To The Lions - 02 (26 page)

Outside
the outer fence, the occasional car sped by, its occupants surely blissfully
unaware that only a few hundred meters away existed an entirely different
universe.
  
A universe of rape and
extortion.
 
A universe where certain
tattoos were the equivalent of senatorial power.
 
A universe that cared only about itself and
its occupants, ignoring the realities and reason of the outside world.

He
moved to one end of the fence before turning halfway around.
 
This would keep his right side to the fence
and would only be visible to the lone guard in the center tower.
 
And unless that guard was viewing Gage
through a high-powered scope, Gage saw no way he could see the flesh-colored
earpiece device he’d just slid into his right ear.

As
he ambled slowly, making sure to turn his head and eyes naturally (a person
with a still head looks quite unnatural) Gage reached into his pocket, blindly
dialing the number he’d been told to memorize.

A
European ring tone was then heard, tinny and distant.
 
One ring.
 
Three rings.
 
Five rings.
 
Eventually, just as he’d been told, a person
answered but said nothing.
 
Then Gage
spoke the code he’d been instructed on, using Spanish.
 
“Buenos días, es esta la farmacia?”
 

As
promised, the caller on the other end of the line didn’t even respond.
 
They simply hung up.
 
Gage counted as he walked the fence back to
where he’d started.
 
By the time he
reached sixty-five, the phone in his pocket vibrated.
 
Gage tapped the earpiece and whispered,
“Bueno?”

“Señor
Harris.”
 
It was Navarro.

“Sí.”

“Are
you secure?”

“I’m
in the yard.
 
I may sound strange because
I don’t want to fully move my lips.
 
Can
you understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes,
it’s quite clear.”

Ahead
of Gage, a small man in dark sunglasses sat alone at a picnic table reading a J.T.
Ellison paperback.
 
While he read, he
scratched his chin, his hand moving slowly up his face before scratching his
shaved head.

“Señor,”
Gage whispered, keeping his eye on the reader but not yet thinking anything of
him.
 
“Things here are not as all as you
thought.”

“In
what way?”

“For
starters, your son is aligned with Los Leones.”
 
Gage took ten more steps before hearing a response.
 

“That’s…that’s
impossible.”

“He
told me so.
 
And I’ve hardly seen him
when he wasn’t surrounded by members of Los Leones.
 
He’s also confronted me several times,
telling me he doesn’t want my help and that
he
is protecting
me
.
 
In fact, I was in a fight and Cesar
intervened.
 
He’s told me that my
protection won’t last much longer.”

Spanish
curses, spoken in anguish, could be heard.
 
Footsteps were also audible before he heard Navarro snap his fingers and
dismiss Valentin.
 
The background sound
changed to slightly fuzzy, denoting a breeze.
 
“Has someone there turned you?” Navarro asked.

Gage
stopped momentarily, glancing up to the sky as he felt a throbbing begin in his
temples.
 
“No one has turned me.
 
I speak only the truth.”

“If
what you say is true—”

“It
is
true.”

“Then
something more sinister than I feared is going on,” Navarro said, sounding out
of breath.
 
“Cesar doesn’t have the
shrewdness to be a true León.
 
If they’ve
brought him into their fold, it’s being done as a ruse, as a trap.
 
You
must
tell him this.”

“He
won’t listen to me.
 
He doesn’t even know
me.”
 
Gage let that settle for a
moment.
 
“Why don’t you tell him?
 
You could come here and see him face to
face.”

Out
on the road, two loud trucks rumbled by, forcing Gage to tell Navarro to
wait.
 
When they had passed, Navarro
responded.
 
“As I explained before you
went there, I am doing all I can to sanitize my operations, to be legitimate as
the saying goes.
 
But it’s Los Leones who
have made things the most difficult for me.
 
They’ve beaten and killed my men in all corners of Catalonia.
 
They’ve robbed my concerns.
 
They’ve spread disinformation about my
empire, all to their own end.
 

“While
I have not operated by the letter of the law, my organization has always been
honorable.
 
Those who strayed from my ethical
code were dealt with, and harshly.
 
But
Los Leones kills the way you and I breathe.
 
They do it from instinct.”

Movement
caught the corner of Gage’s eye.
 
The man
at the picnic table had spun so he straddled the bench with both legs, trying
to appear natural as a man simply shifting his position.
 
Now, as Gage changed direction, the man
flipped back around, still holding his paperback.
 
Gage could hear Navarro saying something, but
he was too zoned in on the reading man.
 
Now he’s putting his hand on top of his head
and rubbing his scalp.
 
Gage slyly
followed his gaze, seeing a man on the far wall casually mimic the
gesture.
 
Then, at the main door, Gage
could see El Toro, his musculature obvious even at such a distance.
 

All
three men were members of Los Leones.

Gage
rapidly blinked his eyes as if there was dust blowing.
 
But there was no dust.
 
Permutations of possibilities took place in
his mind.
 
He’d just seen a simple code
relayed, that was for certain.
 
The reader
from the picnic table ambled away, doing a quick rendition of a flamenco dance
with stuttered, strutting steps while keeping his hands at his waist.
 
