“Alexander, please! Don’t go.” The thought of him marching off into the unknown made me feel lightheaded even as his attempts to order me around made me furious. The overflow of emotion was too much on top of everything else. I put a hand out to steady myself against the doorway, knowing I couldn’t stop him. There was nothing I could do but watch him go off into danger. Chris and Miles followed him all the way to the door but didn’t bother to go outside. We all knew a lost cause when we saw it.
Before either the FBI or I was able to talk to him or try and dissuade him further, Alexander was out the front door and into the parking lot. His ridiculous motorcycle roared to life, and as frustrated as I was, my hormones rudely reminded me that he looked absurdly sexy on it. The suit looked a bit strange with the motorcycle and the helmet, but I wasn’t complaining. The stupid, horny part of me that just wanted to roll over on my back and spread my legs for Alexander was still very much interested in him. Chris, Miles, and I could only watch as he sped out of the parking lot. A moment later, a nondescript grey van followed him (his security), along with a blue Lincoln town car (presumably the FBI).
From his position at the door, Miles shook his head and took a bite of his chicken sandwich before handing Chris his own meal. The two of them looked completely exhausted. They were also clearly very hungry. They’d scarfed down the donuts I’d brought them earlier with similar enthusiasm. Both of them looked at me for answers as they scarfed down their sandwiches. But other than sandwiches, I didn’t have anything to offer them. I was completely clueless.
As for me, my appetite was now absolutely nil. Also, I was pretty sure there was some bacon on the sandwich that Alexander got for me, and I didn’t want to pull it apart to confirm it. The label said it was vegetarian, but that one bite had tasted a bit too good. I made a mental note to confront Alexander about it if he didn’t do something stupid and die. Just the thought of that was enough to set my heart beating painfully against my ribs.
I took a long, deep breath to clear my mind. My fear for Alexander’s safety was shockingly real. This was as bad as watching him unconscious in the ambulance on Saturday. Why couldn’t we just go a couple of days without something horrible happening?
I was frightened for Mariana too. The idea that she was involved in the car bombing was terrible, but I knew that there had to be a rational explanation. Maybe her phone was bugged? Maybe she’d been kidnapped? I’d known Mariana for almost six years. She wasn’t the type to suddenly sell out her principles to some gangsters for a quick payout, or even an eight-figure one. She was a good person. I really believed that. There was something more at play with her.
The fact that the FBI didn’t seem incredibly stressed or concerned about Alexander running off into danger should have made me feel better, but it didn’t. There seemed to be some mutual dislike going on between them.
“Does that man ever listen to anyone?” Chris asked as we watched the trio of vehicles turn the corner down the street and disappear in the direction of Mariana’s hotel.
I wish.
23
Alexander
I’d never met Mariana before, although I knew who she was and where she was staying. I had to hand it to Madison, she sent very thorough emails to everyone on the logistical details of the deal. Finding Mariana may not have been extremely difficult, but she had been extremely surprised to see me when I showed up at her door. Surprised and very unhappy. When I’d knocked on the door, she’d opened it only two inches and took one long look at my face before trying to slam it again. I angled my foot into the door and elbowed my way inside despite her protests, nearly tripping over the luggage that sat just inside. It looked like Mariana was just about to leave.
“I take it you know who I am, then,” I said once I managed to put myself between her and the exit, raising an eyebrow condescendingly.
Mariana sank into a chair and started crying.
Crying women are very upsetting to me. They always have been. I can deal with crying babies just fine as a general rule, and crying men are just obnoxious, but for some reason crying adult women make me feel guilty and ill. It’s unbearable. Ordinarily, my solution to the problem of crying women was to remove myself from their immediate vicinity, but that was clearly not an option in this case. This crying woman had information I urgently needed. So, gritting my teeth and resolving not to even attempt to console her, I simply took a seat and waited it out.
I waited.
And waited.
And waited.
After a full ten minutes, Mariana finally regained her composure and turned to face me. I closed the mind-numbing game I’d been playing on my phone to drown out the profusion of notifications on Madison’s incoming texts and looked at her expectantly. She looked back at me warily.
“What do you want?” Mariana asked me in a small, wavering voice that had just the barest hint of an accent. She swept her unkempt dark hair away from her blotchy face and started to groom herself in the mirror on the wall, deliberately turning away. She was an attractive woman in her late forties who looked like she took good care of herself. I could only imagine that a stranger seeing her like this—no makeup, frizzy hair, wearing a pink dressing gown—was something of an ego blow. I politely stared at the ground to give her privacy as she set about polishing her appearance.
“I need to know why you tried to have Madison and I murdered,” I replied calmly. If she were going to try and kill me, she wouldn’t start by sobbing dramatically at me first. At least, that’s what I was banking on. Whatever was going on here, she obviously wasn’t the criminal mastermind behind it.
Although Madison and the FBI probably thought I was a complete moron for rushing over here, I’d done my research on Mariana Rodriguez. She was a skilled attorney from a prominent Colombian family who’d worked on dozens of deals more complex and more politically consequential than this one. It was what she did for a living, and by all accounts she was extremely good at it. If she were going to suddenly sell out, she could probably do a lot better than street-level lowlifes like the Chacón brothers. She had absolutely zero connection to crime and criminals before now.
