“I have understood them from the beginning,” said the president. “But I cannot see any way to curtail my activities here.”

“The festival for Independence Day,” said Garza. “That has to be left off the schedule.”

Vargas stopped, sitting down on his bed. “This visit is where we set the tone for my entire administration. I understand that the treaty has angered the cartels. That is its purpose, in large part.”

Garza said, tamping down her impatience, “This is not a cartel. This is a lone assassin. I am sure of it.”

Vargas clapped his hands once. “Who is dead set on making an example of me? If you know he is here, and know his intent, is it not that much easier to forestall him?”

“Not this man. He is killing everyone who has aided him in coming here. I believe there is no way to deter him from his goal.”

Vargas said, “I have not known you well for many years now. But your reputation is such that I would think you could not back down from such a challenge.”

Garza bristled at this second reference to her “reputation” in a matter of hours. “It is quite a different matter when the life of the Mexican president is at stake.”

“Granted,” he said. “Which do you want more? To save me? Or to catch this Chuparosa?”

“I want both. They go hand in hand.”

“And trust me, I have no desire to be a . . . a piece of bait. But allow me do my job, and I will allow you to do yours. Tomorrow will be a great day, signing the treaty on the anniversary of our country’s independence.” He checked his wristwatch. “Now, if you will excuse me, I am due at the UN for a meeting with the Costa Rican ambassador and I am already running late.”

CHAPTER 41

Elian Martinez was looking in the mirror, straightening his black bow tie, when he heard the door buzz.

“You expecting anyone?” he called to his wife, Kelli.

“No,” she called back.

“Guess I better get it then,” he said.

There’d been some push-in robberies in the neighborhood lately, the same guy in every case, forcing his way into women’s apartments, stealing their stuff, beating them up. Elian figured it was always better to have a male voice answer the buzzer.

He came out of the bathroom, pulling on his coat. He was going to be late for work if he didn’t get lucky with the traffic.

He pushed the button on the intercom. “Yes?”

A voice in Spanish came back, “Señor Martinez, it’s Sergeant Benividez with the Policía Federal. We’re here for the credentials inspection.”

“The what?”

“I’m sure the Secret Service informed you. We’re part of President Vargas’s advance team. We’re validating the credentials of everyone who’ll be—”

“Ah, sí, momento, momento!” He pressed the button releasing the lock down in the vestibule. He could hear the buzz of the lock mechanism right through the wall.

“What is it?” Kelli said. She spoke no Spanish. Elian was getting his Ph.D. at NYU, moonlighting as a waiter. He and Kelli had met the first day of grad school and they were both finishing up their dissertations in Econ. He could practically taste the money he’d be making on Wall Street come this time next year. But in the meantime, they were currently clipping coupons and pulling nickels out of the couch cushions, just trying to get by.

Elian said to her, “I told you about President Vargas, right?”

Kelli said, “Only about twenty times.”

“Hey, give me a break. I think it’s cool, I might be personally serving the president of Mexico.”

“Why don’t you slip him your résumé inside his oysters?”

“Ha ha. Though actually not a bad idea.”

There was a knock on the door.

Elian opened the door and let two men into the room. They were both wearing dark suits, sunglasses. A big guy and a medium-sized guy. The big guy seemed a little out of shape to be presidential security, but this was Mexico, maybe their standards were different than the United States.

“Come in, come in,” Elian said, ushering them in. “Sorry about this . . . the mess.”

The smaller man entered first, looking around. He acted very official. “We’ll make this nice and quick,” he said. “Sorry for the inconvenience. We just need to see your credential documents yet again, to log you into the database. This won’t take but a few minutes.”

Elian frowned. “The Secret Service said they were taking care of everything. Is there some reason why—”

“We have to double-check every detail,” the man said, smiling broadly. “It is a redundancy, I agree. But that is our job. Be assured, you will see us at least one more time before the event. You understand how it is.”

Elian nodded as though he did. “Sure, sure, no problem.” Elian just wanted to get it over with so he could get to work. He went back into the bedroom, pulled out the manila envelope they’d given him the other day, and carried it back into the main room. He emptied the contents onto the hall table. “Is this what you’re looking for?”

“Exactamente.”

Elian hadn’t really looked in the envelope yet. There was a plastic ID with a hologram running across his photograph, plus some kind of itinerary with a big official-looking seal on it and a letter of instruction. The big man picked up everything from the envelope, then nodded to the other man. The other man took out a small digital camera and snapped a picture of each item, front and back.

“Muy bueno,” he said, when he was finished. “Muchas gracias, my friend. Your cooperation is most appreciated.”

“De nada,” Elian said. “Is that it?”

“That is all for now, señor.”

Elian nodded, thinking, That was easy, and opened the door for the men. They departed without handshakes, walking straight to the hallway elevator.

After Elian had closed the door, and heard the elevator door open and close, he felt oddly relieved. Something about authority figures, especially such humorless ones as those, always bugged him.

“Are they gone already?” asked Kelli, coming out of the bathroom with her head tilted, sliding a small pearl earring into her right earlobe. She tended bar in a midtown hotel three nights a week and was also getting ready for work. Kelli was a beautiful woman, with porcelain skin, red hair, and very green eyes that had a skeptical expression. Even now, after he’d known her for four years, she still seemed impossibly exotic to him. “That was super quick,” she said.

“Just checking up on me, I guess,” said Elian.

“Well, wouldn’t they have copies or something? Why would they need to take pictures of it?”

“He said it was just a verification process.” Elian shrugged. One thing he did know was that you didn’t get anywhere by bugging Mexican cops with a bunch of questions. He was lucky they left without demanding a bribe. Plus, beneath his grin, the shorter man gave Elian the impression that nothing would give him more pleasure than having to tune up a reluctant civilian with a nightstick. And the guy with the big gut . . . he looked even worse.

“Huh,” Kelli said.

“It’s fine,” Elian said, stealing a kiss from her. “I gotta go, baby.”

“I’m coming with,” she said.

He opened the door and slipped his arm around her narrow waist, feeling like the luckiest guy in the world. She wore a green dress that matched her eyes, tight as a glove on her slim torso. All those jerks at the hotel bar would be perving over her, hitting on her, trying to get her phone number. And every night Kelli came home to him. Him! It amazed him sometimes.

By the time he got to the bottom of the staircase, he had forgotten all about the men from the Policía Federal.

CHAPTER 42

The essence of executive protection, as performed by the Secret Service, is to examine an event and its location in excruciating detail, then to provide a plan for every contingency. Every conceivable form of attack is imagined and planned against, with backups and backups to the backups and fallback plans and worst-case scenarios. The direct ring of protection around the principal is provided by a protection detail that moves with him or her. Around that ring is a secondary layer of protection primarily composed of Secret Service agents whose position is generally stationary—but which may include special local law enforcement assets—bomb-sniffing dogs and their handlers, snipers and executive protection specialists. This ring secures the facility rather than the individual. Then around that is the largest ring of security, which is generally composed primarily of local law enforcement. This third ring is responsible for the lowest-level functions like traffic control, running metal detectors, and guarding barricades—but also includes specialty units like SWAT, air units, bomb squads, and so on.