“Who’s hosting this meeting?” Asher asked.
“The Venezuelan Finance minister fled the country six months ago,” Kane explained. “He hasn’t been replaced. Right now, the provisional head of the Central Bank and the Chairman of Banco de la Gente are the hosts. According to the intel that finally fucking downloaded in the last two hours, these two ladies are straight arrows.”
“Okay, now that we know the politics and the players, where are they, and what is our role?” Asher smothered a grin—apparently, Ezio could only keep quiet for so long.
“Suzanne Azua is feeding information to us. She’s the head of Banco de la Gente, and she’s insisting it’s a fortress and has security that will help them. The bank is between the Central Bank and the Embassy.”
Kane let that sink in.
“Dammit, wasn’t this supposed to go under the radar because they were having this meeting during Carnival?” Max glowered.
“That was the hope.” Kane agreed. “The good news is, according to the intel, whoever has Central bank surrounded isn’t making any overt moves. Which is interesting because the back wall has been demolished.”
“Why aren’t they going in right this minute?” Leo asked Kane.
“It’s either they’re waiting for tomorrow tonight,” Kane said as he looked at his watch. “I mean tonight—that’s when Carnival really takes off. Or they can’t get ahold of Maduro.”
“Is it tonight or tomorrow night?” Nic asked.
“Today is Friday,” Raiden said for Kane. “The beginning of Carnival might start at sundown tonight, but they’ve been getting ready for this for a week. The party will go on until Sunday morning. Everybody will be hungover for church,” Raiden chuckled.
“So, they have the cover of darkness and no witnesses now. If they’re not holding out for Maduro’s say-so, why not right now?” Leo persisted.
“They’d be seen for sure. Raiden’s right, people are out setting up.” Kane explained. “The secret police don’t want to be that obvious.”
“People are already setting up? At two-thirty in the morning before the event?” Nic asked incredulously.
“You’ve never been to Mardi Gras, have you?” Cullen asked.
Nic shook his head.
“They take this shit seriously. But is it going to turn into anti-government protests?” Cullen asked Kane.
Asher saw Leo shift, bending his leg. It looked like his mobility was improving.
Kane rubbed the back of his neck. “It did last year, Cullen. My sources aren’t sure. Here’s our problem. The coalition’s security team was going to pick us up, but that’s out. What’s left of them are at the Central Bank. Suzann Azua is sending people she trusts to meet us. She swears we can depend on them.”
Everyone, including Max, looked at Kane incredulously. “Civilians?” Max demanded.
“We don’t have any choice,” Kane said.
“Do you think they wear capes?” Cullen asked. “I can see it now, staid little banker suits, their hair in buns, but when they’re called into action, they shake out their hair, rip off their skirts to show garter belts—”
“Shut up, you idiot,” Raiden growled. “You’re getting on my last nerve.”
Asher saw that Kane was trying to cover a grin. Then he started speaking again.
“Look, even if they are banker ladies, they’re all we’ve got. The security team is either stuck at the Central Bank guarding the Banking Coalition, or they died at the Embassy. Carter from CIA is coordinating with Azua and a couple of others that he thinks are worth a damn in this type of situation.”
“Who are they?” Max demanded to know.
“We’ve got three to choose from. The first two are Heinrich Becker and Leland Hines. Leland’s the CEO of USForce Bank. He’s kept his head and he and the translator have helped keep the others calm. Hines’s been around the block a time or two, he was with the SAS thirty years ago. Doubt that kind of training ever goes away.”
Everybody nodded. They had all served with the British special forces before—they were good men and women.
“And the translator, what’s he like?” Ezio asked.
“Her. Eden York,” Kane answered. “Azua and Hines have taken the leadership roles, but they couldn’t have done it without York. She’s the glue. She keeps the communication going. All I’ve got is the resume and application she gave to the International Money Fund three years ago. No background check. She speaks six languages, has degrees in political science and animal services. She was born and raised in Montana and went to school in Idaho.”
“And the third?”
“Heinrich Becker. He has degrees and awards coming out his ass. He’s been in charge of the International Money Fund for over ten years. It’s amazing they’ve kept his involvement under the radar. Ten bucks says he takes the lead on all of this.” Kane finally took a breath and sighed, knowing some smartass question was coming from Cullen, and he was not wrong.
“So, what should we expect from Super Banker Babes? Are they meeting us at the rendezvous point?” Cullen asked.
Kane nodded his head.
“Yes, you’re going to see your ladies in garters and capes. Basically, there have only been two little changes to our mission. Instead of meeting with a security team, we’ll be meeting with the SBB’s. Then instead of taking the Banking Coalition from the embassy to the airport, we’ll be taking them from the Central Bank.”
Asher rubbed the back of his neck, then winced when his hand touched his bump—okay, goose-egg. There were a hell of a lot more than two little changes, and the way Kane couldn’t meet anyone’s glance proved it. This mission was FUBAR. If someone died when they were out in the field, then the mission was Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition, full-stop! Let’s not also forget Leo is more than likely out of commission. Then, and he hated to admit it, he was not
