Free An Eye For An Eye by L.D. Beyer

provided him with diversification. What was it los gringos said? Don’t put all of your eggs in one basket?
    The bribes he had paid to the police and to the customs inspectors in Veracruz to look the other way had been a sound investment. They also opened up another potential route to the U.S. Borrowing a page from Colombia’s playbook, he was exploring the possibility of acquiring a mini-submersible—a submarine. He would acquire it through a shell corporation, of course, claiming the vessel would be used for marine research. But how difficult would it be, he wondered with a smile, to take on a load in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico and then transport it to a rendezvous point off the coast of Louisiana?
    This was the lesson Ramón had never learned. Brute force wasn’t always the best answer. Sometimes it was better to watch your enemy, to study his moves, to figure out what he was thinking. It required patience but it often revealed weaknesses that could be exploited and opportunities that could be seized.
___
    “Marine One is ready, sir.”
    President Kendall looked up at Burt Philips and nodded. As he handed his bag to an aide, he joined Phillips and together they walked out the door. As they followed the walkway around the West Colonnade, Phillips continued.
    “Everything is set with President Magaña,”
    The president nodded. He and the Mexican President would meet, out of sight and away from the press. His daughter told him he was old school, but he believed that face to face meetings were critical, especially when the stakes were as high as they were. He and Magaña both agreed that few if any options remained, but he wanted to meet the man in person one final time before he said yes. Phillips’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
    “Have you given any thought to Brett’s replacement?”
    “I have,” the president responded. “While I think Jessica Williams is certainly qualified, I have someone else in mind.”
    As Brett Watson’s chief of staff, Jessica Williams was highly skilled and highly competent. But Kendall was leaning toward bringing someone new to the White House. Well, not new, he thought, but it had been a while. The question was, would he say yes?

CHAPTER TWELVE
    In the cold darkness of early morning, Richter snaked forward on his belly, slowly covering the last few yards to the large oak. He lay still for a second and listened to the sounds in the forest. A silent approach was always a challenge, even more so when the ground was covered with freshly fallen leaves. As he searched for telltale signs that their approach had been compromised, the foliage continued to drift down lazily, landing softly around him. Other than the occasional rustle of the wind through the trees or through the leaves on the ground, he heard nothing. He felt a moment of pride—his team was good. He slowly tilted his head to the side, just enough to see the building. Although sunrise wasn’t for almost two hours, he was careful to keep his face hidden in the brush. The building—or rather the lodge—stood about sixty yards away. He studied the lodge for a minute, noting the location of the doors, the windows, the electric meter—everything was as he had expected.
    Thanks to Google Earth and photos taken from a Bureau plane that had performed a bit of aerial reconnaissance—ostensibly, practicing touch and go’s at a nearby airport—they knew exactly what the building looked like. For the interior, they relied on building plans and a handful of pictures their informant had smuggled out. Armed with this data, they had been able to produce a mock-up for training. Although constructed of facades, they had recreated the great room inside, including the circular banquet tables arranged in front of the chalkboards on one end and the couches and easy chairs arranged in front of the fireplace on the other. On one side was a commercial kitchen, next to that a small storage room, and then a restroom.
    Information