The Rules Of Silence Part 20

"So, this is it, "he said. "This is it."

Before he got off the phone, Burden wanted to talk to Janet. t.i.tus handed the phone to her, and then he and Rita walked out to the patio behind the cottage. The patio walls were covered with moneda moneda vines, and star jasmine crawled up trellises in the corners. A window in the patio's walls, covered with decorative wrought iron, looked out toward the end of the laurel allee and the valley beyond. vines, and star jasmine crawled up trellises in the corners. A window in the patio's walls, covered with decorative wrought iron, looked out toward the end of the laurel allee and the valley beyond.

t.i.tus told her about the conversation, and when he came to the end, to Burden's remark, she gasped.

"Yeah, "he said. "That was a shocker to me, too."

She had been standing in front of the jasmine, which was in full bloom. It was late in the day, and the patio was cooling in deep shade now. To his surprise, she seemed to wilt. She unfolded her arms and buried her face in her hands. The vine's tiny, star-shaped bursts of white blossoms were a dazzling backdrop for her. Nearly perfectly framed behind her head was the grilled window through which he could see in the distance the last of the sun on the tops of the hills across the valley.

"This is too much, "she said through her hands. He could see her chest moving, searching for air. He looked at the top of her head, her thick b.u.t.tery hair parted in the middle and pulled back. "The d.a.m.ned tension, "she said, and took her hands down and looked at him with red eyes. "t.i.tus, I'm so afraid."

He went over to her and gently put his arms around her. He felt her simply fold herself into his embrace, a rare moment for Rita as she completely gave in to the vulnerability that she could no longer overcome. It was an emotion that she had conquered again and again throughout her life, a conquest that had earned her the reputation for being a strong, rock-solid woman. But this time she just couldn't do it.

"It's going to be all right, "he said. "I'm afraid, too, no doubt about it. But we both know that I've got to do this. And I want to do it. I've never wanted to do anything in my life more than I want to do this."

Chapter 44.

When Macias started back into the house from the shade around the pool where he'd been on the phone, he saw Luquin through the tinted gla.s.s walls, looking at him. Luquin was wearing sungla.s.ses because he was looking outside, and he was watching Macias as if he were watching a fish in an aquarium. But Macias feared there was more on Luquin's mind than idle curiosity.

Macias closed the door behind him, walked over to the sofa, and flopped down where he'd left a soft drink in a gla.s.s of ice on the coffee table. The nine-foot television screen was flickering with a movie that Roque had been watching, sitting in an armchair like a cruel imbecile with his headphones on. Luquin didn't like the d.a.m.n television, but he let Roque watch it because it was one of the few things the guy liked to do besides reading the sepia-toned adult comic books that he devoured.

"So, what's going on? "Luquin asked when Macias picked up his soft drink.

"What do you mean?"

"You been on the phone a lot."

"I don't want any screwups, "Macias said. "If we can believe what we heard Cain tell his wife, things are going to start heating up. So far it's been fairly smooth. I want it to stay that way."

Luquin took off his sungla.s.ses and put his hands in his pocket. He looked down and walked from one side of the gla.s.s wall to the other, thinking. Macias glanced at the movie. He didn't recognize it. He looked at Luquin. He had to admit that Luquin's pensive mood made him uncomfortable.

And it should have. In the last hour Macias had initiated steps that, if followed through, would change the rest of his life no matter what happened. Actually, even if he didn't follow through, that call would change the rest of his life. If the people working with Cain were smart, they would know that by simply contacting them for a meeting, Macias had ended his relationship with Luquin. They could use that phone call-again, if they were smart, they would have recorded it-to blow things apart.

Did Luquin suspect any of this? You had to always fear that Luquin suspected everything. He was uncanny about this sort of treachery within his ranks. And sometimes-Macias had seen it more than a few times-he even wiped out completely loyal men because he suspected them, wrongly.

Macias had one thing in his favor: He was Luquin's numero uno. numero uno. So far Luquin had never turned on anyone that high. It was the bane of a tyrant that at some point he had to trust someone. He had to. But not forever. So far Luquin had never turned on anyone that high. It was the bane of a tyrant that at some point he had to trust someone. He had to. But not forever.

"I've been thinking- "Luquin suddenly interrupted himself and turned from the windows where he'd been standing, jingling the American nickels and dimes in his pocket. "You started the thing on Cain's wife yet?"

