Tom Clancy's Op-center Balance of Power - Tom Clancy [48]
"Anybody you know who might fit that profile, Luis?" McCaskey asked.
"Madre de Dios, there are so many politicians, officers, and business figures who could do that job," Luis said. "But what we have decided is this. Someone in San Sebastían destroyed the yacht. Someone else delivered the tape to the radio station. Whether these people are still in the village or not, there has to be a trail. We have asked someone to go up there tonight and have a look. She's being helicoptered up"-he looked at his watch-"in two hours."
"I'd like to go with her," Aideen said. She threw her napkin on the table and rose.
"I'll be happy to send you," Luis said. He regarded McCaskey warily. "That is, if you don't mind."
McCaskey gave him a funny look. "Who's going up there?"
"María Corneja," Luis answered softly.
McCaskey quietly placed his knife and fork on his plate. Aideen watched as a strange discomfiture came over the normally stoic former G-man. It started with a sad turn of the mouth then grew to include the eyes.
"I didn't realize she was working with you again," McCaskey said. He touched his napkin to his lips.
"She returned about six months ago," Luis said. "I brought her back." He shrugged. "She needed the money so she could keep her small theater in Barcelona going. And I needed her because-pues, she is the best."
McCaskey was still looking away. Far away. He managed a weak smile. "She is good."
"The best."
McCaskey finally raised his eyes. He looked at Aideen for a very long moment. She couldn't imagine what was going through his mind.
"I'll have to clear it with Paul," he said, "but I'm in favor of having our own intel from the site. Take your tourist papers." He looked at Luis. "Will María be going as an Interpol officer or not?"
"That will be her call," he replied. "I want her to have the freedom to act."
McCaskey nodded. Then he fell silent again.
Aideen looked at Luis. "I'll get a few things together. How are we going to San Sebastían?"
"By helicopter from the airport," he said. "You'll have a rental car when you arrive. I'll phone María to let her know that you will be accompanying her. Then I will take you over."
McCaskey looked at Luis. "Did she know I was here, Luis?"
"I took the liberty of informing her." He patted the back of his friend's hand. "It's all right. She gave you her best."
McCaskey's expression grew sad again. "That she did," he replied. "That she most surely did."
* * *
ELEVEN
Tuesday, 12:07 a.m.
San Sebastián, Spain
When Juan Martinez maneuvered the runabout away from the Ramirez yacht, the twenty-nine-year-old sailor and navigator had no idea that he'd be saving his own life.
Idling roughly twenty-five meters from the boat, Juan was rocked from his feet by the explosion. But his small boat was not overturned. As soon as the main blast had died, the muscular young man threw the small boat ahead, toward the listing ship.
He had found Esteban Ramirez-who was his employer as well as the father of their powerful familia-lying face-up in the water. His severely burned body was floating some fifteen meters from the yacht. Holding on to a mooring rope, Juan jumped into the choppy waters. Dog-paddling toward Ramirez with his free hand and feet, he reached the man and pulled him toward the boat.
His employer was still breathing.
"Seńor Ramirez," Juan said. "It's Juan Martinez. I'm going to bring you onto the runabout and get you to a-"
"Listen!" Ramirez wheezed suddenly.
Juan started. A moment later Ramirez's groping hand latched onto his sleeve. His grip was surprisingly strong.
"Serrador!" Ramirez said. "Warn him."
"Serrador?" Juan said. "I don't know him, sir."
"Office-" Ramirez choked. "Reading glasses."
"Please, sir," Juan said. "You mustn't exert yourself-"
"Must call!" Ramirez said. "Do it!"
"All right," Juan said, "I promise to call."
Just then, Ramirez began to tremble violently. "Get them or they will get us."
"Who will?" Juan asked.
Suddenly, Juan heard the chugging of an engine on the other side of the yacht. He saw the edges