Chapter 69. Targets
After the ransom video was uploaded to You Tube, Cezanne broke out cigars for his cousin and the two scientists.
“Well done, boys. Now we sit back and wait.”
Graciano declined the cigar. He was not particularly excited about killing millions of people. He hoped that the President ordered the round-up of the Serbian and Dutch war criminals. That’s all he cared about. Graciano looked at Cezanne. The man disgusted him.
“Out of curiosity,” said Graciano. “Julio, assuming that the United States gives in to our demands and wires $25 billion to this account—and that is a big assumption-- how in the world are you ever going to hope to keep that money? You know that they are going to trace that money wherever it goes.”
“One thing you need to know about drug dealers, my friend, is that they hire the smartest bankers and lawyers in the world. This wire transfer will hit banks in Cyprus, Panama, the Bahamas, Nevis/St. Kitts, Singapore, Venuatu, and Luxembourg, before it comes to rest in the Isle of Mann in the Irish Sea.”
“Where is Venuatu?” asked Graciano. “ I have never heard of that.”
“It is a tiny island near New Zealand. And it has some of the best tax laws in the world. Each of the bankers in those countries takes a 2% administrative fee. For a transfer of $25 billion, that’s $500 million for each country. I have an arrangement with a man in the bank in Venuatu. He gives me 80% of the $500 million dollar administrative fee, and he keeps 20% for himself. I walk away with $400 million in cash, and then I kill the banker in Venuatu. The United States Government chases its tail tracking down the money in all those islands, and by the time they figure it out, I am long gone.”
“So no one ever picks up the money in the Isle of Mann?”
“Right.”
“Wow, that’s ingenious. You think it will work?”
“Of course it will work. As long as this virus does what it is supposed to do. Have you heard from your brother?”
Graciano and Chastain looked at each other nervously.
“What, did you think I didn’t know about your brother Debit at the CDC? Boys, I don’t invest this much money in an operation without knowing who I am dealing with.”
“We haven’t heard from him in several days,” said Graciano.
“Well, I would try and reach him if I were you,” said Cezanne. Cezanne took out a pineapple and put it on the wooden table in front of them. With a large machete, he cleaved the fruit in half with a vicious blow. “Pineapple?” he asked, offering the scientists a skewered piece.
Bosnia-Herzegovenia
Agent Jimmy Pond looked through his infrared binoculars. The 62 year-old target was in the kitchen. No one else was home. “Go,” said Pond to his driver. Pond’s driver slowly pulled the dark telephone van in front of the house, and opened the side panel. Pond rang the doorbell. A man in pajamas answered a minute later, holding a half-eaten banana.
“Can I help you?”
Before the man in pajamas could register what was going on, Pond hit him with the TASER. The man collapsed in Pond’s arms, dropping the banana. Pond took out a syringe and shot it into the man’s bicep. Lifting the man in pajamas over his shoulder, Pond threw him into the back of the van and closed the door. Target Number 14 of the list of 52 was now in the bag.
The White House. Washington, D.C.
“How are we on the list?” asked the President to CIA Director Hank Armstrong.
“Fourteen are at dark sites. Twelve were already dead. That leaves twenty-six to go.”
“Will we make it?” asked the President.
“My guess is we will end up five or six short,” said Armstrong. “There just is not enough notice to plan these ops properly. These snatch-and-grabs are exposing our people in the field. It is not how we normally operate.”
“Okay, can we find look-alikes for the people we cannot get?”
“I am working on it, Madame President.”
“How are we on tracking the bank account where the money is going?”
“It is in the Isle of Mann in the Irish Sea. Anyone tries to pick that up, we will be all over them. But we are ready to make the transfer if it comes to that.”
“Good. I do not want these guys winding up with that money. Is it Cezanne?”
“We have not confirmed that, but we believe so.”
“Have you been able to trace the You Tube post?”
“Yes, it came from the Caribbean island of Trinidad, but by the time we got a team there, they were long gone. No idea where they are now, but we are working with the Trinidad government to isolate flights out of the country. Their equivalent of the FAA there is more like three guys and a spiral notebook, so it might be difficult to trace. But we are on it. We have boots on the ground there. It is a matter of time. ”
“What’s going on in The Netherlands?”
“It is not good. The virus is out. They got twenty patients today at different hospitals. It is going to be tough to contain. Brazil is worse. Two hundred suspected cases today.”
“Good God, this is a nightmare,” said the President.
“I know.”
“Keep me posted, Hank.”
“Will do, Madame President.”