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  CHAPTER 27

  Jessica quickly retreated to the vacant PA’s office slowly closing the door behind her. From her back pocket, she took out a micro-sized spy-cam attached with a foldable wire with a screen at the other end. It was tiny enough to pass through the gap between the floor and the wooded door. She carefully checked the lobby. On the screen she could see that it was still deserted, but there were murmurs. Someone was in Carpio’s office.

  The ambassador’s office door opened, and Jessica quickly retracted the tiny cam. Sitting in the darkness, she could hear two distinct voices in the hallway.

  “You don’t get it, you can’t kill him here, it will be a big international mess,” one of them said, his tone was polished but fearful.

  “We are here for a job and we’ll do it one way or the other. I have already sent one of our men outside disguised in Carlos’s jacket. The CCTVs have recorded the footage, so for the world Carlos left the embassy forty minutes after he arrived. About that bitch, omit any record that she was here today. She called in sick today and you have no idea where she is, this will be the story. Got it?” To Jessica it felt as if the Ambassador was still not convinced, because when the second man spoke again his tone was threatening. “I don’t know how you will do it, but shut the fuck up. Joaquin is not the one to tolerate dissent during a job, and I’m sure you would like to live.”

  The door opened again and closed. Jessica waited for a few minutes before putting in the tiny cam to check the lobby. It was deserted.

  She considered going out and checking the Ambassador’s office. After contemplating the pros and cons, she decided to go for it. With the SIG in her right hand, she stealthily made her way out to the lobby and placed herself silently outside the Ambassador’s office. There was no sound, maybe they had left. She carefully slipped the tiny lens under the wooden door, checking the screen as the cam moved left and right. The room was empty, and she couldn’t ascertain any booby traps. She wanted to go inside but then retreated to the PA’s room and switched on her mic to apprise others of the development.

  On the second floor, Wick had already finished scanning each room when he heard Jessica.

  “If they sent a man outside, that means we have fifteen men to deal with. Three are dead, so that leaves us with twelve hostiles plus the Ambassador,” Wick said.

  “Yes,” Jessica replied.

  “Stan, what’s your position?”

  “I’m holed up in a room in the south wing on my floor with no visibility of outside.”

  “Jessica, do one thing. Find the CCTV room on the first floor. Get Mac’s help to power the cams. Mac, once the cams are on, here’s what I want you to do next.” Wick took less than a minute to explain his improvised plan to the three of them, who couldn’t help but smile.

  CHAPTER 28

  “Where the hell is Matias?” Joaquin snapped to no one in particular. “He should have been back by now. If he cannot take care of a stupid woman, what is he good for?”

  They were in Carpio’s suite on the fourth floor. Carlos was with them, tied to a chair his face was bruised and his left eye was swollen.

  “Take a count of the men and ask Matias to report,” Joaquin ordered Felipe. “And what’s the status of the acid?”

  “Johan spoke with the driver. He is twenty minutes away,” Felipe said.

  “He has one thing to do and he still managed to fuck it up.” Johan wasn’t in the room and Felipe didn’t want to defend him. He also didn’t want himself to be a target of Joaquin’s ire, so he quietly asked his men to check in. All ten, except Matias and his two men, checked in.

  “Nicolás, find Matias. He was on the second floor. Take your men with you,” Felipe barked the order on the sat phone to the man on the third floor.

  Wick was hiding in the third office from the North Wing’s restroom on the second floor, belonging to someone named Mario Palazzo – the multilateral secretariat of the consulate, when he heard the fire exit door open and shut. His immediate reaction was to point his weapon at the door.

  They must be here for the three men who lay dead in the bathroom. It was the only possibility.

  Three distinct footsteps, checking every room, and calling the names of their colleagues. The footsteps slowly crept towards the room Wick was in. He waited, his Beretta ready. The footsteps got louder, and Wick’s posture tensed, bracing for the door to be flung open, followed by a reckless barrage of bullets.

  Someone stopped right outside his room. Wick saw the doorknob rotate. The gate opened, but then he heard a loud shout. Someone was calling the man standing outside his room. Maybe they had found the bodies because the door never opened fully and was left hanging midway. The man’s footsteps receded quickly down the corridor. If they had discovered the bodies, the next thing would be to inform Joaquin. Three dead men would cause a whole lot more damage than if they would have been alive. He couldn’t let it happen. He gently walked towards the opened door and peeked in the direction of the footsteps.

  One man was at the north wing’s bathroom door, two others were advancing towards it. Wick saw their postures changing as they peered inside. The one with cropped hair moved to take out his sat phone.

  From his protruding position, Wick instinctively leveled his Beretta and fired a round in the back of his skull. The sat phone fell to the floor. The man was dead before he even hit the floor. There was no blood, no spilled guts, no graphic explosion of gore. Just a well-placed shot crumpling the man, killing him instantly.

