The man tried to protest but the gag swallowed most of the sound.
“Buenos días, my friend,” Jesús said.
“Hello, Jesús. To what can I attribute the honor of this call?”
“Well, there are three matters to discuss.”
“Go on.” He snipped off the end of the thread.
“First, a certain performer has been looking into his friend’s death. I believe you know him? From last fall?”
“Banks.”
“Yes. I thought it’d be best to keep tabs on him, so I have two men tailing him. I’ll let you know if anything comes up that might be of interest to you.”
“Thank you.”
“Second. The time frame. Are we still on schedule for tonight?”
“We’re still looking at a launch time of 8:46.”
“You’re confident that you’ll have what you need by then?”
“Yes.”
“Perfect. Alright, finally, then, Tomás has been taken care of.”
“Is that so.”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s good to hear.”
“Focus on the engineer.”
“Don’t worry.” He let his eyes travel to the blood dripping onto the plastic sheet beneath the chair. “I am.”
Officer Shepard followed Banks’s sports car down the Strip.
Eventually, it stopped at the Arête.
He watched as Banks handed his keys to the valet parking attendant, went around the side, and opened the door for Antioch. Then the two of them swept off into the resort.
“I guess we’re gonna have valet parking today too,” he said to his partner, stepping out of the car and handing over the keys to the sedan. “Let’s go.”
I glance at Charlene. “Okay. There’s no sign of them. I think we’re good.”
I’m standing beside my library window, scrutinizing the neighborhood.
Fifteen minutes ago we’d watched as Seth and Nikki left the house dressed in our clothes.
Without a show tonight, the two of them had some free time, and since I’m paying them anyway, I decided they could hang out at the Arête as long as we needed them to.
On our way back to the house from the alley, Xav and I had picked them up and hid them in the back of the RV.
Body doubles can come in very handy.
Everybody should have one.
Now it’s time to get some answers without anyone peeking over our shoulders.
Though the kids are upstairs — Lonnie doing homework, Donnie playing video games, the girls making Valentine’s Day cards — I close the library door to give us a little added privacy.
Xavier is on his laptop surfing the Internet, and suddenly he exclaims, “Oh, this is not good.”
“What?”
“Tomás Agcaoili is dead. He was found in his cell about an hour ago.”
“You’re kidding.”
He surfs to another site, scrolls down, then taps the screen. “Hung himself with a belt.”
“What cop in his right mind would leave a belt in a cell with a prisoner?” I say, thinking aloud. “Wouldn’t they guess that he could use it for a noose?”
Fionna looks at us intensely. “The clot thickens.”
Close enough.
“Yes, it does,” I agree.
So, Tomás is dead.
A life for a life.
In a sense, justice for Emilio’s death has been meted out, but on another level it hasn’t been.
Someone hired Tomás to kill Emilio.
And that person is still out there.
Akinsanya?
It seems possible, likely even, but—
From out of nowhere another possibility comes to mind: What about Solomon? Could he have mentioned Akinsanya just to start you looking in the wrong direction?
He gave you both Akinsanya and Tomás. What if he’s playing both sides? He knew who you were, had to know the Feds are after Akinsanya. Is this all just window dressing to keep you away from the truth?
I find myself trying to piece everything together, but at least for the moment, it seems like a maze that I’m going through backward, looking for the start but running into dead ends with every turn I venture down.
You don’t have a show tonight.
Fred is working today.
You probably still have time before the blackmailer’s people are able to crack the security measures Fionna put on the drive.
“Any word yet on if that drive has been hacked into?” I ask her.
She shakes her head. “Good so far. I’ll be notified as soon as someone gets through the firewalls and attempts to access the files. Could be soon. Could be never.”
We have shift information and passcodes for accessing Building A-13 at Groom Lake.
If you’re going to do this, today is the day.
Now is the time.
Somehow all of this ties back to whatever lies in that building.
I turn to Xavier. “I think it’s time to call Fred.”
“And?”
“And see if he’ll help us get into Area 51.”
“Now you’re talking.” He draws out his cell and starts punching in numbers.
“Hang on,” Fionna says in her mom tone. “I’ve been thinking about this since you brought it up last night. Do you have any idea how absurd this plan is? Groom Lake is one of the most secure military installations on the planet.”
“True,” Xav acknowledges. “But we do have the security firm’s shift rotations and access codes. And we have a man on the inside.”
She doesn’t look convinced.
“Let’s at least see what Fred says, see if he found out what’s in this mysterious Building A-13.”
He puts the call through. We can only hear his side of the conversation; unfortunately, it doesn’t sound like he’s finding out what he was hoping to.
Finally, he hangs up. “Well, there’s some good news and some bad news. Actually, a couple pieces of both.”
“Start with some of the bad news,” Charlene says.
“He doesn’t know what’s in A-13. That’s bad, but it’s attached to a hangar, which means—”
“Experimental aircraft.”
“Most likely. Yes.”
“I’m confused”—it’s Fionna—“is that good news or bad news?”
“I call it good. But back to bad news: we’ll be needing a white 2012 Chevy Silverado or we’re never going to make it onto the property.”
“And the good news?” I ask.
“You have an American Express black card.”
Silverado
Jesús Garcia watched the news report about Tomás Agcaoili’s untimely death, then checked in with his associates in Las Vegas and found out that they had not made any progress in deciphering the USB drive yet.
The level of security convinced Jesús that the drive was authentic.
Well, the computer technicians who worked for the Los Zetas cartel knew what they were doing. They would get through the firewalls by tonight, and even if Colonel Byrne wasn’t successful in getting the information from the engineer, Jesús would still get the drone.
For years the cartels had been trying to get their hands on one of the US government’s drones. And now they would have one that was not only armed and able to autonomously target and fire on whoever the cartel decided were its enemies, it was also able to be controlled by the mere thoughts of a pilot on the ground.
And once they had it in hand, they would be able to reverse engineer it and develop their own fleet of drones to patrol the borders, the crops, the farms that they were hoping to control.