Vanishing Point by Marc Cerasini

Author:Marc Cerasini
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Tags: Area 51 (Nev.), Action & Adventure, General, Suspense fiction, Media Tie-In, Suspense, Terrorism, Fiction, Terrorism - United States
ISBN: 9780060842284
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2007-02-08T08:21:10.059453+00:00

* * *

6:55:57 p.m. PDT

Bix Automotive Center

Browne End Road, Las Vegas

Carlos Boca looked up from the liquid crystal display screen. "You were correct, Pizarro. There was someone in that building across the street. I believe they are still there."

Pizarro stood in the middle of the crowded garage. Hugo Bix had come down from his tattered office to greet the Colombian brothers and their Cuban allies, only to be silenced by an angry Pizarro Rojas. Chewing his lip, Pizarro waited for the results of Boca's transmission scan.

"You're certain there is a watcher?" Balboa asked, glancing at his brother, then at the Cubans.

"You're the jamming expert, Balboa. What do you think?" Carlos stared at the Rojas brother. Balboa nodded.

"Whoever's spying, they have attempted to send a data transmission, either from a PDA or a laptop computer. Then, just now, the observer also tried to make a phone call. I blocked both signals with the jamming system," Carlos explained.

Pizarro Rojas faced Hugo Bix. The American cowboy was over a head taller than the squat, wide Colombian. "Have your men checked that abandoned building across the street?" Pizarro demanded.

Bix pursed his lips and scratched his stubbled chin under the handlebar moustache. Then he glanced at his partner. "I reckon Roman here will know," Bix replied.

"No one's been in there, man. What's the point. Not even bums will sleep there 'cause the building's full of rattlers," Roman told the Colombian.

Pizarro frowned. "There are more than snakes around. My man says you are being watched, which means that someone is inside that building across the street."

"If that's true, then Roman here can deal with the situation," Bix replied smoothly.

Roman nervously wiped his upper lips. He hated snakes.

Carlos Boca set the black box on the hood of a car. "My brother and I will take care of this."

"No," Pizarro Rojas countered. "I need you both here, to examine the quality of the American's work. We can't afford any mistakes."

Carlos nodded, gestured to three men from the other SUV. He gave them terse instructions in Spanish, and the men retrieved AK-47s from their vehicle. Then they headed for the back door of the garage.

"What if the intruder gets away?" Bix asked. "Out of range of that do-hickey of yours?"

Carlos watched as the trio slipped outside, then split up. "Don't worry. He won't," Boca vowed.

Inside the garage, Pizarro Rojas peered at the sprinters lined up in a neat row. "The trucks are prepared, I see."

"Six of them, just like you ordered," Bix replied. "They've all been stolen hundreds of miles from here, and we've supplied phony license plates and electronic key cards with the proper vendor codes. Each of these trucks has been customized to breeze right through the Babylon's security without arousing suspicion.

" Behind the wheels of these babies..." Bix thumped the hood with the flat of his callused hand, "...you and your boys can roll right into the underground delivery area and park where you want."

Bix's homespun smile broadened. "Best of all. every one of those damn trucks is loaded for bear.

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