The Rules Of Silence Part 12

Burden stood slowly, suddenly feeling as if night covered the globe, as if, while he had been in this puggy little motel room, all of the time zones had melted away into darkness everywhere and morning was erased from the vocabulary of man.

"When I come back, "he said, "I'll be coming to get you to do it."

Chapter 26.

When Burden finally got there, t.i.tus was waiting for him on the veranda. Burden was hot and sweaty, having been let out by his van crew on Cielo Canyon Road and then having climbed through the woods to the back of the orchard. He was dressed much as he'd been in Mexico twenty-four hours earlier when t.i.tus had left him, faded jeans and a baggy, chocolate brown linen s.h.i.+rt.

They went across the courtyard past the fountain and the atrium hallway and into t.i.tus's office, where Rita was waiting.

Their introduction was awkward. Rita was wary and standoffish and making no effort to disguise it, and Burden was sweaty and clearly pressed for time. Rita was civil enough to offer him a gla.s.s of water, which he accepted. When she returned with it he thanked her, took a long drink of it, and dove right into his explanation.

"The first order of business for us, "he said, standing at the end of the table, the windows overlooking the dark orchard behind him, "is to find out how many people Luquin actually has working with him on this operation. In setting up this meeting, they'll have to put their communications and security people into play. We'll watch and count. That's all."

He took another drink of water and a deep breath. He looked at his watch and went on.

"We're at a huge disadvantage here, "he said. "We can't lose sight of that. And we only have one shot at getting this count-"

"Explain the disadvantage, "Rita interrupted.

Burden looked at her. t.i.tus thought he could see him swallowing his irritation. Then he nodded.

"This is a kind of operation that Luquin has refined over years of experience, "he said. "His people have probably been here several weeks doing advance work, which is how your house got its electronic surveillance. His operational point man is probably Jorge Macias, a former intelligence officer in the Mexican Federal Directorate of National Security. For years Macias secretly informed on intelligence matters to Luquin. And Macias has connections in the U.S. He's probably got four or five teams on this operation, all compartmentalized, all perfectly used to Macias's style of doing business. His people are rested, well rehea.r.s.ed, and wired.

"Now, here's the way our side looks: I've been brought in at the last minute and have no intelligence on the ground. I'm having to build two crews, literally overnight, by flying people in here from half a dozen different cities, and I'm working against the clock. My people are excellent, but there are only a few of them. They're stretched as thin as it's possible to stretch. They've had to lose sleep to get here, and they won't be able to slow down or stop until this is finished. They're working under intense pressure that Luquin's people don't have to contend with because Luquin's the one who's creating the pressure. He's dictated the rules-as we've discussed, "he said again to t.i.tus, "and he's set a schedule. If you, and therefore we, don't keep to his schedule, there'll be consequences. We've already seen a tragic example of that."

All of this was laid out in a smooth, clipped monologue, and although he was polite, t.i.tus could see Burden's impatience at being asked to spell it out.

t.i.tus glanced at Rita, who was sitting halfway down the table. A gla.s.s of Scotch sat on a magazine in front of her. She was tense and concentrating on Burden as if she were reading his mind and if she let up even a little bit, she'd lose the link.

Burden looked at her. He was waiting to see if his response had satisfied her, but t.i.tus thought he saw more than that, too. He remembered the portraits of women in Burden's study. The man appreciated women, and that sensibility didn't go away, apparently, because of a little stress and danger. t.i.tus glanced at Rita. She understood what was happening. Handsome women learned to understand that look from early girlhood.

"Let's talk about what's going to happen in the next few hours, "Burden said. "When you leave here, t.i.tus, you'll be pretty much on your own. Obviously we can't afford to wire you. No use to bug the Rover, they're going to separate you from that. And even though our chase cars will be with you every moment, they're going to be giving you a wide berth. They won't risk detection, even if they lose sight of you."

"What? "Rita gasped. "You can't send him to this meeting like that."

"We have to, "Burden said calmly, and then looked at t.i.tus for help in dealing with her.

Rita was looking at t.i.tus, too, her eyes flas.h.i.+ng with anger and a kind of fear that she wasn't even admitting to herself.

"Think about it, Rita, "t.i.tus said. "Luquin wants the money. I control the money. Believe me, I'm in no danger from Luquin. In fact, I may be the only person not in danger. My safety's not an issue here."

