Devil's Road by Gary Winston Brown

Author:Gary Winston Brown [Brown, Gary Winston]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-07-17T00:00:00+00:00

26

Friends and Guns

WASHBURN AND HOBBS stared out the window of the Learjet 75 and watched the Honduran coastline come into view. The aircraft banked sharply and descended into Ramón Villeda Morales International Airport. Once the jet had reached its designated hangar, the agents gathered their flight bags and disembarked the plane. They were met on the tarmac by a strikingly beautiful young woman. She introduced herself to the two operatives.

“Agents Washburn and Hobbs?” the woman asked.

Washburn replied. “I’m Washburn. And you are?”

“Grace Poncaya, operations officer, Honduras station. Director Ferriman informed our station chief you were inbound. I’ve been asked to provide whatever you need relative to your assignment while you’re in the country.”

Washburn checked his watch. It was late. The day had been long. “Can you recommend a decent hotel?”

“Of course,” Poncaya replied. “The Interborough in San Pedro Sula. It’s a few minutes from here. I’ll take you there.”

“Sounds perfect.”

The operatives followed the officer to her car. She popped the hatch on the Lincoln Navigator. The men tossed their bags into the cargo hold.

“I have welcome gifts for you,” Poncaya said. She handed each man a brushed aluminum briefcase.

Washburn and Hobbs opened the cases. “Nice choice,” Washburn said.

Hobbs nodded. “Agreed.”

Washburn removed a leather cross-draw holster from his case, slipped into it, then withdrew the Glock semiautomatic pistol, ejected the clip, checked its capacity, full, then slipped the magazine back into the weapon and fitted it into the holster.

Poncaya watched the men rig up. “You should know that here in Honduras, there are two things you can never have too many of,” she said.

“What’s that?” Washburn asked.

Poncaya winked. “Friends and guns. And not necessarily in that order.”

Washburn smiled. “Anything else?”

Poncaya removed a manilla envelope from the hatch, handed it to him. “Down here, we call this a conversation starter.”

Washburn opened the envelope and fanned the stack of U.S. currency. “How much?” he asked.

“Fifty thousand.”

“That won’t be enough.”

“I know. Thus, the card.”

Washburn looked inside the envelope, withdrew the special card. It was black, with an oval circle in the upper right corner. “A ghost card?”

Poncaya nodded. “Call the number on the back if you need to transfer funds to an account. It has no withdrawal limit, and no password is required. That being said, please use it conservatively.” She withdrew her cell phone, entered a PIN code, then attached a scanning device to her phone’s power port and passed the ghost card’s magnetic stripe through the reader. The oval outline on the black card glowed bright red.

“Place your thumb in the oval,” she instructed.

Washburn placed his thumb on the card, watched as the oval’s color turned green.

“That’s it,” Poncaya said. “Your all set. Your biometric signature has been assigned to your card. It can be used by no one but you.”

Washburn slipped the card into his pocket. “Thanks for the goodies,” he said.

The agent smiled. “Don’t thank me. Thank the U.S. government.”

Washburn grinned. “My tax dollars at work, huh?”

Poncaya nodded. “Exactly. You two ready to roll?”

“Yeah.”

“Then let’s mount up,” Poncaya said, then walked to her car.

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