"Yeah, "Macias lied, trying to sound on top of it. Luquin took it for granted that if Macias said a certain thing was in the works, then it was in the works, and it would be done. He was getting complacent in his middle age. He relied on others to take care of the details for him.

"I've been thinking, "Luquin continued, picking up where he had interrupted himself. "I want that to be one special hit. It's got to be an accident, you know, like the rest of them so he'll know what happened-but even so, you know, a special accident. Something so that, when it happens it brings shame on her, public shame, so that he can't cover it up."

Macias stared at him. This guy was something. "You have an idea?"

"No, not really. Drugs, s.e.x, those things. But the important thing ... not something he can cover up. That'll be the thing, you know, the twist of the knife."

"That may take a little while to develop."

"That's okay. When it happens, he'll know. Maybe that will even be better. He thinks he's rid of me and then ... ughhh. "He made a gesture of knifing someone in the stomach with an underswinging thrust, holding, then twisting. "But for sure, the thing is, I want it to be a very shameful thing. "He turned back to the window, looking out. "That pendejo pendejo really p.i.s.sed me off. s.h.i.t. "He turned again. "And I want pictures. I can send him those pictures for years. "He turned back to the window. really p.i.s.sed me off. s.h.i.t. "He turned again. "And I want pictures. I can send him those pictures for years. "He turned back to the window.

Macias said nothing.

Luquin gave it some more thought. He turned around and wandered in Macias's direction.

"Never go away, Jorge, "he said, almost to himself. "That's the best torment of all. h.e.l.l, I just put it on the d.a.m.n calendar and forget about it. When the date rolls around I just do it, whatever it is. For them it's worse than just the memory of something terrible. That fades with time. But knowing that I'm going to come back, sometime, some way, and remind them of it with a fresh approach, h.e.l.l, they can't stop worrying about that. That's real torture. The anxiety consumes them like a f.u.c.king disease."

Macias had never heard Luquin talk like this before. What was this? Did he know something after all? Did he suspect? Was he trolling for a reaction from Macias that would tell him something about his suspicions? If ever Macias had to have himself under control, it was now. The fact was, Luquin could not know what Macias had decided to do, because aside from talking to Cain, the betrayal was entirely within Macias's head. He hadn't uttered a word of it to anyone. There was only the telephone call, that's all. Macias knew that Luquin was capable of playing mind games, and he cautioned himself not to be drawn into them.

"You think about it, "Macias said, and he turned up his gla.s.s and finished his soda to cover his discomfort. "Whatever you want to do. "He looked at his watch. "Later tonight I'm going to meet with my people. That will take a couple of hours. Is there anything you want me to know before I do that? This will probably be the last time I'll see them personally before this is over. I want to make sure they understand what we're expecting."

"And what are we expecting?"

"If Cain pays ahead of schedule, as we hope, I want to release most of these people quickly. Having them here is only a risk. Whatever you decide about Cain's wife can be handled separately."

"Of course, Cain hasn't yet told us what he is going to do."

"No, "Macias said, crossing one leg over the other and putting an arm on the back of the sofa, doing his d.a.m.nedest to seem relaxed. "And what if he changes his mind and doesn't pay up immediately?"

But Luquin didn't answer. Though he was looking at Macias, the slight smile on his face belonged to other thoughts.

"This, "Luquin said, "is a lot of money, Jorge. You are going to be a very wealthy man."

"Good, "Macias said.

Chapter 45.

When Burden returned to the rental house, he was hot and tired, and his jeans were wet to the knees. He had already released the three-man encryption crew that had helped them decipher the messages picked up by the Beechcraft, and all that remained were Romolo Cal's three men and his own surveillance van crew of three.

One man was sitting in the van monitoring the LorGuides and their yellow and green dots representing the human and vehicle moles t.i.tus had managed to put in place. The rest of them were on the humid and airless screened porch, lying about listlessly like Bedouins, trying to get through the late afternoon heat. Pieces of paper, maps, and photos were scattered everywhere as they had been trying to work out the logistics of what they needed to do.

Burden got an RC out of an ice chest, opened it, and walked onto the porch. He sat with his back to the wall, put the can of RC on the floor, and unb.u.t.toned his shirt without saying a word. Everyone looked at him. He took a long drink of the soda.

"Recent developments, "he said, and proceeded to tell them what had just happened.