"Then what the h.e.l.l is the issue?"

"Avoiding detection, "Burden said. "We cannot be discovered. The only-I repeat-the only slight advantage we have in this operation is that they don't know we're here. They have no idea that anyone's on to them." be discovered. The only-I repeat-the only slight advantage we have in this operation is that they don't know we're here. They have no idea that anyone's on to them."

Rita stared at him. "I understand the rationale, "she said evenly, "but this isn't a tactical exercise to me. This is my husband meeting alone with a killer."

Burden bent his head and wiped his sweaty forehead on the shoulder of his s.h.i.+rtsleeve.

"Mrs. Cain"-he locked his eyes on her for emphasis-"to be brutally honest, sooner or later you're more likely to be in danger than your husband."

"We've talked about her going away, a safe house somewhere, "t.i.tus interjected, "and-"

"And it's a stupid suggestion, "Rita interrupted, cutting her eyes at Burden. "And I wouldn't do it in a thousand years. Or sooner or later. Forget it."

"Look, "Burden said, "I know that this seems ... outrageously risky to you, Mrs. Cain, I know that. But think of this: Everything you see during the next few days is going to be startling to you. This is a world you've never even imagined before, but it's the world I live in. I'm intimate with it. I see it differently from you. I read the developing events from an entirely different perspective. "He paused. "To be frank, Mrs. Cain, you have to trust me. You really don't have any other choice."

"I don't know if I believe that, "she said quickly.

"Rita, Garcia and I have already been through this, "t.i.tus said. "In detail. This is the way we're going. It's too late, and far, far too risky-in terms of other people's lives-for us to change courses now."

"In detail, "she said. "That's great. "She turned to Burden. "And what happens if your people are spotted? What kind of a position does that put t.i.tus in then? What preparations have you made to deal with something like that? You've just spent the last twenty minutes explaining to us how you're at a huge disadvantage in ... in this ... operation, and now you're wanting me to believe that t.i.tus is going to go off somewhere and talk with this ... insane killer, and you want me to believe that he ... that he's not in danger? Do you think I'm an idiot?"

t.i.tus studied Rita closely. He could tell that she had reached a point where it was difficult for her to distinguish between her anger and her fear. It seemed that the two emotions were now so closely intertwined within her that they had become an entirely new and hybrid pa.s.sion. Even as strongminded and self-confident as she was, she had always trusted his judgment in most high-stakes situations. But it seemed that she was finding this one hard to go along with.

Fighting tears, she took another drink, but t.i.tus could tell that she was swallowing a lot more than Scotch.

In the silence that followed, Burden ran his fingers through his hair, gave the moment an opportunity to settle. To give him credit, he seemed genuinely empathetic to her predicament.

"I can't undo your misfortune, Mrs. Cain, "he said. "I can't make the danger go away or disarm the evil you're encountering. It would be cruel for me to pretend otherwise."

Rita looked away, and Burden glanced at t.i.tus for direction. t.i.tus nodded for him to go on.

"You need to understand, "Burden said, addressing t.i.tus, "that even if we lose visual contact with you, we're going to know where you are at every moment. It's not like you're dropping off the edge of the earth."

Standing, he pulled a small plastic packet of breath fresheners out of his pocket and came down the other side of the table from Rita. He sat next to t.i.tus, putting the plastic packet on the table in front of him.

"Just before I came in here, "he said, looking at both of them, "we pretty much confirmed where Luquin is staying."

"Pretty much? "t.i.tus asked.

"We haven't actually seen him on the property. By intercepting encrypted cell phone transmissions in Spanish, we've narrowed it down to three houses. Now two of those have been eliminated. The one we're looking at is owned by a divorcee who divides her time between Austin and Santa Fe. When she's not here, she lets friends use it. This month she gave it to a woman from Laredo, who pa.s.sed it on through a succession of her own friends. We lost the thread, but we think this is it.

"Also, one of my two mobile units is picking up cell phone action from another mobile unit-with very strong encryption-to Mexico City. But we're not having a lot of luck unraveling the encryption, and we're having trouble nailing the exact vehicle. We think it's Macias's people, and we think we can confirm that during your meeting tonight."

"And then what? "t.i.tus asked.

"In order to coordinate a move on Luquin, we have to know where all of his people are at all times. With the first tactical move that we make against his people, there's a risk they'll be able to set off an instant signaling mechanism. Then it's all over. A special team that travels with Luquin-probably those guys you saw the other night-will quickly spirit him away. Unless our people are in place to deal with it, Luquin will be gone."

