“What’s wrong?” Benicoff asked, worried. “Isn’t it what we were expecting, what we were looking for?”
Brian looked up and smiled.
“Bingo,” he said, and stabbed his finger down on F12.
18
November 21, 2023
Dermod led the way back down the hall, but stopped when he reached the outside door.
“Mr. Saldana — could I ask you a question?” he said.
“Of course.”
“Did you have other cars tailing us, keeping an eye on our rear?”
“No. I did not think it was needed.” The Mexican detective frowned. “Why? Did you see one?”
“I thought I did for a while, but it turned off when we crossed Independencia.”
“And another car might have picked up the trail?”
“Always a possibility.”
None of them were smiling now. Brian looked from face to strained face, his hands plunged deep into his pockets — with one of the GRAMs clutched tightly in each. “What’s up?” he asked.
“Nothing — we hope,” Daniel said, then snapped a quick command in Spanish to his companion, who eased out the door and closed it behind him.
“Do you want to shout for help?” Ben asked.
Daniel shook his head no. “The uniforms here are tourist police. I can get trained people — but not quickly. If there is anyone out there and we wait for reinforcements — they might be doing the same thing. We are to take you to the border at San Ysidro — is that correct?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Then I say do it and do it fast. Your Mr. Doe here will be in the second car with you driving, Ben. My associate and I will lead the way. What do you say?”
“We go,” Dermod said. “But I’ll be driving the second car, since I know TJ, Tijuana, very well. If there’s trouble we are not stopping for you.”
Daniel flashed a large toothy grin. “It would be unprofessional to do anything else.”
The outside door opened an inch — then stopped. Brian blinked and realized that all three of the men were now holding healthy-sized pistols in their hands. Pointed at the door. There was a quick whisper in Spanish from outside and Daniel pushed his gun into his waistband.
“Venga. Tell us in English, what did you see?”
“Nothing in the street in either direction.”
“We’re going out fast,” Daniel said. “There may be something out there — or nothing. We don’t take chances — we act like there is something. Stay thirty meters behind me all the way. No closer — or any further back. All the glass is bulletproof. Open the window if you have to fire. Let’s go.”
Ben sat on Brian’s left now. As soon as the door was closed Ray took out his heavy-barreled revolver and held it on his lap. Dermod started the engine and backed and turned until he was facing the exit, just behind the other car. He blinked his lights. The first car jumped forward and they were out of the drive and into the street.
Brian was looking at the lead car when it suddenly swerved; what appeared to be white dots appeared on the rear window. “Down!” Ray shouted, his hand on Brian’s shoulder pushing him painfully to the floor. Their own car swerved and the tires shrieked as they accelerated around the corner. There were two loud crashing sounds and a thud in the seat behind him. Followed by an ear-destroying series of explosions as the handgun fired through the open window. They shrieked a turn in the opposite direction and Dermod shouted back over his shoulder.
“Anyone in trouble back there?”
Ray glanced quickly at the other two. “We’re okay. What happened to the other car?”
“Rammed into a lamp pole. Did you hit anything?”
“Probably not. Just wanted to keep his head down. I saw someone leaning out of a window. Firing a rifle of some kind. High-velocity, the sort of a gun that can punch right through this kind of glass.”
He pointed to the rear window of the car, to the neatly drilled hole there. Brian looked on, horrified, as Ray poked his finger into a hole in the seat cushion. Where he had been sitting.
They rocketed around another corner, accelerated down the boulevard beyond. “Any tails?” Dermod called out.
“Negative. I think they had just enough time to set up the trap. Counted on that. Close too.”
“Then we change the route here,” Dermod said, braking hard and heading into a side street. Turning corners apparently at random through the quiet suburb.
“Sorry to push you, Brian — but you see why.” Ray’s gun was back in the holster and he gave Brian a tug back into the seat.
“There’s been a leak,” Benicoff said with cold anger. “They were waiting, followed us from the marina.”
“That’s the way I read it,” Ray agreed. “How many people know about our return plans?”
“Myself. You two. And the two FBI men who will be meeting us at the border.”
“Then we should be all right. How long, Dermod?”
“Five minutes more. I don’t think Saldana walked away from that one. Must have been two guns shooting at us at least.”
“I only saw the one.”
“One for the backseat passenger, one for the driver. I’ve got a nice little hole up here as well. Would have been centered if I hadn’t pulled the wheel when I saw the lead car hit. That Daniel Saldana was a good man.”
There was nothing that could be added to that. They drove in silence the rest of the brief trip. Some alarm must have gone out because when they came closer to the border they passed a motorcycle policeman who waved them on, then spoke into his radio when they had passed.
A few blocks further on they were picked up by a motorcycle escort which, with flashing lights and loud sirens, cleared a path through the traffic waiting to cross into the United States. Behind the customs buildings was a parking lot with an open gate through the fence, the entire area overlooked only by blank walls.
“Wait here,” Ray said. He and Dermod exited the car quickly, weapons drawn and pointed, looking slowly and carefully in all directions. “You can cross the lot now — and we’ll be right behind you.”
And they were, bodies between Brian and any possible threat.
“There’s our transportation,” Benicoff said. The only vehicle in the lot was an armored Brinks delivery truck; the back door opened when they approached and a uniformed guard got out.
“Get yourselves safely away from here,” Dermod said.
“You’re supposed to come with us,” Benicoff said.
“You won’t need us now. The President will want a complete report on this. Would you call our office, tell them what has happened? Tell them to let the plane know that we will be there by six at the latest.”
“It’ll be done.”
The two guardians did not wait around for thanks, were in the car and gone before anything more could be said. They turned and walked toward the armored truck.
“Afternoon, gentlemen,” the guard said. “It’s all yours.” He hadn’t seen the bullet holes in the car, did not know anything had happened. Benicoff started to explain, then realized there was no point to it.
“Good to see you,” he said. “We would like to get out of here.”
“On the way now.” After they had climbed in, the guard closed the door behind them, then went to the cab and took a seat next to the driver.
“That was pretty close,” Brian said.
“Too close,” Benicoff said grimly. “There must be a leak from the base, that’s all I can think of. The FBI had really better get cracking on this one. I’m sorry this happened, Brian. I can only blame myself.”
“You shouldn’t. You did everything you could. I’m sorry about your friend back there.”
“He was doing his job. A very good man. And we accomplished what we came here to do. You did find what you were looking for? Those GRAMs, are they copies of your work?”
Brian nodded his head slowly, finding it hard to forget what had just happened. “Yes, I’m pretty Sure of it. They looked like it when I flipped through, but there wasn’t enough time to be completely certain.”