Cal whistled softly under his breath.

"So, essentially, "Burden said, "Cain thinks Macias has just sold out his boss. I have to say, I agree. More important, Macias himself has given us the answer to the problem of how to isolate Luquin in the house. Follow me, Cal, and see if my count is the same as yours.

"From our surveillance run last night, it seems that there are six of them staying in the house. Luquin, his bodyguard, Roque, and their driver. They use the black Navigator. Macias, his bodyguard, and their driver travel in the blue Navigator. We needed to get these last three out of the house, which would leave a driver, Roque, and Luquin at the house."

"That leaves the two guards and the driver in the Pathfinder, "Cal said. "When Macias leaves, they'll probably come into the neighborhood close by to be ready to move in if Luquin should need them. So, we have three problem spots: Three armed men in Macias's car, that's including Macias. Three armed men in the Pathfinder. And n.o.body to cover their surveillance van. "He looked at Burden. "We're short by one crew."

Burden said, "You're just going to let the surveillance crew go?"

"And keep the van."

"Okay, then, I'll get Gil to put together a team to take care of the surveillance van for us."

Cal nodded. "And then what do you want done with Macias himself?"

Burden squeezed the sides of his RC can in and out, making a little popping sound, the only sound in the room besides the roaring of cicadas in the cedar brakes just outside.

"He disappears, same as the others."

Cal nodded.

"One other thing, "Burden said. "One of the Navigators, I don't care which one, needs to be left at Luquin's house after all of this is done."

"Fine, "Cal said.

No one asked him what was going to happen at the house, who was going to take care of the driver left there with Roque and Luquin, or what would become of Roque and Luquin themselves. But Burden's silence about it was enough to kick an imaginative mind into high gear. There were a few glances around the room, but Burden, preoccupied deep within himself, either ignored them or was completely unaware. It didn't matter either way. The matter would go no further.

In Burden's small world, men and women with secrets were the accepted norm. It was what made them who they were. But a rare few were profoundly enigmatic, even to their peers. They were granted unusual trust and lat.i.tude in their personal mystery because of their nearly legendary reputations. The impending events at the clifftop house on Las Lomitas were the kinds of things that fed those mythologies.

Burden stood stiffly and stepped away from the group of men. Staring out into the hot woods, he pulled out his cell phone to call Gil Norlin. The high temperature was bringing the essence out of the sap of the cedars, filling the dying day with an aromatic fragrance. When he was finished with his conversation, he continued to stand with his back to the group, lost in thought.

Pacing back and forth in front of his men, Cal ignored Burden while he reviewed yet again the details of the coming operation, which was now only hours away. Again they explored the huge number of possibilities that could be applied to a basic scenario that evolved very quickly. The algebra of a specific tactical operation with limited personnel was minutely explored, theories were proposed, attacked, adjusted, and restated. Then attacked again. The unknowable variables were always there, impossible to eliminate. The suddenly unexpected was the only thing they could count on for sure. The rest of it was rehea.r.s.ed with a fierce concentration.

At a certain moment, when a fine point of a maneuver proposed by Baas was being shredded by the doubts of the others, Cal turned and went over to stand by Burden. There was nothing to look at, just the woods.

"Did you get Gil?"

"He's going to get back to us. He doesn't think it's a problem, but he'll confirm it with you as soon as he can. I gave him all the particulars about the van and its crew, but he's going to want to get it from you, too. You can tell him where you want the thing delivered."

"Good, "Cal said. Silence. "This isn't one of the simplest ones."

"We didn't have enough time, "Burden said. "I'm sorry it had to be like this. "It wasn't an apology; it was a regret. He reached up and touched the rusty screen with the rim of his RC can, rubbing it along the wire with a tiny thrumming sound. He touched it again and then dropped his hand to his side, holding the can against his leg.

"It's one of the human curses, "he said, "being afraid of time and what it can do to us. About a hundred years ago I heard an old woman say-she had just become a widow- that Time was a wh.o.r.e without a conscience. She gave herself to the d.a.m.nedest people and denied herself to the saints. It was a vivid if kind of confusing aphorism, but I think I understand what she was getting at. "He thought about it a moment. "But, in the end, it seems that Time treats everyone the same after all: Sooner or later she runs out on all of us."

Chapter 46.

