Katie said, “All that comes to mind is close of business.”
“Business hours?” said Kyle. “He’s a money launderer. White-collar crooks don’t keep hours.”
“Doesn’t he?” Katie countered. “He’s a banker—just one that went to the dark side.”
“Okay, so when do banks close in Morocco?” Craterly wondered aloud. “Or maybe he’s talking about Switzerland.”
“Doesn’t matter, banks close at the same time in Tangier and Zurich.” Kyle pointed to the screen—he’d already posed the question and MAADN had delivered a definitive answer. “At fourthirty today in Tangier, at whatever backup meeting place he was given by his handler, Klaus is going to show.”
“Which is less than an hour from now,” Katie said.
“Shit!” Kyle exclaimed.
There was no time for debate. No time for more research. Kyle reached for the nearest phone and called Mary Pat Foley.
50
Safe House
The Medina
Tangier, Morocco
1553 Local Time
“We have thirty-seven minutes, people!” Clark shouted. “We need to be in position before that!”
All around the room the team was scrambling. Ding and Charlie were bleary-eyed, having been roused from a sound sleep. Boots were laced up and comm gear donned. The mics they were using clipped inside their shirt collars and the earpieces were virtually invisible. Everyone concealed their preferred sidearm beneath loose clothing.
Soon the team was gathered around their master map on the dining room table—a compilation of surveillance images sent by CC6 that had been spit out by a portable printer and taped together.
Clark thumped his index finger on ground zero, an expansive public plaza that fronted the city’s main beach. “La Corniche,” he said. “It’s wide open and nearly a mile long. That’s going to make concealment difficult.”
“Did the message say where exactly?” Ding asked.
“No,” answered Wu, who’d been interacting directly with ODNI. “Since it was a backup meet, the assumption was a high-threat environment. They wanted big spaces without a specific point. That makes it harder for the other team to surveille without blowing cover.”
“But equally hard for the blue team to join up and disappear after contact is made.”
“That’s our battlefield, like it or not,” Clark intervened. “It’s a ten-minute walk from here. We move in our pre-briefed pairs. Charlie, you relocate the van here for extraction. Park and dark.” He pointed to a parking lot near a marina on the west side. Park and dark meant no engine running and all lights off. “Plan B is to rally back here. Bauer, you and Toussaint bracket west, somewhere near the marina with good angles. Hyori and Wu take the east side. Ding and I will flush from the middle.”
In the matter of pairing the teams, Clark had seen few options. Wu was of Chinese heritage, Hyori South Korean. Diversity could be an asset in many scenarios, but for a walk through the streets of Tangier common sense dictated putting the two Asians together. Charlie, as the intel specialist, would maintain comm with headquarters, who hopefully could provide real-time backing.
“Everyone stays across the street from the plaza for as long as possible,” Clark went on. “It’s a mix of commercial and residential, so it’ll be busy this time of day. Eyes open for both Klaus and possible Russians.”
Charlie said, “That might be a tall order. This is a tourist area, and there were probably a good number of Russian civilians around before any of this hit.”
“True. But given our elevated levels of experience and cunning, I think we can distinguish between GRU thugs and kids who came here to dodge the draft.”
Sixty seconds later they were out the door. The three teams made a staggered departure, Clark and Chavez bringing up the rear. Charlie got stuck with cleanup duty—with any luck at all, the task force wouldn’t return.
She collected all their uneaten food and trash, planning to dispose of it in a dumpster at least a block away. She filled one duffel with their slim personal effects. A few clothes and toiletries, the maps, two laptops. The place wasn’t exactly spotless, but the maid who came to clean the rental unit in three days would smile when she walked in.
Charlie locked the door on her way out, the keys to the Sprinter van in her pocket and her phone buzzing with new messages.
—
The sea sparkled in the late-day sun, languid and calm. As if the trouble brewing along the shoreline didn’t exist.