  The other two took a moment longer to react. Wick had already measured them. The one, nearest to the dead man and farthest from Wick seemed to be the dominant one in the pack. His erect stance, straight shoulders and confident body language made him the next target. He was already in motion, turning in Wick’s direction, simultaneously raising his weapon when the lead outdid him by a millisecond. But this gave the third assaulter time to find his aim. He shot at Wick while diving to his left, trying to find a vantage point. The bullet battered the door frame, a millimeter from where Wick’s head was. Splinters soared in the air. Wick threw the door wide open and dived outside the room. The move took the assaulter by surprise. He had expected Wick to duck inside and not dive outside. Wick lay sideways on the floor. His Beretta found its aim and coughed once. The advantage of those few milliseconds Wick gained due to the confusion in his opponent’s mind gave him enough time to pierce his right eye, finishing him off instantly. Three more dead.

  The Glocks and his Beretta had powerful silencers, but Wick wasn’t sure if they had muffled the sounds enough. He paused and listened closely for any signs of movement in the hall above.

  Then, he heard someone coming through the fire exit.

  CHAPTER 29

  Jessica was in the CCTV room when she heard the report of weapons. Gunfight on the floor above.

  “Wick, can you hear me?” She spoke into the microphone, worried that the shots she’d heard had been directed towards him. No response. Perhaps his mic was off.

  “Mac, I have done what you have asked me, now what?”

  “Now, we have to wait for the reboot process to finish.”

  “Wick’s comms is off. I’m going to check the second floor.”

  “Okay,” Mac responded.

  She slipped out of the room and then to the fire escape stairs. Her SIG sweeping from left to right, its suppressed barrel looking for possible targets. She paused at the fire exit door of the second floor waiting to hear something. She then opened it very slowly. The hallway was vacant. She moved on the carpet with soft steps, her eyes darting from one side to the other.

  “Stan, can you hear me?”

  “Yes. Were those gunshots?”

  “Yes. I’m looking into it.” There was only one way to know - search every room on the floor. She pushed the first door to her right, and it swung open. Inside, she found a center table with open peanut packets strewn on it and three chairs. In a corner, there were two duffel bags. She checked the bathroom next, it was
empty. The duffel bags had ID cards and some spare clothes. She also found a day old edition of El Universal—a well-known Venezuela daily.

  “Jessica!” Wick’s voice traveled over the static.

  “Second floor, first room to the right from the south fire escape stairs.”

  “Okay. Wait there, I am coming over.”

  Seconds later the door opened, and Wick appeared at the door.

  “What happened? I heard gunshots,” Jessica said

  “Had to take down three hostiles.”

  CHAPTER 30

  Stan had heard the distinct sound of shots being fired on the floor below his. And if he had heard them, so would have others. Sprinting footsteps in the lobby confirmed his suspicions and his heart raced. He didn’t know if they were coming for him or to the second floor.

  “You and you! Check each room,” someone yelled in the third floor’s lobby.

  Doors were being opened and shut in the lobby. There was no way Stan could face multiple hostiles alone in a confined space. He grabbed his SIG Sauer P320 from his waistband and threw it into the dustbin under the desk. He then grabbed the floor scrub brush and a tile cleaner solution from his cleaning bucket and went into the bathroom. It was a farfetched plan, but it was the best he could think of. He undid his ponytail, hiding his earpiece behind his long hair. Getting on his knees, he started rubbing the bathroom floor, but his ears remained glued to the main door. Seconds later, there was someone at the bathroom’s entrance.

  “Who are you? What are you doing here?”

  “Good morning, sir.” Stan turned his head and looked at the man, feigning surprise. He had a perfect getup. No one would have doubted him for a second in regular circumstances, but these were not normal circumstances.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Cleaning... tiles….” Stan stuttered in broken English.

  “Everyone has left for the day. ” the man growled.

  Stan gave him a bewildered look. “But the supervisor told me nothing. My walkie is also not working.”

  “How long have you been in this room?”

  “This is my fourth room, sir,” Stan lied.

  “Did you hear anything?”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Your work is over. Get up and get out.”

  “But... sir...”

  “But what?”

  “Nothing.” He put the cleaner and the brush back in his bucket. “Wash hands?” He raised his hands, palms out.

  The man nodded.

  Stan turned on the faucet and put his hands under the running water. He glanced in the mirror and saw the man talking to someone on his phone while watching Stan.

  “Good night, sir.” He wiped his hands at the back of his pants. The man was still on the phone. Stan crossed him and left the room. The lobby was deserted, but multiple rooms were open.

  He turned to his left towards the nearest stairs to the second floor.

