Deliver Us From Evil (A. Shaw 2)

“What the hell is it to you?”

“Nothing. Whatever. Excuse me for giving a shit. Okay, back to Evan Waller.”

“I don’t like the plan. It has too many holes.”

Surprisingly, Frank nodded. “I agree with you. What do you suggest?”

“Simplifying it. Events on the ground tend to complicate things anyway. Start simple, then if things get hairy they’re still manageable. You start out complicated and things go to hell, it’s not good because there are too many pieces that can go wrong.”

“We know where he lives in Montreal, but taking him there has never gotten authorization from higher up. Too public, too much collateral damage potential, and the guy never keeps to a schedule there. He moves like a ghost, always varying his route and routine.”

Shaw said, “Then we have to find one moment in time in Provence where he does keep to a schedule and the collateral damage is minimal.”

The two men looked at the floor plan of the villa where the human trafficker would be staying. On the wall was a plasma screen containing more data, including all roads in and out of the target area.

Frank clicked a button on a control pad on the table in front of him and a set of pictures came up on the large screen. “He always travels with these guys, all major kick-ass types. And that’s the ones we know about. There may be more as backup.”

“He’ll advance-team the site, lock it down, and then sit on it,” added Shaw as he studied the bodyguards, each one looking tougher, meaner, and more capable than the last. “How reliable is the intel on his travel itinerary?”

“Very. We got it off phone chatter, email, and company credit card transactions.”

Shaw looked up. “Americans? They’ve got the best hard- and software for that.”

“Let’s put it this way, I owe the heads of NSA and CIA a really nice meal.”

Frank pulled out some docs and read over them. “His flight plan was filed. He’s flying from Montreal to Paris in his private wings. Refuel and then on to the airport at Avignon. Short hop in the bird. He typically travels in a three-vehicle motorcade. He’s got car rentals reserved in Avignon.”

Shaw pushed a button on the laptop and another picture came up, an exterior shot of the street where Waller’s rental was located. “There’s a villa next door.”

“Already leased to someone.”

“Who?”

“Did a prelim. Tourist. Looks absolutely clean.”

“Right next door, though?”

“Gordes is a very popular destination and those villas are in high demand. We couldn’t exactly stop them from being leased without raising a big red flag. But it doesn’t matter. We’re not doing the snatch in Gordes. Too much collateral damage possibility.”

Shaw looked at another computer screen that gave a partial itinerary for Evan Waller. He sat up straighter. “How do you know he’s going to the caves at Les Baux-de-Provence?”

“He had to get special permission for the tour and we accessed that data.”

“Why? Isn’t it open to the public?”

“Well, our Mr. Waller wanted a very private tour. Closed off to the public. To make that happen he paid big bucks. The place is in private hands. They can do what they want. When we saw the payment going to them we hacked their computer system and found the schedule. So we know the exact date he’ll be there.”

Shaw swiveled in his chair to face another computer whose hard drive was clean except for factory-loaded software, including a browser. They used it to connect to the Internet. He hit some keys and read over the results. “Okay, I’ve actually heard of this place. It’s a photo-exhibition gallery; light show on the rock walls, a narrated tour, recorded documentary, yada yada. They choose a different artist each year.” He sat, mulling this new information over. “I think we have our extraction location.”

He spun the laptop around and let Frank look at the screen. It was information about the exhibition venue. “The caves have one entrance, lots of rooms, and few attendants, so it’s easy to get lost or disoriented. We cut the power source and the extraction team is already in place with optics and one-shot-and-drop tranquilizer guns. We separate the boss from the muscle and off we go.”

Frank thought about this. “Limits collateral damage too. We’ll need eyes on the ground ahead of time to confirm all the details.”

“No argument there. But what better place to take a rat than in a hole?”

“But if the hit misses at the caves the guy’s going to be on his private wings out of France.”

Shaw sat back. “It’s not perfect, but it’s the best we can do under the circumstances. His trip to the caves is the only time we’ll know for sure where he’ll be going. And I really don’t see how we can miss.”