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The unit was dark and empty—good news—and he quickly moved across to the balcony there. Looking out over the little buildings on the opposite side of Callejon Santa Elena, he went outside, then peered down to the street.
Zoya appeared behind him. “There’s movement in the stairwell, one pax, heading up. Probably just a neighbor,” she added.
It was not a neighbor, Court was certain, and he wondered if Zoya even believed what she was saying, or if she was simply trying to manifest the fact that nothing was amiss, because if something was amiss, then it likely meant Genrich had double-crossed her.
Without a word he rose and moved to the northern corner of the balcony; there was no lighting here, either from the building or on the street below. He kicked a leg over the low iron railing, then hung down. Dropping the last three feet to the sidewalk, he collapsed his body as he landed, then rolled onto his backpack to blunt the impact.
Court pulled his weapon and kept it down behind his leg as he stood up, looking around.
Quickly he clocked a black SUV parked a couple blocks down the street in front of a post office; its engine was off, its lights off, as well, its grille facing in the opposite direction.
But steam rose from the hood, as if the engine was warm.
The SUV must have just arrived.
It wasn’t far away, but it wasn’t right up on the apartment building, either. It was, in Court’s estimation, exactly where the wheelman for an assassination force might park his ride.
He whistled softly, his way of telling Zoya, still on the balcony, to look around. The wind swirled in the street, then blew hard; torn-away palm fronds skittered past, along with water picked up from the gutters.
Twenty seconds later Zoya dropped down next to him in the near pitch-black night, and then she rose and leaned into his ear. “The Tahoe?”
“Yeah. Not close enough to be part of the assault, but close enough for the exfil.”
Zoya said, “We’re getting ahead of ourselves. We don’t know—”
Court turned to her. Angrily, he said, “We don’t know, that’s the problem.”
Zoya sighed audibly. “Okay. Bus depot still?”
He shook his head. “Let’s go to the dock, get a boat to San Juan la Laguna, across the lake. The village is tiny, just one hotel. If anyone is after us we’ll know it instantly, and tomorrow we can get on a chicken bus to the capital.”
“The lake is that way.” She nodded towards the Tahoe. “You want to bypass the vehicle?”
Court said, “No. We’re running an SDR. Let’s see if the Tahoe is here for us. We move past it with our hoods over our heads. If they’re a bad actor, they won’t know it’s us, but they also won’t be able to rule out the possibility. They’ll have to follow. If they do, we slip away.”
The two of them began walking through the darkness as another gust of wind blew hard into their faces, causing them to hold on to their hoods.
•••
Carlos Contreras sat in the back of his Econoline, eyes riveted to the monitor in front of him that showed the image from his UAV, just now arriving over the target building. The feed wasn’t clear at all, this he saw instantly, so he switched to infrared.
He didn’t love his view. Between the water vapor gathering around the lens of the camera and the buffeting air at three hundred feet, the image from the drone was little more than a blur.
Still, he was up, and every few seconds the picture would focus for an instant and he could see the area below with some clarity.
Seconds later Contreras peered closer to the screen. He tapped a button on his keyboard, and the drone began broadcasting thermal images. He said, “Control, Zero One. I have two subjects moving southwest. Can’t fix facial recog on them because I’m on infrared. Plus, they’re wearing hooded raincoats.”
“On Callejon Santa Elena?”
“Affirmative.”
“Yes, we see them. One of our assets is in the SUV they’re about to pass. Stand by.”
Contreras waited several seconds, watching the pair of pedestrians, both wearing backpacks, as they moved down the street past an SUV. A moment later the German lady spoke again, her voice filling his earpiece.
“Zero One, Control. Our asset relays that’s two males. Negative ID on Zakharova. Stay over the target location.”
“Understood. No other movement out of area.”