“They had my family,” Mariana said after a long moment staring in the mirror, “The Chacón brothers took them in broad daylight. They kidnapped my brother and father and said that they would kill them unless I told them how to get to you or someone else in your family.”
She pulled out her phone and showed me a snippet of a video I instantly wished I hadn’t watched. It was filmed somewhere loud and dark. Near a highway maybe? I thought I heard the sound of cars in the background, but it could have been industrial noise. Two men, one in his mid-twenties and one in his fifties, possibly related to Mariana, and both bruised across their faces, begged to the camera in unintelligible but obviously desperate voices. They were kneeling in a dim room somewhere. It looked almost like an ISIS execution video. Whoever was filming was standing in front of them and I could see the unmistakable shadow of a pistol off to the side. I winced.
“What would you have me do?” Mariana continued, “They said they would release them if I told them where you were. You’re in danger now by coming here. They’re probably watching this place.” Her voice was heavy with emotion and unshed tears.
Mariana’s dark eyes, now lined and shadowed in tasteful makeup, entreated me to understand. I did, at least on some level. If someone had kidnapped my family, in spite of our generally strained and unpleasant relationship, there was nothing I wouldn’t do to ensure their safe return. Including selling out a stranger to certain death. Family is family. If you won’t protect your family, who will you protect? I may have done some bad things in my life, but I would never be the sort of person who sold out their own family. Not for their sake, but for mine.
I sighed. The righteous anger that had carried me out of Madison’s office and propelled me toward Mariana’s hotel room, was fading fast. I wasn’t as good at righteous anger as Madison. Without it’s motivating fire, I just
felt tired. Riding the motorcycle made my ribs hurt. Or maybe I was sore from having Madison ride me for several hours last night. Anyway, I was in pain and it was messing with me. I shook my head to try and clear it.
“Ok. Fine. So, you told them where to find me,” I said finally, “you fulfilled your end of the bargain. Did they release them like they said?”
Mariana nodded, still wary of me. “Yes, they were released Saturday night,” she said, “after the bomb was planted. The whole family left last night to go to Rio. I just heard they arrived safely- thank god- right before you came here. I’m going to meet them in just a few minutes. My flight leaves at three. It was the only direct flight out today, or I’d already be gone.”
“You’re running away?” I asked her, disgusted by her cowardice, “After almost getting your friend Madison murdered? That’s very brave.”
Mariana’s face threatened to crumble into tears again, but she successfully fought it back. She stared down her nose at me with as much dignity as she could muster. It wasn’t much, but I respected her for it.
“I had no idea that Madison would still be with you Saturday night. I didn’t want her to be hurt. She was furious that you were blackmailing her. She said she had every intention of getting away from you at her earliest opportunity on Saturday and taking a car home. I…” she trailed off.
“Oh I see,” I snapped irritably, “you were only trying to get me murdered. Thanks for correcting me. After all, I’m a bad guy who deserves to be blown up. I mean, I blackmail people too. Clearly I had it coming.”
Mariana’s brow furrowed as I spoke. She looked more angry than contrite.
“I was only trying to save my brother and my father,” she said after I stopped talking, “If you want me to apologize you can just keep waiting. I’m not sorry for doing what I did to save them. I refuse to apologize for loving them. You have no idea how brutal and violent these people are. You Americans always think the good guys win. Well sometimes they don’t. Sometimes your family members just disappear forever.” She was truly angry now, which in my opinion was a huge improvement over inconsolably weepy.
“Tell that to my broken ribs,” I said dryly. They were technically only bruised but whatever. I almost died. I was angry too, but it was fleeting. “Look, I understand why you did what you did. I’d have done the exact same thing to you. But now your family is safe. Madison though, she’s still in danger. Are you really going to run away when you can still help her? Still help us on the deal? Madison’s still defending you by the way. She’s convinced you had nothing to do with any of this.”
Mariana looked at me for a long, tense moment. She hung her head. “I can’t help you,” she said, “I’ve already told you everything I know.”
I’d been banking on Mariana knowing something about the turncoat among the Colombian delegation. Unfortunately, it didn’t look like she knew anything useful whatsoever. Still, maybe the FBI would be able to make something of her cell phone footage, or the texts from the kidnappers. Maybe she knew something she didn’t even realize she knew. Mariana was somehow the key to solving this, I was sure of it. I was also sure that I didn’t completely trust her.
At some point in the very recent past, starting on Saturday and growing over the past twenty-four hours, my mental calculations about the danger presented by the Colombians had begun to revolve totally around Madison. I knew there were other considerations, including important financial ones, but they utterly paled in priority. The idea that someone would hurt her, harm her in any way, made my blood burn in a way I didn’t fully understand, and could not deal with.
Anyone that stood in the way of protecting Madison, even Mariana, was the enemy. My need to protect Madison was making me unbalanced and impulsive. Maybe it was because Madison was so much kinder and more compassionate than me, or maybe just because she was ungodly sexy and fucked me better than anyone ever had, but getting her out of harm’s way had become my singular focus. There was no chance that I could let Mariana leave without extracting every last bit of useful information she possessed.
