Case:Black - 39. Chapter 39

Mexico City

0345 CST

The Gulfsteam jet landed at a small commuter airport on the outskirts of the city. McGrath was met by the US Embassies “Cultural Attaché” and hustled to a cab driven by “another company man” as the diplomat described him.

The cabbie was every bit as suicidal as the typical cabbie in the city. He tore through the light early morning traffic and had McGrath at the International Terminal of the Mexico City Airport by ten minutes after four.

McGrath asked the cabbie, “amigo, ¿cuánto?”

“Nada- es en la empresa.”

He put his duffle over his shoulder and his attaché in his hand and began to navigate his way through Customs. The Air Marshall badge parted the way for him. The Mexicans had no love for hijackers and terrorist and were happy to see him.

By four-thirty, he was checked in with his Air France boarding pass in his suit pocket and found one of Lee Child’s Jack Reacher novels in his brief case. Sarah always did have a sense of humor.

As he pretended to read the paperback, he was actually sizing up the passengers as they arrived. They had all been questioned by screening personnel: have you recently been to the United States? Where did you travel there? Do you have a fever or headaches? Everyone was concerned about the potential for a pandemic of Pandora. Just the thought put a knot in his stomach.

James Bond would have been swilling down martinis in the VIP lounge. McGrath knew better. As he was in his late fifties and running on just a few hours sleep, the only thing he wanted was coffee.

An Arab in full regalia accompanied by two women in burkas arrived at the check in counter. McGrath’s French was rusty but even he could tell that the Sheikh was drunker than any six sailors on liberty and making quite an ass of himself. He wondered why such a person would be traveling at all without retainers. It was well know that wealthy Arabs liked to indulge in Western decadence holidays that would cost them body parts back home.

A priest arrived with a pair of nuns as did numerous ordinary looking people. None of them seemed a threat or particularly excited at the prospects of a trans-Atlantic flight. McGrath had decided that the plane would be flying light as they said in the airline industry. There would certainly be more seats than people.

Finally his four targets arrived and claimed their tickets at the gate. They provided ID to the attendant at the counter and were issued their boarding passes.

Seeing them in person in three dimensions with the right colors, McGrath was struck by the idea that he had seen one or two of their faces before.

Suddenly one of them looked right at McGrath. He looked startled for a moment and the visibly shrugged. He spoke to his four team mates and then walked right for McGrath.

He looked right at the stunned agent and said in perfect American English, “End of exercise. Guys, I want you to meet the Homeland agent that got us. This is Scott McGrath and he’s a real pro. He was my counter-intelligence instructor at Quantico.”

All McGrath could manage to say was, “Stevens?”

The big man nodded and said, “Where do you want to debrief us?”

McGrath pulled out his phone and hit the quick dial on his cell. He turned so the four agents couldn’t hear him. Sarah answered on the first ring.

“Sarah. You’re just going to love this shit.”

Shepherd said, “What’s happened?”

McGrath said,”The leader of the team is Agency for Christ sakes. I was one of his instructors at Quantico.”