Gary Ponzo - A Touch of Greed

On Stevie’s computer screen, an aerial image of the desert floor came to life. Nick watched the landscape while dialing Walt on his cell phone.

“You in?” Walt asked.

“Yeah.”

“They know you’re there?”

“Not yet,” Nick said, watching Matt stare out the window like a caged tiger.

“Nick,” Walt said. “Are you doing the right thing?”

“I doubt it. But someone has to find that bomb before it leaves the neighborhood.”

There was a sigh on the other end of the line.

“I could send in a squad of Special Forces,” Walt said, stating the obvious.

“No,” Nick said, firmly. “They’ll just crawl under rocks like cockroaches. We don’t have time to search every inch of this place.”

“You do understand I don’t like this plan. Not one bit.” There was a bite to Walt’s words. He’d just lost three FBI agents in the past few days and there was a pain lingering in the tone of his voice.

“We’re okay,” Nick assured him. “Any word from the agent in Mexico?”

“The last communication said he was with the bomb. That’s all.”

“He’s pretty worthless without our help.”

Walt didn’t need to respond to that.

“Okay,” Nick said. “We’ll try this tactic until midnight. If we don’t recover the bomb by then, go ahead and bring the cavalry.”

“Listen, Fisk is on a plane right now to Mexico City for the presidential debate. He’ll be speaking with President Salcido, trying to get help with this.”

“Forgive me if I don’t hold my breath,” Nick quipped.

“I’m trying everything.”

“I know you are, Walt. Just keep this place quarantined. I don’t want anything to escape.”

“You’re positive the bomb is going through Denton?”

“Yes.”

“Good, because it’s sealed up tight. Only one road in and one road out.”

“What about the desert?”

“We have satellites tracking the perimeter,” Walt said. “If you’re right about this, we’ve limited the damage to that border town.”

“Good,” Nick said, checking on Stevie, who seemed ready for instructions. “Let me get back to this.”

“Nick?”

“Yeah.”

“Please. Don’t. Once you find the bomb, we’ll get Garza. I promise.”

Nick watched Matt continue his fascination out the window.

“I’ll do the best I can,” Nick said, seeing Matt tap his foot on the worn carpet. “But I can’t make any guarantees.”

President Merrick sat behind his desk and ran a hand through his hair while reading the latest e-mail update from CIA Director Ken Morris. There was no new information for him to relay so the Director had used hypothetical scenarios as substitutes for solid intelligence. Merrick was a master at detecting long-winded reports without substance, so he deleted the e-mail halfway through reading it.

He grabbed his cell phone and pushed a contact button. On the third ring, Fisk answered, “Hello, Mr. President,” in a sarcastic tone.

“Forget I ever said anything. I don’t want you calling me that again. I’ve had people call me asshole with a nicer connotation.”

“So what’s up?”

“Ken has nothing for me,” Merrick said. “Nick and Matt are holed up in this border town trying to find the bomb and I thought you might have landed already.”

“Nope, we’re circling the airport now,” Fisk said. “There’s so much smog down here, I can barely see the city.”

“Well, despite my warning, everyone’s excited about your visit down there. Salcido thinks you’re coming to bring our endorsement and Rodriguez thinks you’re coming to kiss his ring before he’s sworn in.”

“Do you know the focus of the debate?”

“Yes,” Merrick said. “How to deal with the cartels.”

“Great,” Fisk said. “One wants them all dead, the other wants to offer them half the country as ransom for not gunning down the civilian population.”

“Be careful down there,” Merrick said. “Don’t go wandering off the trail.”

“You sent the Eighty-First airborne with me, for crying out loud. I could take over the country if I wanted.”

“I’m serious, Sam.”

“I know.”

“Also,” Merrick added, “your meeting with Rodriguez has been leaked to the press. It’s already hit the New York Times webpage.”

“Good,” Fisk said. “They’ll be zeroing in on us while I’m here.”

“It’s a risky move. It makes us look like we’re kowtowing to the cartels.”

“I realize that.”

Merrick leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. “Sam, do you think this will work?”

There was a long pause while the sound of plane engines hummed in the background. Finally, Fisk said, “Salcido’s been fighting these drug dealers for too long to give up now. We’re making some real progress and they know it. It’s imperative he remains in office.”

Merrick nodded. “Okay, buddy. Make this quick and get home. We have all this extra food leftover without you.”

“Yes, Mr. President.”

* * *

Garza saw the Humvees coming from his office window. A line of dust trailed laterally across the desert floor until it reached the narrow road which led up toward the compound. He ran down the steps to the courtyard and waited as the gates creaked open and the vehicles paraded around the semicircle driveway and parked. Victor exited from the back seat of the last Humvee. He greeted Garza with a smile and a handshake.

Neither man spoke as Victor pointed to the blindfolded man in the front seat. Everyone followed their instructions precisely. Victor opened the tailgate and exposed the package. A plastic case the size of a small golf bag, wrapped excessively in black tape. Without a word, a couple of soldiers wearing gardening gloves gently lifted the bomb from its resting place. They carefully maneuvered the explosive onto a waiting flatbed cart.

As the soldiers secured the bomb onto the cart with rope, Sadeem turned his blindfolded head in the front seat and said, “I hope you are being careful with that.”

The soldiers methodically wheeled the bomb down the path to the back of the building, the wheels squeaking on the brick pavers.

“Shut up,” Victor said, as Garza motioned him to get their passenger.

Victor opened the car door and pulled Sadeem from his seat. The man stumbled momentarily, then regained his footing.

“I hope you are keeping me with the package because it is very dangerous,” Sadeem said, his voice sounding defensive and not at all authoritative.

The group of soldiers surrounded Sadeem as Victor escorted him down the driveway to the back of the building. Garza had jumped ahead and went underneath the secured overhang of the rear entrance to the complex. The canopy had been added to the structure to prevent satellite images to view the entrance and the oversized elevator which was used to transport numerous paraphernalia to Garza’s personal basement hideaway.

Garza pushed the button as the soldiers approached. The door opened and the elevator offered plenty of room for everyone, including Sadeem, Victor and three of the soldiers manning the flatbed cart.

“We are going down,” Sadeem said, as the elevator descended. “I assume that means we’re heading toward a tunnel.”

Garza didn’t like this sort of narration. He signaled to Victor by padding his chest and his number one nodded, assuring him the man had been checked for a wire.

“You will now be silent,” Victor said. “Or your next words shall be your last.”

Garza smiled at Victor, the man taking control of the situation with perfect timing.

Sadeem frowned, but remained wordless.

Victor took Sadeem’s hand and placed it on the bomb. “You feel this?”