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Victor Two did not even look up from the case he was in the process of photographing. He just said, “Cool.”
•••
Jim Pace scanned through his spotting scope, and he saw the white churning water at the bow of the Estelle. It would probably take only fifteen minutes or so to bring the ship into the docks at the container yard, and he doubted the Ground Branch men would be able to get off in time.
This morning was turning to shit, and among those things going wrong was the fact that he found himself completely confused. He couldn’t imagine that whoever was sending these weapons to be used against Hinton’s facility would send them unarmed and completely dismantled, but Travers had been clear about what he’d found in that container.
Sure, the other containers might contain ammunition, or other weapons, but why wouldn’t the fabrication be completed before they were sent to the destination where they would be used?
He decided he needed to update Gentry, somewhere in the neighborhood and watching over his position along with help from a friend of Gentry’s, who Pace neither knew nor completely trusted. Still, he was a desperate man at the moment, exposed and focused on things other than his own personal security, so the help was appreciated. He moved his headset to the side on his head and put an AirPod in his left ear.
FORTY-EIGHT
Court Gentry and Zoya Zakharova sat at a tiny table the proprietor of the cozy breakfast café had just carried out to the sidewalk for them. They ordered cafecitos and bottled water, and gazed across the street at the Iglesia San Francisco de Paula, an old and simple church a half block from the water.
Traffic was picking up; each passing automobile belched a little smog, but Court and Zoya pretended like they were enjoying themselves. Just beyond the church they could see the harbor, and down the street on their right they had eyes on the building where Jim Pace was in the midst of conducting his overwatch. And though they couldn’t see the ship in the harbor that was the focus of Jim’s attention, since the café was at a traffic circle, they could see roads leading here from four directions, meaning they had eyes on all ground approaches to Pace’s overwatch.
They weren’t expecting trouble. Yes, Cuba was a police state, and a CIA officer operating in the city would be in danger, but there was nothing to suggest that the authorities were aware of Pace’s presence.
The couple took pictures of the church; they kept AirPods in their ears, connected to Pace’s Signal number in case he had a message for them, and resigned themselves to sitting here for a couple hours of countersurveillance.
Just then, Pace’s voice came over the encrypted network. “Violator, you on the net?”
Court tapped his earpiece, then put his elbows on the table and leaned forward as if still waking up after a long night of drinking in Old Havana.
“I got you.”
“Victor has been delayed, they’re still on the ship and the ship is coming into the container dock.”
“Well, that sucks.”
“We’ve discovered there’s a lot more equipment on board than we had been expecting.”
He and Zoya looked at each other with alarm. They’d both faced down armed robots, and had no interest in doing so again.
“Everything kosher out there?” the older CIA officer asked.
“The town’s awake. The market below you just opened. There’s some passing police cars…but nothing out of the ordinary.”
“Roger that. Thanks for the help, man. I owe you guys a beer.”
“Just get Chris and his boys off that boat, and we’ll all have a beer.”
“Working on it.”
•••
Zack Hightower followed close behind Anton Hinton as he entered his office and set his messenger bag down on his desk. The window behind him looked out over the campus to the west, weathered buildings down a broken street, beyond which the facility power station glinted brightly in the morning sun, contrasting with the massive Soviet SIGINT headquarters building behind it, which was dark and all but windowless and therefore opaque, its twisted and ruined satellite dishes on the roof completing the image.
As he helped his boss remove his body armor, Zack scanned the area out the window further, because that was the only real danger in the room. He’d positioned four static security guys on the rooftops of nearby buildings so he’d know if anyone got near the campus who didn’t belong. Still, he put Anton’s armor on a leather sofa, open and ready for quick deployment.
Anton sat down, Hightower moved out of the way as Kimmie brought her boss a cup of matcha tea, and then the American moved to the wall, widening his stance and interlocking his fingers in front of him.
As Kimmie left the room after a friendly greeting to Zack, Anton noticed his head of security standing against the wall. “You’re going to be staying extra close today?”
Hightower said, “I won’t disturb you.”
To this, the New Zealand native laughed. “It’s fine, but don’t stand there like a statue. Makes me nervous. Have a seat on the couch.”
