Ghost Sniper: A Sniper Elite Novel by Scott McEwen, Thomas Koloniar Page B

her lip, lost in thought. “Damn, why do I feel like we’re sitting here speaking treason against Caesar?”
    He smiled. “Are we? Is Pope like Caesar now? I don’t know.”
    “Well, the ATRU is slowly becoming his own private army, isn’t it?”
    “You don’t know the half of it.”
    She stared. “What don’t I know?”
    After a moment’s hesitation, he told her about the gold bullion and Pope’s plan for the money. “He’s hitting whoever the hell he wants—based on his own judgement—and he’s hiring free agents off the books; pipe hitters from all over the world.”
    She sat back and took a sip of beer. “Men like you and Gil?”
    He nodded. “And Chance Vaught has just been added to the list. Little by little, Pope is putting together a lethal team—a team of assassins; let’s be honest. And I have no idea how many other cells there are. Or will be.”
    “Will the president stand for it?” Mariana wondered, but seeing Crosswhite’s frown, she checked herself immediately. “Forget I asked that. The president’s never going to know what the ATRU is really being used for or how many men are being recruited.”
    “Or women.” He gave her a wink. “Don’t forget, honey, you helped me remove two of Pope’s enemies from the board. So our little cell already has four assassins—not three.”
    “My God,” she muttered. “He really has become like Caesar. What does Gil think?”
    Crosswhite shrugged, watching off across the lake again. “Therein lies the problem.”
    “Gil believes in him, doesn’t he?”
    “With every breath he breathes.”
    “So what’s going on with the PFM?” she asked, changing the subject. “Why are the Mexicans so keen to use you?”
    “Because of Lazaro Serrano,” he said. “Serrano’s probably going to be PRI’s candidate for president next year, and if he is, he’ll probably win because PRI wins ninety percent of the time down here. If that happens, the cartels are gonna take over this country, and the border war is gonna explode.”
    PRI stood forPartido Revolucionario Institucional—Institutional Revolutionary Party—and it had been Mexico’s most powerful political party over the last thirty years. The PRI was purportedly the more liberal wing of the Mexican government, with PAN supposedly the more conservative, but the two were not as clearly defined as the political parties in the United States were, and, in reality, there was hardly any daylight between them. PAN stood for Partido Acción Nacional, or National Action Party.
    “Is that what Serrano wants? More trouble on the border?”
    “Serrano hates the US, so anything that makes trouble on the border is okay with him, but what he wants is money.”
    “Did the PFM tell you this?”
    He shook his head. “No. There’s something Pope doesn’t know. I’ve been involved in the internal politics down here for a few months now—before this Downly shit kicked off.”
    That worried her. “What are you up to?” she asked quietly.
    “I’m acting as a military advisor to a police chief down in Toluca who’s been fighting his own private war against the Ruvalcaba cartel. It’s what I was trained for.”
    She gaped at him. “Are you crazy? You’ve got a wife and baby to worry about.”
    “I know,” he said. “I know, but I couldn’t sit around with nothing to do, and the guy needed help, so I’ve been spending time down in Toluca training his cops to fight—with American tactics.”
    “You’d better hope Serrano never finds out about that .”
    Crosswhite flicked the ash from the end of his cigarette. “If that fat bastard can hire American mercenaries, why can’t the people who actually give a shit about this country?”
    She glanced around. “How much are you being paid?”
    He laughed. “Ni un peso.” Not a dime.
    Her surprise was evident. “You’re shitting me.”
    “Nope.” He pulled from his beer and set the bottle down on the table. “I took the job for the love of the