“But he didn’t,” Quinn said.
“No.”
“Let me guess. Politics.”
“Right on one. And you want to guess who he chose for a mentor?”
“Surprise me.”
“Hugo Chavez.”
“Great,” Quinn said, meaning anything but.
Chavez was the egomaniacal, anti-anything-that-didn’t-promote-him leader of Venezuela. A man who had basically made himself president for life despite the occasional election, and who relished seeing others follow in his footsteps, as long as they remembered he was the one giving them the hand up.
“At Chavez’s urging, Romero decided to make a run for president. Some of the polls even had him comfortably ahead. How reliable they were, who knows? But apparently just the thought of him winning was something that couldn’t be tolerated.”
“Hence the termination order. CIA?”
“Not exactly, though I’m sure our intelligence community helped guide the decision.”
“Who, then?”
“Basically from what I can tell, an unofficial subcommittee of the Organization of American States.”
The OAS was made up of representatives from North America, South America, and the Caribbean. Their stated mission was one of supporting other member nations in areas such as human rights and democracy. Assassination, Quinn was sure, wasn’t on their official list of good deeds.
“So they’re the ones who hired Peter?” he asked.
“That’s what it looks like.” She hesitated, like there was something more.
“What is it?” he prodded.
“I, um, played a hunch. I’m not sure if it means anything, but the body on Nate’s last job-Senator Lopez-he was serving in the Mexican delegation to the OAS four years ago.”
Quinn felt a familiar burn at the base of his neck. “As what?”
“Special envoy for the president of Mexico.”
“Isn’t that what the Mexican representative to the OAS is supposed to be?”
“One would assume.”
“What were Lopez’s duties?”
“The few places I was able to check had no information. I’ve put out some discreet feelers, so maybe something will come back. But I don’t think it matters.”
“Why not?”
“When I found out about Lopez’s tie to the OAS, I checked around to see if there were any other OAS or former OAS personnel missing or recently dead. I focused on people who would have access to the highest levels of their government.” She paused. “I found three others for sure, all whose bodies have turned up in the last three weeks-a former ambassador in Chile, an economics expert in Brazil, and member of the Canadian parliament. There could be more, but it seemed unnecessary to keep searching.”
If Orlando’s theory was right, each was a member of a secret council of death who passed judgment on Romero, and then hired the Office to carry out the termination. That in and of itself was not surprising. They wouldn’t have been any different than the clients on most of the other jobs Quinn had worked on over the years, but the fact that members of that council were now being eliminated was unusual. Especially when you took into account the kidnappings-or worse-of the people they’d hired.
“Any idea who’s behind it?” he asked. “Could it be some of Romero’s former colleagues carrying out revenge on those responsible for their friend’s death?”
“Well, there’s no actual proof Romero did die.”
Quinn stared at her, wide-eyed. “Wait. What?”
“He was shot and severely injured, but he wasn’t killed outright.”
“Are you saying he’s still alive?”
“I’m saying I don’t know for sure. There were reports for a while about surgeries and hospital vigils. Then the election went on without him, and eventually he was no longer in the news.”
Quinn leaned back in his chair. “Peter’s notation in the file. The complication.” Another thought clicked in his mind. “
“Right. And since this was probably pretty high-profile, not fulfilling his mission wouldn’t have gone down well.”
“That’s why he was blackballed. Has to be. And that’s what Peter was noting. The screwup.” He glanced over at her again. “No follow-ups with Romero? No ‘victim goes home to die’ or ‘miraculous recovery’?”
“Nothing. Zero. No reports at all.”
“Come on. Someone had to be keeping tabs on him.”
“Maybe, but it’s a small country, remember? While the international press shined its light in the island’s direction for a little while after the assassination attempt, as soon as a bigger story came along somewhere else, they were gone.”
“What about the local press?”
“State controlled. Not all democracies are created equal.”
“What about the Office? If they failed the first time, Peter must have sent a second team in.”
“I checked the file. Though it doesn’t say anything about Romero surviving, there’s a notation on one of the log sheets of a second team being put together after the date of the initial job. But the mission was apparently cancelled before the team could leave.”
“By who?”
“Client.”
“My guess is that if Romero didn’t die, he was messed up enough that the committee that ordered his hit lost the taste for blood.”
That must have pissed Peter off, Quinn thought. But as annoying as it might have been, Peter would have been hesitant to counter the people who had paid him.
“Here’s another little tidbit for you,” Orlando said. “David Harris is a former freelance soldier who did a lot of mercenary work in Africa and South America. Not always on the side our government would like.”
“He’s politically motivated?”
She shook her head. “The person I heard from said he never gave a damn what someone believed. If the paycheck was big enough, that’s all that mattered. Said that as he got older, he branched out a bit, and eventually hooked up with Romero through some of Chavez’s contacts.”
“So, is Harris working for Romero to honor Romero’s memory?” Quinn asked.
“I don’t think this guy would honor anyone’s memory but his own.”
“Romero’s alive, then.”
“That would be my guess.”
“Any leads on Harris’s location?”
“Nothing yet, but if we find one, I have a feeling we’ll find the other.”
Quinn nodded. It was exactly what he was thinking.
They landed at St. Renard International Airport, Isla de Cervantes’s main entry point just outside the capital city of Cordoba, at three a.m.
After their conversation at the start of the flight, Orlando had taken a nap while Quinn sat silently, his eyes closed, but his mind unable to shut down. Romero, with the apparent help of Harris, had been having the members of the OAS committee who’d sentenced him to death killed, but the members of the ops team-at least in Nate’s and Peter’s cases-they’d kidnapped. Why the difference?
He considered the possibility that each was taken to someplace quiet where a bullet was put in their skull, but that didn’t make sense. Peter was removed from his home, where he’d apparently been in bed. Why waste time dragging him out of the building, and possibly exposing themselves, instead of terminating him on the spot?
