“You mentioned Cuba,” Mercer said to his old friend. “I think you’re on to something. The whole reason Khruschev put missiles there in the sixties was to get the United States to pull our recently deployed Atlas rockets out of Turkey. While history records that Bobby and Jack won the particular game of nuclear chicken, few people remember that shortly afterward we brought those missiles home. In effect, the Russians got exactly what they wanted. And apart from a few sleepless nights, it didn’t cost them anything.”
“You think China is putting missiles here only to offer to remove them again if America promises not to interfere with the takeover of Taiwan?”
“That’s precisely what I’m thinking,” Mercer answered Foch.
“But in our case, China is paying a very high price. They’re going to have to subsidize Panama with hundreds of millions of dollars once they take out the canal.”
“It won’t cost them a dime, Rene. They’re getting the right to plant nukes here and they’re paying for it with gold looted from an ancient treasure.”
“If Liu finds it.”
“You saw the equipment he had at the volcanic lake above the River of Ruin. He’ll find it.”
“And if it’s not there?”
Mercer looked him in the eye. “It’s there, all right. If I had a few hundred pounds of dynamite I could show it to you.”
“What?” the four men said as one.
“I know where the treasure is,” Mercer said coolly. “There’s a clue in the Lepinay journal that jogged my memory about something I saw at Gary’s camp. But that’s not important right now. We need to focus on Liu.”
It was testament to their professionalism that a billion dollars in gold and precious gems couldn’t hold their interest beyond a couple of sighs and a few thoughtful grunts.
“You’re right. The treasure can wait.” Bruneseau made his decision. “By identifying ICBM launchers at Hatcherly’s warehouse you’ve given me enough to take to my director. Getting Maria Barber to admit she told Liu about tonight will only add to the evidence.” He turned to Foch. “You’ll help Mercer pick her up.”
“No need to make it an order,” the Legionnaire replied. “Tough part will be keeping my men from killing her for what happened to Vic.” He caught Mercer’s concerned scowl. “Don’t worry. I can keep them in check.”
They spent the next half hour, before Mercer fell asleep on the couch, formalizing a plan to grab Maria the next morning. Harry chuckled to himself after the others had gone. With Mercer on the sofa, he got the bed, the opposite of countless nights he’d crashed at Mercer’s home.
He covered his sleeping friend with the comforter from the bedroom. “I hope that couch’s more comfortable than the damned leather thing at your place.” His voice was as gentle as he could make it. “Sleep well. You deserve it.”
El Mirador West of Panama City
Built by a narco-trafficker currently serving the first of eight consecutive life sentences in a Miami prison, the elaborate estate called
Overlooking a sugar sand beach, the main house loomed atop a promontory and resembled a piece of modern sculpture, all angles and primary colors. Because the odd-shaped house had sat unoccupied for several years before Hatcherly acquired it, the landscaping had become overgrown, ragged with encroaching jungle. Liu had had a one- hundred-meter perimeter around the house and its outbuildings mowed flat. While not unappealing aesthetically, the open area was meant to give guards open lanes of fire if the house were ever assaulted.
Liu cared nothing for the architecture of the place, didn’t even bother to repaint the exterior to hide its outlandish silhouette. What drew him to this particular abomination was its isolation-the driveway was eleven miles long-and that the estate had a heliport with a hangar.
Approaching the well-lit porte-cochere, his limo’s headlights swept over two cars parked a short distance from the house’s front door. He recognized one from Hatcherly’s motor pool, and the other belonged to Omar Quintero, Panama’s president. There was also a black van in the driveway near the two vehicles. Sergeant Huai and Captain Chen stood by the van’s open rear doors as the limo purred to a stop. Beyond them all was darkness and shadow. Even the moon remained hidden.
Next to Liu in the rear of the limo, Maria Barber was curled up with her head resting against the rear door. Her coffee-colored breasts were almost spilling from the top of her loose blouse and the angle of her legs allowed him a view of her lace panties if he was so inclined to look. He wasn’t.
“Maria, we’re here,” he said and tapped her shoulder.
She muttered in her sleep, licked her lips and slowly came awake.
“I’m sorry, lover,” she cooed when her eyes fluttered open. “After what you did to me in your office, I just couldn’t stay awake.”
Liu didn’t believe her. He knew she’d feigned sleep so she wouldn’t have to talk to him on the long drive to the house. She still loved the money and gifts he gave her, but she could no longer maintain the pretense that she loved him. It was just as well. He’d grown bored of her too. She’d fulfilled her usefulness and he only kept her around now because sex with her was simpler than engaging prostitutes.
Stepping from the vehicle, Liu walked to the back of the van and looked at what Huai and Chen had brought him. His voice betrayed his disappointment. “Not exactly what I had in mind but I suppose it will do.”
“Sir.” Captain Chen made a gesture to Liu asking him to turn around.
Coming out the front door of the house was Panama’s new president, Omar Quintero, and the director of the canal, Felix Silvera-Arias. Behind them stood General Yu, the head of COSTIND. Liu nearly choked. In the military hierarchy of Hatcherly and COSTIND, Yu’s only superior was the defense minister himself. Not knowing why Yu was here, Liu didn’t take his presence as a good sign. A jet of acid erupted in his stomach. He wanted to reach back into his car for his Mylanta.
“Mr. Liu,” Felix Silvera-Arias greeted him from several feet away. “Your General Yu graciously invited us out for a meeting. I have never seen your home before. Quite interesting. Why, isn’t that-?”
With a sharp glance, Liu cut off the canal director when he realized that Maria was still with him. Felix had enjoyed the ministrations of two of Maria’s friends following a dinner a few weeks ago and was aware of the role Maria had played in their operation. Her death should have been ordered weeks ago because of what she knew. He had to get rid of her before Felix mentioned her name or Yu became suspicious about her identity.
“Get into the car,” he hissed at her.
“But I’m tired.” She pouted. “I want to go to bed.”
He shoved her into the vehicle, his anger at her masking his fear of Yu. “Shut up, you stupid
“Yes, sir.”
Liu slammed the door on her protests.
“I’m sorry about that, gentlemen.” He spoke English, the only language they all shared. “Had I known you were coming I wouldn’t have hired some, ah, entertainment.”
President Quintero made a dismissive gesture as if he understood, but General Yu’s scowl deepened. Shorter than the others, but with a much more commanding presence, it was for the general’s benefit that Liu had made the excuse. Liu took a deep breath, wincing at the pain in his stomach. He had to get control of himself and the situation. He spoke a few words to Captain Chen and then started toward the others. He shook hands with the president and Silvera-Arias and snapped a perfect salute to Yu.
“I am honored by your visit, General.” Liu barely succeeded at sounding genuine. Rather than honor he felt terror. As far as he knew, the general had never set foot outside China. Liu blew on his fingertips as if they’d just been burned.
“Perhaps,” Yu grumbled. “Let us go inside.”
The four men moved into the cool interior of the house. In the large living room, a pair of half-finished drinks stood amid condensation puddles on a glass-topped table. The minimal furniture was sleek, whites and chromes
