Command and Control by Marc Cameron

Author:Marc Cameron [Cameron, Marc]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2023-11-21T00:00:00+00:00

33

Chilly woke from an amazingly deep sleep to Adara Sherman’s voice as she doled out tourist information about Cartagena—mostly the locations of the most highly rated ice cream joints.

Dom caught Chilly’s eye and gave a good-natured shrug. “Ice cream is kind of her thing,” he said. “She’s got a favorite place just about everywhere we set foot.”

“The cucumber flavor in Buenos Aires is the best,” Adara said, nodding. “But there’s a decent place about three blocks from our hotel.”

The Gulfstream banked left on her final approach to Rafael Núñez International Airport on a narrow neck of land in an area known as Crespo between the Caribbean Sea and a shallow inland waterway called the Ciénaga de La Virgen marsh. The city of over a million rose from between the hills and the ocean to the south.

Chilly leaned forward in his seat, getting a bird’s-eye view of what was, not too many years ago, a city in one of the most violent countries on the planet—primarily because of Pablo Escobar. Medellín, Cali, and Cartagena flowed with cash and cocaine on the blood of anyone who got in the way of the narcos. The stonework and Spanish influence on the architecture were amazing, even from the air—and so was the poverty. For every high-rise building there were a thousand ramshackle hovels, some of them covered with tin, some with what looked like weathered canvas tarps. Quaint cobblestone streets gave way to uneven dirt roads at the edge of the city. It was as if the planners had run out of money and abruptly stopped with any and all improvements. Rural life with goats and chickens and open cookfires was within spitting distance from the nightclubs and shopping malls of Cartagena.

Adara leaned in, nose to the window, and pointed to the west. “We’re staying there, in the old walled city. You guys should come here when we’re not hunting bad guys. It’s incredible.”

“Listen up!” Chavez said from the front of the airplane. “We’ll be on the ground in five. We’ll clear customs and then link up with our contact. Chilly, Mandy, remind me. Either of you two been to Cartagena before?”

They shook their heads.

“Well, I have,” he said. “As you can see out the window, it’s a magical-looking place—but it’s got a dark side. Don’t go anywhere alone. Copy?”

“Something else to think about,” Clark said. “Helen and Country filed a flight plan and notified Colombian customs. Everyone who matters knows we’re coming. The politicians, the cartels, even Sabine Gorshkova, if she happens to be here. What they do not know is who we are or what we are doing. We want to be seen joining the production company that’s filming a documentary at the University of Cartagena.

“Remember,” Clark continued, “rabbits and wolves both survive by keeping their eyes up and ears open. We’re not timid, but it’s perfectly acceptable to keep your head on a swivel.”

“But,” Jack Junior said, “be aware you may be tested.”

Cobb looked to the rear of the plane at Ryan.

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