I could tell that Mariana was exhausted, overwhelmed, and sick with worry over all of this, probably particularly over Madison. That worry could be used. For the one-hundredth time in this conversation, I was glad that Madison wasn’t present.
“Madison would never leave you here if she knew you were in danger,” I told Mariana firmly, staring her squarely in the eye, “This deal means a lot to her. It means a lot to millions of people, even though they may not know it. Lives will be improved if we are able to get it signed. If the deal falls through, people will suffer. The Chacóns win. Are you really going to run off in fear?”
Mariana blinked at me. Her phone pinged something, probably another desperate text from Madison, and she turned it face down on her lap. She shook her head, but whether the gesture was intended for me or for the sender of the text, was a mystery.
“You wouldn’t let me leave even if I wanted to, would you?” She replied in a voice that dripped disbelief, a curiously cunning look creeping up into her expression. I was surprised by the sudden change in her disposition, but hopefully stifled it before it could show on my face.
“I’m not the kidnapping type,” I replied blandly. Was that really what she thought of me? Violence wasn’t my style at all. Even if it were somehow necessary, I certainly wouldn’t do it myself, and I wouldn’t do something illegal.
“That isn’t necessarily what I meant,” Mariana said, still wearing her skeptical expression, “Tell me right now that if I walked out of here right this second and went to the airport, there wouldn’t be a policeman waiting for me at the gate. Tell me I’d be allowed to leave.”
I actually hadn’t gotten that far in my plan. In hindsight, it made sense that she would be detained as a person of interest… I hadn’t thought of that, either. She probably couldn’t leave the country if she tried. No need to tell Mariana that though. Better that she thought the FBI did send me.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I said evenly, “I have no control over the investigation.”
Mariana looked totally unconvinced by my answer. Her eyebrows were so high up her forehead they looked like they might disappear up into her hairline. I suppose I couldn’t blame her for being skeptical. When you’re a liar it’s easy to imagine other people are too. I knew that from experience.
“You came here all on your own? The police or FBI didn’t send you to ensure my cooperation?” Mariana asked.
“The FBI didn’t send me,” I replied honestly. I dragged my fingers through my hair in frustration. Mariana was giving me a lot more credit than I deserved. “Although I’m sure they’re eager to speak with you, since you’re the only lead we’ve got right now.”
Mariana still didn’t look like she bought my story, but it hardly mattered. I only needed to sell her on the next few points.
“The only lead on what?” She asked sharply, “I already told you everything I know.”
I wanted to tell Mariana the whole truth, but I couldn’t risk that her hotel room was being monitored. She seemed honest, but I knew better than to trust anyone whose family had been used against them. She could still be compromised. I thought carefully about my next words to her.
“According to the FBI, the Chacóns aren’t done yet with trying to shut down the deal. You were only part of their plan. That means Madison is still in danger. The FBI thinks they would have sent someone else to take care of the problem when the car bomb failed. We have no idea who it is, where they are, or when they’ll strike next.”
Mariana’s mouth dropped open into a soft “O” shape. “Oh my god,” she exclaimed in a frightened whisper. She looked around the room like she expected one of the Chacón’s to lunge at her from the corner.
“For all I know, there’s someone out there putting another bomb on my motorcycle right now, or on Madison’s car. We have no idea what sort of danger we’re in,” I continued, sharing my real frustration with her e
ven though I withheld a few crucial details.
Mariana’s expression shifted from regular fear on into horror. As I watched in silence, her eyes eventually hardened out of that horror into a look of resignation and resolve. I knew I had her.
“Ok. You win. Take me to them. Take me to the FBI,” Mariana said.
24
Madison
IHOP. I don’t know why a mediocre pancake place popped into my head as the appropriate place to meet Mariana with the FBI, but it did and I wasn’t going to take it back and make it seem like I had no idea what I was doing, even if I didn’t. At least Chris and Miles seemed fine with it. I guess they liked pancakes.
Alexander texted back that he had never been to an IHOP before, which was unbelievable until I reflected on it for a moment. He was going to hate it. Come to think of it, I really couldn’t imagine him enjoying a diner of any type. He wasn’t a diner type of guy.
“Madison!” Mariana cried as I entered, flanked on either side by stone-faced FBI agents. She threw her arms around my neck, and her weight carried me back a few steps. I could see Alexander radiating tension from a booth a few feet away.
I hugged Mariana back, relieved that she was safe but cautious since Alexander had forced me to realize that she’d been the one behind the car bomb. I was still struggling with understanding how she could do such a thing. She had always been so principled. She was a friend and a mentor to me. Her recent behavior notwithstanding, it would have been wildly out of character for her to run a red light, let alone help murder a friend and a perfect stranger. Perhaps I’d never known her at all.
“Madison please forgive me! I had no choice.” She pleaded as she held my hands. All I could do was nod my head and stare. I wasn’t ready to process my feelings toward Mariana yet.
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