rose and took a couple steps away, speaking low into the microphone.

Jesse stilled. What was he doing? She strained to hear what he said, but the low rhythmic music of the crickets overrode his soft voice. She picked up the penlight and began folding the map when he turned.

“What happened?” she asked as he approached.

“Young and Roush report a convoy of armed men arrived at the base. Looks like a rival cartel.”

A turf war could force Perez’s into hiding, or result in his downfall before she could get to him. Adrenaline streaked through her. “The sub,” she murmured, then added, “Perez is going to get himself killed before we get the information we need. What about the demolition?”

Cole started unscrewing the sniffer’s antennas. “Same schedule, the explosion is set to go off in another seven minutes, but we’re moving out now.” He dropped the sniffers and antennas into a compartment built into the case, then closed the cover on the equipment and shoved it deeper in the bed of the Jeep. “If Perez isn’t already on his way to the base, he will be.”

“Lovely. All we have to do is make sure we don’t run into him on the road.”