  “He is from the cleaning crew,” Stan heard the man saying it to someone on the other side of his conversation. He had found a window of opportunity and he had to use it. He started to walk briskly towards the stairs when he heard someone stepping in the lobby behind him.

  “Hey.” Someone yelled and Stan had to stop. One more person stepped in the lobby behind the first man, trying to hide his gun holster. Stan instinctively caught his motion, but realized at once that he shouldn’t have done that. The motion was instinctive but not so overt that a civilian would have paid any heed to it. Stan wasn’t a civilian. He knew what he was looking for. The first one caught Stan’s gaze but said nothing. It was a micro-expression that could be misconstrued easily. “Who are you?” he asked instead.

  “I am…” Stan started to relay his scripted line when the man who’d found him came out of the room.

  “Change of plans. You are coming with us?”

  “Where… sir?” Stan stuttered.

  “Johan, search him.” He ordered one of the two men. The man named Johan stepped forward. Stan knew he would find nothing. The SIG was already disposed of.

  Johan carefully patted him down. “He’s clean.”

  Stan remained silent all along cooperating with them. His every move was under scrutiny.

  “Stan?” His earpiece suddenly mumbled, and he instinctively jerked his right hand upwards but the man standing next to him caught his wrist midway. Guns were now pointing at his forehead.

  “Johan, check if there is anything in that room.” Johan followed orders. Then without warning, the man hit Stan’s left knee pit and he stumbled onto the floor.

  “This is a nice gun.” Johan was smiling at the door. He had Stan’s discarded SIG Sauer P320 in his hand.

  “Forgetting something?” The man who had just hit him, pointed his gun’s barrel at Stan’s head giving a cold grin.

  Wick and Jessica heard Stan’s cries on their earpieces and knew they had to do act fast.

  CHAPTER 31

  “What happened?” Mac too sensed something was wrong.

  “We don’t know for sure. Worst case, they have taken Stan. Whatever it is, we have no time before they come for us. Change the frequencies of the channel. If they get hold Stan’s device, we’ll still be able to talk to each other,” Wick said.

  “Okay.”

  “Where are we on the CCTV?”

  “Jessica has restarted it, but the system is bloody ancient - taking ages to reboot. Will need some more time.”

  “Okay, once the cams are online, find out where they have taken Sam,” Wick said.

  “On it.”

  “Talk to you soon.”

  CHAPTER 32

  “We have an infiltrator.”

  Felipe brought his phone to his ear. “Say again.”

  “We have an infiltrator on the third floor.”

  “Who?”

  “He pretended to be from the cleaning crew, but we’ve found an earpiece and a gun from him.”

  Felipe looked at Joaquin, who signaled to bring Stan to the room. Felipe relayed the message.

  No one knew about this operation except Joaquin’s men and Henrique. Even Carpio had only been given information on a need-to-know basis, so the leak couldn’t have come from him. He stared at Carlos who looked defeated. It couldn’t be him either. Then how had this man gotten in?

  The door opened and three of his men brought in a man in cleaning crew uniform. His left eye was swollen and there was a fresh cut on the right side of his lip. The man seemed beaten, yet there was hope in his eyes. Joaquin couldn’t fathom why.

  Carlos let out an audible gasp. Stan observed him from the corner of his eye. His face was an image of defeat. He had accepted his own death hours ago, perhaps the moment he met Joaquin. He was staring into the distance. Terrified. Shaking.

  Stan slyly observed the rest of the room. Six people in total, including the Ambassador. All carrying Glocks except Carpio. Two twelve-gauge pump action shotguns lay on the bed. The man with the scar stood tall among them. Joaquin Thomas.

  “Who are you?” Joaquin demanded.

  “I am from the cleaning crew,” Stan spoke with a fake Austrian accent. The longer he could continue with his act, the more time he could gain for Wick and Jessica.

  “From when did the cleaning crew come to work with a gun and a listening device?” Joaquin laughed hard and then bent to grab Stan’s throat. “Listen, shithead, if I have to ask this question one more time, I’ll pump so much lead into your skull that your bosses will not even recognize you. You understand me?” He brought his face close to Stan’s and uttered each syllable, “Do you understand me?”

  The man wasn’t bluffing, Stan knew that. He contemplated his position. He had to decide and had to decide quickly. Joaquin’s stare turned murkier. He could see that Stan was thinking of something. He raised Stan’s SIG and before Stan could even react, squeezed the trigger. The 9mm lead tore into his thigh muscle and Stan screamed his guts out.

  “Who. Are. You?” Joaquin asked again.

>   “I…” Stan’s breathing was heavy.

  He tried to keep a brave face, but it was tough. Especially when, for the first time in his life, he was certain he was going to die.

  BAM. BAM. The second floor was rocked by two gunshots.

  CHAPTER 33