Part 34 (1/2)
”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. ”Curson. He would have been the shooter.”
”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 s.h.i.+ned its light in the island's direction for a little while after the a.s.sa.s.sination 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. .h.i.t lost the taste for blood.”
That must have p.i.s.sed 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.
So, Romero alive. An extremely ego-driven politician with designs on ruling for life permanently derailed. It sounded like more than enough motive for revenge.
”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 d.a.m.n 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?
Of course. Romero wanted to be present as each member of the ops team was put to death. It was the only theory that rang true, and it also lent more credence to Quinn and Orlando's belief the man was still alive.
What about Nate? Now that he'd most likely been taken to Romero, were they already too late to save him?
As soon as the question entered his mind, he pushed it away. What-ifs like that could derail them. He needed to stay focused. They would find Nate.
They'd find him alive.
To do that, though, they needed to find Romero and Harris. And to find someone, you started at their last known location. Romero's public trail had gone cold a little more than three years earlier, at the Isla de Cervantes hospital where he was treated for his wounds.
That's where they would start.
As the plane taxied from the runway to the area reserved for private aircraft, Quinn got out of his seat and turned so he could talk to everyone at once.
”We need to track Romero down fast.”
”If he's still alive,” Daeng said.
”He is,” Quinn said. ”I'm sure of it.”
”How do we find him?” Liz asked.
Quinn looked at his sister. ”Orlando and I are going to pay a visit to the hospital where he was last treated, and see what we can turn up. You're going to stay here with Daeng.”
Liz didn't look happy. Before she could argue the point, Orlando said, ”He's right, Liz. We need to keep a low profile. The more people, the more chance we'll be discovered.”
”I can wait in the car,” Liz said.
”True,” Quinn said. ”But what will you say when a security guard comes out and asks what you're doing? It's the middle of the night. People don't just sit in their cars.”