When he reached his relay man they shared a
laugh, performing some sort of ritualistic handshake.

“Señor
Harris?” Navarro persisted.
 
Gage was too
deep in thought to acknowledge him.

Studying
the angle of the relay—edge of yard, center yard with an eye to doorway, inside
of doorway—Gage pondered the reasons for the message.
 
It had to be his own actions, talking on this
phone.
 
Did they aim to steal it?
 
Certainly a possibility—a phone in prison
would be one of the most treasured items a prisoner could own.
 
But if that were the case with Los Leones,
why didn’t they just come take it?

“Señor
Harris!” Navarro yelled.

Startled
by the shout, Gage’s said, “Señor, where are you?”

“That’s
not pertinent.”

Gage’s
voice became a razor.
 
“The phone you’re
talking on, the satellite phone…”

“What
about it?”

“You
devised the farmacia-wrong-number code solely for the purpose of knowing when
to turn on the satellite phone, correct?”

“Yes,
of course.”

“Is
the man with the phone I called, the first number, is he there?”

“No.
 
He’s hundreds of kilometers away.
 
As I’ve told you, I take great precautions.”

They’re after the satellite phone’s
signal.
 
Shit!

“Why
do you ask?”

“The
house we met in, the one on the coast under the cliffs, does anyone know where
it is?”

“That
wasn’t my regular home, Señor Harris, it was a rental I use on occasion.
 
I’ve insulated myself to the point that I
bring no one to my permanent homes other than Valentin.”

Gage
rubbed the stubble of his face.
 
“What
about your son, does he know where you are now?”

“Only
Valentin knows where I regularly stay,” Navarro said with emphasis.
 
“As I told you about Cesar—we’ve been
estranged for many years, since I began to legitimize my operation.”

“Have
you ever visited him here?”

“Yes,
once.”

“Was
the visit announced?”

“Of
course not.
 
And I took great precautions
upon leaving there not to be followed.”

Swallowing,
his tongue feeling as thick as a tire tread, Gage said, “Los Leones, would they
profit from knowing where you are?”

“You
know they would.”

“But
to be clear, are they looking for you?”

“Everyone
is.
 
It’s why I live the way I do.”

“You
compromised me, señor, by telling me none of this.
 
You didn’t tell me about the others you had
inserted before me, and you certainly didn’t tell me about the fact that Los Leones
are looking for you.”

“What
are you saying?”

“Have
your acusador get me out of here today.”

“What?”

“Today.
 
But before you do that—right damned now—hang
up that satellite phone, remove the battery, and run like hell.
 
Change your position.”

“But
it’s untraceable.”

“Nothing
is untraceable,” Gage snapped.
 
“Do as I
said and change your position immediately!”

“You’re
actually serious,” Navarro said.

“Of
course I am.
 
They
know
I’m on the phone.
 
They
waited for us to speak and someone is now tracking your signal.
 
Disconnect the battery and go!”

“This
is nonsense.
 
This phone cannot be traced.”

“Go
now!”

“Keep
that phone on,” Navarro said.
 
Then the
line went dead.
 

Gage
surveyed the yard.
 
There were at least a
hundred men outside and no one seeming to be paying him any notice.
 
Inside the three outer guard towers, Gage saw
one guard casually smoking a cigarette.
 
The other two, leaning over their respective railings, radios in front
of them, seemed to be having a conversation, a funny one judging by their
laughter.

Am I just being paranoid?

Crossing
the yard, Gage stepped inside the main bay to see Cesar, standing in the center
of the cavernous room.
 
A shit-eating
grin dominated his ratlike face and his arms were straight out to his side—he
could have easily been taking an ovation after an opening night on Broadway.
 
Around him, Los Leones slapped him on the
back, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him with their congratulations.

It
was a scene of jubilation.

A
cold shiver passed through Gage.

* * *

Morón
Air Base, near Seville, Spain

Minutes
earlier, in the southern province of Andalusia, an old-fashioned pager vibrated
in General Brian Yelding’s pocket.
 
The
pager had been modified to vibrate twice as hard as a normal pager would—so
there was no mistaking its presence when it performed as designed.
 
Yelding had just taken a bite of a late lunch
when he felt the buzzing.
 
The vibration
scared him at first but the fear quickly turned to thrill.
 
The general was about to get paid.

He
excused himself from the table of officers, stepping outside into the hot
afternoon and dialing a number.
 

“Got
it?” Yelding asked, breathless.
 
He
listened for a moment.
 
“No…no
coordinates.
 
The person I’m dealing with
wouldn’t know a frigging coordinate from the length of his dick.
 
Just give me the exact address.”

Yelding
waited.
 
After a moment he scribbled the
address on a scrap of paper, tucking it into his shirt pocket.
 
He listened to the defense satellite engineer
before saying, “You’ll get paid when I do.
 
And just remember who we’re dealing with here.
 
Don’t tell your wife, your buddies,
anyone.
 
And don’t deposit the money,
either.”
 
He hung up.

Yelding
then went through the folders of his phone, finding the number on a note he’d
created.
 
He slid the cursor over the
number, dialing it.
 
The phone was
answered immediately.