“We fight,” said one.
“Yes, we fight.”
“Fight.”
“Yes, hit back.”
Another five, although silent, nodded their approval.
“Good. But first, we need to find Alvaro – make sure that they haven’t got him . Also, to…”
“What?!” exclaimed one. “You think the assassins took Alvaro?”
“I don’t know. But who else would do that? As I understand it from the police, other than the nanny, only one other person remains unaccounted for – an Englishman who has already been seen in Puerto Escondido and one of the illegal settlements.”
“No doubt trying to buy a flight out of the country!” said the grey-haired man.
“That confirms it, then,” announced another. “We work together to find Alvaro and the man who has kidnapped him, and interrogate that man – painfully!”
“If you have people in Oaxaca, then please let them know as soon as possible,” continued the uncle.
Soon after, the somber, hard-faced men started departing as they had arrived.
* * *
As the cartel meeting broke-up, Rob and his host arrived at outskirts of San Pedro Mixtepec. Rob looked at her and gave her the thumbs-up sign and she nodded, before walking off in a different direction, their plan of action memorised. Alert for danger, Rob strode purposefully towards the centre. As he went, he sent Gurning a quick text:
Will call within 10 minutes. R
Rob imagined Gurning’s reaction upon receiving the text and smiled inwardly, thinking of current meetings or telephone calls being terminated and other messages being sent to gather whoever had been selected to assist.
First, Rob had two tasks to complete. The route memorised, he found a bank and withdrew the maximum amount of cash permitted from the cash machine. Pleased to see another European couple wandering about, clearly tourists, Rob tried to mimic their relaxed behaviour, interested in their surroundings. When he arrived at the designated shop to surreptitiously meet his host she was clearly nervous. Brushing passed a few other shoppers, smiling apologetically, he deposited the pile of cash into his host’s rustic shopping bag before moving on to browse a battered postcard stand. Deciding not to buy anything, he headed back towards the forest, taking a different route as he looked for a place to call Gurning.
* * *
Meanwhile, Laura and Gurning were sitting silently in Gurning’s office, fidgeting as they waited for the call. Nat was holding on a conference line, ready to be connected by Gurning’s assistant once Rob called.
“He’s late,” worried Laura.
10
That same morning, Arroz and Kamal arrived in Romania on the outskirts of a dull town known for its heavy industry. Against Arroz’s advice, Kamal had wanted to visit the production plant again. With Kamal’s money they had purchased the site nine months earlier and paid for the necessary adaptations, so he wanted to see what his money had bought.
From the outside, except for the improved fencing and security, the sprawling site of buildings and a few chimneys was much as it had been when Kamal had bought it – lifeless. The place had been closed down and allowed to deteriorate for two years before Arroz found it and realised its suitability for Kamal’s purposes. The very bored security guards at the entrance waved them through, recognising Arroz. They had no idea what was so important about the place, but they were being paid well at a time when employment was hard to come by. Therefore, they weren’t going to ask questions.
Arroz drove through the site and into an essentially derelict building where a number of other cars were parked. Dust puffed up from the concrete floor with every step they took walking towards a new, full height metal turnstile door in one wall. Kamal surveyed the space with a keen eye, scowling at the mangy pigeons flying about. Arroz was aware of the sceptical scrutiny, but didn’t care: once through the door everything would change.
“Your biometric details have been scanned into the system, Kamal, so there should be no issue with you getting in.”
Arroz led the way, placing a hand low down on a large wall-mounted plate beside the door. A blue light scanned his hand before a panel slid open at the top of the plate revealing an eye reader. Arroz bent down and looked directly into the eye reader, at which point the door clicked open for Arroz to enter the well-lit room beyond.
Moments later Kamal joined him, looking around suspiciously at the empty room. At the far end of the room there was another heavy metal door. Cheap plastic seats were scattered throughout the bright, clinically white painted room, as though a new hospital.
“This area doubles as a waiting room and, if attacked, somewhere to defend ourselves,” Arroz stated, pointing at holes in the armoured windows as he strode down the room towards the next door.
Following a similar sequence of identity checks to open the next door, they moved into a large open plan office. Dozens of people were working at their computers, multiple screens displaying masses of data. Along the wall closest to the door, there was a bank of lockers. At the opposite end of the large room a long rack holding protective chemical suits stood next to yet another door and a metal stair that led to a newly erected metal balcony.
As Arroz led the way across the room, barely a head turned to acknowledge them. “Your man will probably be in the production area.”
He helped Kamal into a protective green suit and headed up some metal steps, once again ignoring Kamal’s questioning look. At the top, Arroz opened another door that led out on to a series of gantries that spread throughout a brightly lit vast expanse of open space. “As you can see, production is in full swing,” Arroz said turning towards Kamal, sweeping his arm in an arc. “I thought you would appreciate seeing things from this height to grasp the scale of the operation.”
“Indeed. Very impressive. But surely you didn’t waste money on these walkways simply to enjoy the view?”
“Not at all. Beneath each walkway is a winch and track. The chemicals are so toxic that we minimise handling. You will notice that each gantry passes over every chemical collection point next to the production vats with the ventilation systems above.”
Kamal stood and reviewed the operation, nodding to himself. “What’s the rate of production?”
“A thousand litres a day of each chemical. The store is nearly full again so Hans is making arrangements for the transportation. He’s over there,” Arroz said, pointing. “Rightly, he is very proud of this facility, so let me introduce you, and he can answer your questions.”
Arroz led the way along the gantry and down another set of metal steps. In the centre of the space, a raised platform rose like a statue, banks of desks and computers arranged so that operators could see in real time what they were instructing the machines and people to do. Hans, who had overall responsibility, stood in the centre, occasionally stepping forward to talk to one of the computer operators. Except for Hans, who was in an orange protective suit, everyone else was in green.
A few hours later, Kamal’s interest fully satiated, Arroz drove him away and back to the private jet that had brought him to the town, left him there, and returned to the plant where he had some business to look into.
11
At last! Rob thought as he saw a plot of land with a haphazard collection of dilapidated vehicles. Casting a glance about him to check that he was unobserved, Rob darted between the vehicles and into hiding. Cautiously he peered through the rusted hulks and glassless windows, relieved to see nobody. Right. Now I can call Steven.
“Rob?”