Without further explanation, Burden opened the packet of breath fresheners and dumped out the little white pellets onto the table. Then he removed the top of the box, and from the inside of the plastic container he carefully slipped out a thin sheet of plastic that looked like waxed paper.

Nestled inside the paper was a variety of irregularly shaped blotches roughly half a centimeter in diameter, some cinnamon brown, some slightly darker than flesh, some ginger. Burden pulled a pair of tweezers out of his pocket and carefully lifted one of the objects. It was translucent, thin as cellophane.

"Moles and liver spots, "he said. "They're adhesive on one side and won't loosen with sweat or water, but they're easy to peel off. So thin you have to know they're there to feel them. Designed by a dermatologist"-he laid the fake mole down on one side of the unfolded plastic sheet-"and a microfluids engineer. They're actually a by-product of something else, but this not-quite-there stage of the development turned out to be perfect for this kind of thing.

"They're little transmitters-for a special kind of receiver-and they'll transmit up to ten days and about twenty miles. We want you to put these on the backs of your hands and forearms. When you've found the right place, peel one off and leave it."

t.i.tus was bent over the table, looking closely at the moles. "And what are the right places? "he asked.

"If you can get them on another person, that's best. Otherwise, leave them in a vehicle if it looks like it's one of theirs- say, one that's got electronic equipment or in some other way gives you the idea it's something they'll use again. If they take you someplace that looks like it's a permanent staging area, not a motel room, for example, then leave a spot. In short, leave them anywhere you think will be critical for us to know about ... when the time comes.

"Notice, "Burden added, pointing at the spots with the tweezers, "that there are light and dark moles. They send different signals. Leave one kind on vehicles, the other kind on people. That way we'll know what we're looking at. Since you won't be able to see the difference in the dark, you can put one kind on each hand so you can keep them straight."

"How many of them are there? "t.i.tus asked.

"Only eight, unfortunately."

"They've got to be expensive."

"You're looking at fifty-three thousand dollars'worth of blotches. And they're worth every dime of it."

"Then that's all you want him to do? "Rita interjected. "Just leave these things ... around."

"That and, of course, get what he can out of the conversation. "He looked at Rita. "This is essential, "he said. "The information is invaluable."

"So is he, "she said evenly, and she looked as if for an extra dime she would have given Burden a piece of her mind, too, but she held her tongue. Barely.

Burden didn't react or respond. "One of them will send a slightly different signal, "he said to t.i.tus, and probed through the blotches, selecting one of the lighter ones with a black dot in the center of it. "It's yours. We'll put it on your upper arm and get it out of your way. That'll leave you seven to leave behind."

"Okay, then we'd better get started, "t.i.tus said, putting both arms on the table. "I want to see how the things work, and there's not that much time left."

Chapter 27.

Following Luquin's instructions, t.i.tus steered his Range Rover through the gates of his property at exactly twelve-thirty and started down the winding half mile of private drive to Cielo Canyon Road. He had been told to make his way to Westlake Drive and then go south to the Toro Canyon intersection, where he would receive further instructions.

It didn't happen that way.

After he rounded the second steep bend of the descending drive, a man stepped out of the dark margin of the woods into the path of t.i.tus's headlights and waved him down. When t.i.tus stopped, the man came up quickly and opened his door.

"Please get out, Mr. Cain, "he said in heavily accented English. t.i.tus put the Rover in park and did as he was told, leaving the engine idling. The man got into the Rover and drove away without another word, leaving t.i.tus standing in the middle of the paved road in the dark.

As the engine of his Rover receded and the buzzing sounds of lacewings filled the darkness, t.i.tus heard the snap of a branch and turned around to see the black smear of another figure stepping out of the woods.

"Mr. Cain, "the man said, approaching him. There was no flashlight. "Please put these on, "the man said, and handed t.i.tus a pair of goggles, which he slipped on. They had nightvision lenses, and the world became apple green with highlights of leached turquoise. He could now see that the man was wearing the same device. He was dressed in street clothes, his tight-fitting knit polo s.h.i.+rt revealing a trim stomach and muscular arms. The handgun at his waist was large.

