Silent Assassin(82)
Morgan was okay with that. “Who gave you this cocaine?” he asked. “Where did you get it?”
“The Russian. The . . . lobo.” Lobo. Wolf.
Conley pulled out his phone and showed him a photograph of Novokoff. Paulinho nodded.
“That is him. But his face, it was destroyed. Lots of blood. He almost kill one of my men. Punch and kick. Broke ribs and his arm and made him bleed.”
“And you didn’t do anything about it?” Morgan asked.
He shrugged. “Cost of business. But if what you say is true, I cannot allow this shipment to go through. Come. I have something to show you.”
They were led to a balcony, where they could see a sort of courtyard below. A man was chained up to a pole there, bleeding where the chain held him. Morgan soon saw why: in a fit, he started to struggle against the chain, putting the weight of his entire body behind the attempts.
“You need to get them all isolated,” said Morgan. “They’re infected. A disease.”
Paulinho shouted to someone behind him, and the man answered back. “I will do it,” he said. “I do not want any more like this in my favela.”
Valter came forward and began to argue with Paulinho. There seemed to be a lot of tension between the soldiers.
“He says they told the Russian that they’d get that delivered,” said Conley, translating. “Apparently there was a lot of money in it for them, and they’re not likely to see a dime if it doesn’t get to its destination. Valter isn’t happy about the situation, and from the looks of it, he’s not the only one.”
“Let us talk to the Russian,” said Conley. “Arrange a meeting with him. Help us capture him.”
“And what do I get?” asked Paulinho. “For betraying a business partner?”
“Money. Half of what the Russian promised you.”
“Half? Not all? Not double?”
“You release that cocaine, you kill half your clientele,” said Conley. “That’s not cost of business, that’s business suicide.”
“I will think of your proposition,” said Paulinho. “Come back tomorrow and we will talk.”
CHAPTER 45
Rio de Janeiro, February 16
“Let me say for the record that I think this is a terrible idea,” said Captain Siqueira, in English for Morgan’s sake. “These drug lords are scum. Trash. You are stupid to trust him.”
They had gotten their answer from Paulinho: he had promised to help. He’d called Novokoff in for a meeting. His soldiers were going to kill Novokoff’s men and hand over Novokoff himself. After discussing that, Conley had taken Morgan to the BOPE headquarters, where they had laid out the plan before the captain.
“It’s the only way,” said Conley. “We need this man. There’s a lot on the line.”
“Right, right,” said Siqueira. He was reclining in his chair, sucking on a cigarette. The acrid smoke pervaded the tiny office. “The biological weapon. I am impatient about getting it the hell out of my city as well.”
“So you’ll do it?” asked Morgan.
“I may do it,” said Siqueira. “But if I do, it will cost you.”
“If this is done, there will be an anonymous donation to BOPE of one hundred thousand dollars, and the guarantee that overseers will not ask questions about where it came from.”
“I think your pockets are a bit deeper than that, Cougar.”
“Two hundred,” he said.
“Three-fifty,” said Siqueira. “Plus fifty more for any of my men who are injured out there. A hundred for any that are killed.”
Conley looked at Morgan, then back at Siqueira. He was doing the whole dance of negotiating.
“We can make that deal with three hundred up front. No more.”
“I don’t think you are in position to negotiate,” said Siqueira. “You need this, and you have money.”
“I could go with mercenaries,” said Conley. He looked at Morgan, who nodded. “Private contractors. How much do you think they’ll cost me? A fraction.”
“Mercenaries? Pah! Each BOPE man is worth five of them.”
“Three hundred,” said Conley. “And that’s just because I like you so much. So. What’s it going to be?”
Captain Siqueira snorted, then smiled. “Okay, fine,” he said. “You win. Three hundred thousand. We will give you air support. Extract you two with Novokoff from the favela. I want Paulinho AK’s personal assurance that we are not going to draw any fire at all. He needs to know that if anything happens, BOPE declares war on his ass.”
“We’ll make sure to impress that on him,” said Conley.