Chapter 4: The invasion

The plane landed, and the three agents stepped out.

"It will take a long time to plan this, but we need to act quick." Vaughn informed them. "Each of you check into the Holiday Inn three miles away. At 4 o'clock, we'll meet in my room, room 474. I will leave the door open, and the S.W.A.T. team will enter from there. For now, we have a few hours to spare," he told them, winking at Sydney. He knew what he had planned, and she took the hint too. But Dixon had other plans.

The scene at the hotel lobby was very amusing. First, Sydney and Vaughn checked in together. In perfect Portuguese, Vaughn and the clerk began to settle rooming arrangements for him and his beautiful "wife." They were escorted to the elevator, where Dixon saw the overhead display show they were headed for the 4th floor. After a few minutes of waiting, he approached the desk.

"Cumprimentos," he said, greeting the clerk.

"Ahh, senhor Dixon. Your room is already taken care of. The senhor you wanted to see is waiting for you," the bellhop responded without emotion.

"Obrigado," Dixon replied, thanking the bellhop. From there, Dixon headed towards the stairs. Call it paranoid, but if he was being tracked, the elevator would have been rigged for him. When he reached his room, on the top floor of the 15-story building, Dixon pulled out his key. Looking around, he inserted it into the door, and appeared to have difficulty opening the door. What he really did was press a button on the keychain he put his key on, calling the room to let his mysterious partner know it was he. When he finally did open the door, a dark figure sat in a chair, facing the window. Cigar smoke hovered above the man.

"Du bist spät," came a hardened, baritone voice in German, telling Dixon he was late.

"Hallo to you to," Dixon said with mock apologies.

"I understand why you hate Sloane so much. Even while working with him, I sensed a certain evil within him that rose above the corruptness he claimed he saw in his country. His killing your wife crossed an unspoken line. Yes, I will help you." With this, the man stood up from his chair, and as he crossed over into the shadows, his face was clouded in cigar smoke. Dixon couldn't recognize him.

"Danke," Dixon replied, thanking the man. The C4 must already be in place. It was a safety precaution, in case Dixon missed his sniper shot again. But he wouldn't.

* * *

Come 4 o'clock, the three agents met once again, this time in Vaughn's room. Dixon noticed the box of condoms on Vaughn's bureau, and the way his hair was slightly ruffled. That, and the fact that Sydney was hiding a champagne bottle when he entered gave away what Dixon expected to find there. There was also a S.W.A.T. team leader with them, who would have to know the plans as well. Michael set up a makeshift briefing room, with his laptop at one end, four chairs around it, and a set of blueprints on the table. "Now, we believe Sloane's hiding in this building," he said, bringing up a photo of an adoption agency. "Normally, we'd send Sydney and I in, saying she or I were infertile, or Dixon and I would go in as a gay couple. But today, that's not the plan. Take a look at these blueprints. In the back, there's an entry to the ducts, that's gonna be our route. One piece of tech Marshall did not provide you with is these:" and with great flourish, he produced almost 25 boxes of thermal-goggles, meant to track heat signals. "I don't think I have to explain these, do I? Crawl through the ducts, make our way into the basement, find a guard who would have access to the downstairs facility, take his prints, and full-scale assault the office. Got it?"

"No," came Dixon's reply. "Just one question," he said, reaching into his pocket. Quickly, he pulled out the spork, and nailed his three co-conspirators in the heart, allowing the sedative to travel quickly through the blood stream. Taking out his PDA, he checked again on Sloane's location. It was still exactly where it had been all night. Hopefully, he was sleeping, and Dixon would have him with his pants down. Otherwise, things might not go so well. It was possible that Sloane was expecting the attack.

* * *

Back in Los Angeles, Francie made a call. "They fell for it, sir. They bought our doctored conversations with Will and you. But there's a slight complication. Sydney just left, and according to what I can deduct, she's heading to São Paulo. Sir, they're headed for you. I'd suggest you leave immediately."

The response that came chilled the imposter to the bone. "Sloane's not available at the moment. I hope you didn't have anything important to tell him, because you'll never get the chance."