Page 61
Story: Code Name: Zeppelin
My eyes met Zep’s. “He’s gotten lazy.”
He nodded. “Which means his days are numbered. Either the justice department will catch up with him, or one of the organizations he works for will.”
“I’m sure Decker has access to global facial recognition systems, but maybe we should mention a possible ‘Ndrangheta connection. It might help identify the woman we saw with him at the restaurant,” I suggested.
“I agree. That may lead somewhere. However, I can’t say the same about the alleged bodyguard traveling with him. Whoever he is, he’s smart enough to conceal everything that would make him identifiable.”
Zeppelin was right. He did everything I would’ve done. He wore dark glasses, a nondescript black suit and hat, kept his hands in his pockets, and was very well aware of surveillance cameras, knowing exactly how to position himself so his face was obscured. If only there was something that stood out as different or unique. I continued studying the few images we had of the man, but I didn’t see anything.
“We’ll be landing soon,” said Zeppelin. “It doesn’t appear Godwin has made a move.”
He was right. For the last six hours, he’d remained in the same place. Not only hadn’t he left, but it also appeared he hadn’t moved much inside the suite. “Taking care of billions of dollars belonging to the world’s worst criminals must be exhausting.”
Zeppelin looked over at the tracker on my screen. “Gotta be asleep. Let’s hope he stays that way until we get there.”
“Either that, or he’s dead.”
Zeppelin’s eyes met mine, and he nodded.
17
ZEPPELIN
With an economy second only to Saudi Arabia in the Middle East, the United Arab Emirates was powerful. It was also teeming with billionaires whose asset accumulation was believed to be driven by criminal behavior and corruption. Thus, MI6 had a vast network of agents, informants, and other assets in Dubai as well as in all of the UAE.
By the time our plane landed, a support team of operatives had been put in place, some of whom I’d met during previous missions. Reaper facilitated transport from the airport to the hotel where Godwin was staying. Once there, Reaper, Macht, Verity, and I were instructed to meet on a utility floor, where we’d don tactical gear prior to raiding the penthouse.
Reaper and two other agents would enter the area first, clearing rooms. Macht was assigned to the second team, which would follow immediately behind them, providing backup. Verity and I were in the third group whose primary mission was apprehending Godwin.
That there wasn’t a direct-access elevator to the penthouse worked in our favor as did the time of night. It was close totwenty-three hundred hours when we were in position outside the penthouse door. Having secured an access card to the suite, it all felt far more civilized than most of the previous raids I’d conducted, many of which were in makeshift desert compounds.
The danger, though, was on the same level or higher. The type of people Godwin did business with wouldn’t hesitate to kill the lot of us.
“My count of three,” Reaper said through the comms.
The door’s lock clicked, and the first team moved in, securing rooms and issuing all clears as they went. The second team entered precisely three minutes later.
“Zep, Verity, you better get in here,” Reaper said moments before we were supposed to enter anyway.
An MI6 agent I didn’t know was waiting right inside and pointed toward the back of the suite. When we got to the room, Reaper stood over a body.
“It’s Godwin,” he reported. “Looks to be an execution-style murder.”
His body was on its side, arms bound behind him.
“The bullet entered through the back of the skull,” said Macht, kneeling. Another agent was searching for bullet fragments or casings.
“We’ve cleared every other room,” someone else reported.
“Get the forensics team over here. We’ve got a probable murder weapon,” said Verity, crouching on the floor and pointing near the edge of a sofa.
“Old-school mob hit,” I said, walking over to her.
She nodded. “Those who don’t subscribe to Locard’s exchange principle.”
“Every contact leaves a trace.”
“Once again, arrogance.” She stood and glanced at Godwin’s body. “I saw this coming. The indictment alone put him at risk.”
He nodded. “Which means his days are numbered. Either the justice department will catch up with him, or one of the organizations he works for will.”
“I’m sure Decker has access to global facial recognition systems, but maybe we should mention a possible ‘Ndrangheta connection. It might help identify the woman we saw with him at the restaurant,” I suggested.
“I agree. That may lead somewhere. However, I can’t say the same about the alleged bodyguard traveling with him. Whoever he is, he’s smart enough to conceal everything that would make him identifiable.”
Zeppelin was right. He did everything I would’ve done. He wore dark glasses, a nondescript black suit and hat, kept his hands in his pockets, and was very well aware of surveillance cameras, knowing exactly how to position himself so his face was obscured. If only there was something that stood out as different or unique. I continued studying the few images we had of the man, but I didn’t see anything.
“We’ll be landing soon,” said Zeppelin. “It doesn’t appear Godwin has made a move.”
He was right. For the last six hours, he’d remained in the same place. Not only hadn’t he left, but it also appeared he hadn’t moved much inside the suite. “Taking care of billions of dollars belonging to the world’s worst criminals must be exhausting.”
Zeppelin looked over at the tracker on my screen. “Gotta be asleep. Let’s hope he stays that way until we get there.”
“Either that, or he’s dead.”
Zeppelin’s eyes met mine, and he nodded.
17
ZEPPELIN
With an economy second only to Saudi Arabia in the Middle East, the United Arab Emirates was powerful. It was also teeming with billionaires whose asset accumulation was believed to be driven by criminal behavior and corruption. Thus, MI6 had a vast network of agents, informants, and other assets in Dubai as well as in all of the UAE.
By the time our plane landed, a support team of operatives had been put in place, some of whom I’d met during previous missions. Reaper facilitated transport from the airport to the hotel where Godwin was staying. Once there, Reaper, Macht, Verity, and I were instructed to meet on a utility floor, where we’d don tactical gear prior to raiding the penthouse.
Reaper and two other agents would enter the area first, clearing rooms. Macht was assigned to the second team, which would follow immediately behind them, providing backup. Verity and I were in the third group whose primary mission was apprehending Godwin.
That there wasn’t a direct-access elevator to the penthouse worked in our favor as did the time of night. It was close totwenty-three hundred hours when we were in position outside the penthouse door. Having secured an access card to the suite, it all felt far more civilized than most of the previous raids I’d conducted, many of which were in makeshift desert compounds.
The danger, though, was on the same level or higher. The type of people Godwin did business with wouldn’t hesitate to kill the lot of us.
“My count of three,” Reaper said through the comms.
The door’s lock clicked, and the first team moved in, securing rooms and issuing all clears as they went. The second team entered precisely three minutes later.
“Zep, Verity, you better get in here,” Reaper said moments before we were supposed to enter anyway.
An MI6 agent I didn’t know was waiting right inside and pointed toward the back of the suite. When we got to the room, Reaper stood over a body.
“It’s Godwin,” he reported. “Looks to be an execution-style murder.”
His body was on its side, arms bound behind him.
“The bullet entered through the back of the skull,” said Macht, kneeling. Another agent was searching for bullet fragments or casings.
“We’ve cleared every other room,” someone else reported.
“Get the forensics team over here. We’ve got a probable murder weapon,” said Verity, crouching on the floor and pointing near the edge of a sofa.
“Old-school mob hit,” I said, walking over to her.
She nodded. “Those who don’t subscribe to Locard’s exchange principle.”
“Every contact leaves a trace.”
“Once again, arrogance.” She stood and glanced at Godwin’s body. “I saw this coming. The indictment alone put him at risk.”
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