Macias called back in exactly twenty minutes as he had promised. The conversation was quick and brittle. They would meet at La Terrazza, an Italian restaurant on Loop 360. Quarter to eleven. Macias didn't give t.i.tus time to negotiate anything later, but luckily it was within Burden's preferred time frame anyway. The line went dead.

For t.i.tus, the next few hours pa.s.sed in a complex mixture of grim antic.i.p.ation, frantic preparation, and busywork to keep from thinking. From his office, he finally dealt with one of the things he had dreaded the most. He put in a call to Carla's daughters.

After that, he also called Louise Thrush. Both calls were excruciating. When he hung up the phone, he was wringing wet with perspiration.

He got up and went down the hallway to the kitchen, where Rita and Janet had been making sandwiches.

Rita looked at him expectantly as he walked in, but he said nothing. He pa.s.sed up the sandwiches sitting in a tray on the island along with gla.s.ses of iced tea and got a bottle of Scotch out of the pantry, put ice in a tumbler, and poured a drink.

"How did that go with those calls? "Rita asked, trying to make the question sound nonprovocative. The waiting was like attending a terminally ill friend; there was simply no way to get away from it. It had to be done, and you had to pretend not to be depressed or afraid or you wouldn't be any good to anyone. It was an exercise in the suspension of normal emotions.

He sipped the Scotch. "Actually, it was terrible, "he said. "The twins"-he shook his head-"Leslie cried inconsolably. She just couldn't stop. I don't know what I said to her. Tried to be comforting. I don't know. Lynne was quiet and polite, almost as if she weren't affected at all. Something's changed deep inside her. She's not going to let anything, or anyone, comfort her."

He went to the Scotch again.

"And Louise? "Rita asked.

"Bless her heart. She wanted to review the funeral service. The songs, the scriptures. The order of things. She wanted to talk ... you know, about Charlie. I took a lot of time with her. She needed me to do that. "He paused. "And I wanted to ... for her."

He shook his head again, then turned and walked out the kitchen door to the veranda. At Kal's request, all the landscaping lights had been turned on, but the lights on the veranda were turned off. t.i.tus took a momentary refuge there, the glow from the kitchen windows falling in puddles on the flagstones. He caught a whiff of honeysuckle on the night air.

But the respite was brief. His cell phone rang.

"This is Ryan. Can you come on over to the cottage? We need to start getting you ready."

"Okay. "t.i.tus went to the kitchen door and stuck his head in. "Rita, we're getting things ready to go."

Everyone was there except Burden: the three bodyguards; Herrin and Cline, wearing headphones and watching the screens and listening to transmissions; and Rita and t.i.tus.

"We all need to be on the same page here, "Kal said. "Here's what's set up. "He was showing the strain. He and Ryan had been working nonstop to coordinate what needed to be done in the cottage with what was happening with Burden's people. Since Macias's phone call, the cottage had felt like the control tower at DFW. Plans were made and changed in a swirl of perpetual motion. Everyone had a job to do, and they had just enough manpower to cover the operation without a single person to spare.

"We've got about an hour, "Kal said, "before you need to drive away from here. Garcia will be mobile the whole time, watching the dots on the LorGuides. There are three groups of Macias's people who need to be dealt with. Garcia has a tactical group from out of town covering two of those. Gil Norlin has quickly pulled together a couple of people to handle Macias's surveillance van. All of them will be in communication with us, each other, and Garcia in his van. And they'll all have LorGuides, too, so they can watch each other's progress."

Kal wiped his mouth. The pressure was bringing on the nervous tics. He was pacing around the room, occasionally referring to a clipboard.

t.i.tus made a mental note about the tactical group from out of town.

"What about Luquin? "Rita asked, looking around as if she wondered why someone weren't addressing the most obvious target of concern.

"Yeah, Garcia's got someone covering him, too, "Kal said quickly, and moved on. "There's one mole sensor left, "he said, stepping over and handing it to t.i.tus. "Use it, don't lose it."

t.i.tus peeled it off its clear sheet and put it on the inside of his right arm, at just about the spot you'd insert an IV.

"We're going to put a ticker on your Rover, "Kal continued, "but they'll a.s.sume it's there. Still ... "He shrugged. "They want you to get to La Terrazza early, go on inside to the courtyard, and wait. That'll pull Macias in to you and, maybe, separate him from his driver and bodyguard at the Navigator."

"Then what? "t.i.tus asked.