They stepped off the road and into the woods, the man in front of him. They moved downhill through the cedar and underbrush, not hurrying but carefully picking their way through the dense cedar thickets, their dress loafers a distinct disadvantage on the rough terrain.

In just a few minutes they came to Cielo Canyon Road and stopped short in the edge of the woods. A car pa.s.sed them as they stood only a few feet into the brush. Then another. The third car slowed, a Lincoln Navigator. It stopped, and t.i.tus was hustled out of the woods and into the car, which started driving away before the doors were even closed.

He was in the seat behind the driver, with the man sitting next to him.

"The gla.s.ses, "said the man sitting beside him, and t.i.tus removed the goggles and handed them over.

t.i.tus looked at the driver. The back of the head meant nothing to him. When he glanced at the man beside him, the guy was looking at him. Mexican.

A scanner attached to the dash in the front beeped and crackled, and a satellite map, crisp and clear, was mounted beside that. As if sensing t.i.tus's interest, the driver leaned forward and turned off the monitor. Sighing heavily, t.i.tus worked off a mole from the back of his left hand and stuck it to the front of the seat between his legs.

In just a few turns they pulled into a housing development and drove through the streets until they came to the back side of the development, where two houses were under construction.

"Get out, "said the guy sitting next to him. They both got out, and the guy came around holding something in his arms. "Take off your clothes, "he said.

t.i.tus undressed, and when he was down to his shoes and underwear the guy said, "All of it. "t.i.tus kicked off his shoes, peeled off his socks, and shed his underwear. Part of his instructions from Luquin had been to leave all identification behind. Apparently they were going to drive off and leave his clothes and shoes right where they were.

"You work out? "the guy asked, handing t.i.tus the clothes he had been holding. The driver in the Navigator snorted.

"Yeah, "t.i.tus said.

"Weights?"

"Yeah, "t.i.tus said. He put on the pants and b.u.t.toned them and then the s.h.i.+rt. From what he could see in the light from the opened door, it was some kind of service repairman's uniform, putty gray. After he b.u.t.toned up the s.h.i.+rt, the guy dropped a pair of shoes on the ground.

"Elevens?"

"Right. "t.i.tus bent down to put on the first shoe and lost his balance. Staggering, he reached out reflexively to the guy, who reacted the same, catching him with a beefy shoulder to keep him from falling. Quickly t.i.tus righted himself and then finished putting on his shoes. He had managed to leave a mole from his right hand on the back side of the man's upper right arm.

When they got back into the SUV, the guy handed t.i.tus a black hood.

"Put it on, "the man said.

t.i.tus slipped it over his head and immediately had to fight claustrophobia. It wasn't just the feel of the close-fitting cloth. It was all of it, the whole menacing unfamiliarity of it.

He tried to keep track of the turns, but it was impossible; besides, he suspected the driver was doubling back and retracing his course much of the time. After t.i.tus had shed his clothes, the two men began talking in Spanish. They must've known that t.i.tus couldn't understand them because they didn't seem to be cautious or stinting in their conversation. Then the car hit what must have been a stretch of highway, because the Navigator sped up to a sustained speed. The conversation stopped.

t.i.tus lost track of time on the highway, and the monotony of the constant speed and the lack of conversation conspired to create a strange timelessness. Then suddenly the car began to decelerate quickly, and without pulling off to the side of the highway, it stopped.

The doors flew open and t.i.tus was hustled out and shoved into another vehicle-another SUV, from the feel of it. Again he found himself in the backseat. Quickly, because he didn't know how long he would be in the car, he left another mole on the seat between his legs. The car turned off the highway and accelerated quickly, roaring over a paved but undulating road, maybe a county road.

Another turn. A gravel road that climbed. Switchbacks. Slowing. A stop.

The SUV's doors opened: the driver and only one other. Different men, he guessed. Somebody took him out and, holding his arm above the elbow, guided him over gravel, then gra.s.s or weeds, and finally a couple of steps to a porch. Wooden porch. Into a front door.

By pretending to be more uncertain of his movement than he really was, he was able to reach out often with searching, fumbling hands and to touch his escort more often than he would have done otherwise. Between the car and the porch, he managed to leave a mole on this man also.

Inside, he was told to stand still and wait for instructions, then he heard the man leave and the door close behind him. He could tell someone was in the room with him, and he could smell a cold fireplace. The wooden floor underneath his feet creaked. Old. Deteriorating.

"Take off the hood, Mr. Cain."