Tom Clancy's Op-center Balance of Power - Tom Clancy [49]
Before Juan could get his employer onto the runabout, Ramirez opened his mouth but did not close it again. Air hissed softly from deep in his throat as his mouth hung frozen, agape.
Juan shut his employer's eyes. He decided to leave his body there. Doing so was a sign of disrespect and that bothered him. But whoever was responsible for the explosion might still be in the vicinity. Perhaps even on the boat that was approaching. Juan didn't think it was prudent to be found here. Climbing back onto the runabout, he engaged the engine and sped away before the boat arrived. He headed out to sea where he wouldn't be seen, then cut the engine. He remained until he saw the police arrive. Then he set out again, giving the accident a wide berth as he headed toward shore.
Upon reaching the dock, Juan went to a pay phone. Wet and chilly, he called the night watchman at the factory and asked him to send a car for him. Upon arriving, Juan went directly to Seńor Ramirez's office. He forced open the door and sat behind his desk.
His employer had mentioned something about his reading glasses. Juan found the pair in the top drawer. He looked at them. Printed inside the frames-innocuously, like serial numbers-was a series of four telephone numbers and identifying letters.
Ingenious, Juan thought. His boss didn't need glasses-hadn't needed glasses, he thought bitterly-but no one would ever think to check them for coded messages or phone numbers.
He called the number with the S next to it. Serrador answered-whoever that was. The man was indignant, brusque, and in trouble, judging from the sounds Juan heard over the telephone. He decided to hang up before the call could be traced.
He remained behind the desk in the large second-floor office. He looked out the bank of windows at the large yacht factory. Esteban Ramirez had been good to him for many years. Juan hadn't been an intimate but he was a member of Seńor Ramirez's familia. And that loyalty continued even after death.
Juan looked at the eyeglasses. He called the other numbers. Housekeepers answered using the family name: they were all men who had been on the ship. Juan knew because he had ferried them there.
Something evil was afoot, as Seńor Ramirez had warned. Someone had been careful to wipe out everyone who was involved with the boss and his new project. It was a matter of honor, nothing else, that Juan find that someone and avenge the murders.
The night crew at the factory was already talking about the rumors of the death of their employer. They were also talking about a tape recording that had just been played at the local radio station. A tape that reportedly had their boss revealing his involvement in the murder of the American tourist.
Juan was too angry to allow himself to be overcome by grief. Rounding up several other members of the familia-two watchmen and a night manager-he decided to go to the radio station to find out if there were such a tape.
And if there were, find out who had brought it to them.
And whoever it was, cause him to regret that he had.
* * *
TWELVE
Monday, 5:09 p.m.
Washington, D.C.
Paul Hood was unhappy. That was occurring a lot lately, and usually for the same reason.
Hood had phoned his wife to tell her that he'd be missing dinner with the family tonight.
"As usual," Sharon reminded him before leaving him with a curt goodbye and hanging up.
Hood tried not to blame his wife for being disappointed. How could he? She didn't know he'd lost Martha in the field. He wasn't permitted to discuss Op-Center matters with anyone over an open line. Anyway, Sharon was more upset for the two kids than for herself. She said that even though it was spring vacation, eleven-year-old Alexander had gotten up early and set up