The convoy has driven all night up the narrow twisting road, little more than a goat path, in the hope of arriving here unseen.Looking through binoculars, Keller sees that the village is still asleep, so no one has raised an alarm.Luis Aguilar shivers behind him.The two men don’t like each other. — The first meeting of the “Barrera Coordinating Committee,” held the day after Keller arrived in Mexico City, was inauspicious.“Let’s have things clear between us,” Aguilar said as soon as they sat down. “You are here to share your knowledge of the Barrera organization. You are not here to cultivate your own sources, take independent action, or do surveillance or any other intelligence gathering. I will not have another gringo wiping his boots on my turf. Do we understand each other?”Everything about Luis Aguilar had an edge to it—from his aquiline nose, to the press of his trousers, to his words. “We have resources of our own,” Keller answered. Satellite surveillance, cell phone intercepts, computer hacks, information developed in the States.
