by P J Skinner
‘I will. Promise me to listen to what he says and not put yourself in any danger.’
‘I promise.’
‘Please be careful. And let me know you are safe.’
‘Papi, I’m not certain if there will be a telephone in any of the villages, but I’ll call you as often as I can.’
***
‘Segundo? The trip is on again. I need you to wait for the car at the crossroads in San Francisco,’ said Hernan Sanchez
‘Okay boss, I’ll be there,’ said Segundo Duarte.
‘My daughter’s going to be with Sam Harris. Do you remember her?’
‘I didn’t meet her, boss. I took Wilson Ortega to El Loco’s house before she came out of the jungle with Alfredo last year.’ He paused. Hernan waited. ‘Sorry to ask this, but do we need her as well? Another woman on the trip will only add to the difficulties.’
‘Honestly Segundo, sometimes I don’t understand where you get your caveman ideas. Both my daughter and the gringa are resourceful and intelligent. They’re the only reason that we found out where Alfredo’s being held. Please don’t doubt me. Gloria’s always safer with Sam around.’
‘Yes, boss, I’m sorry. The twentieth century left me behind I guess.’
But he wasn’t sorry. Segundo thought that women were trouble and only slowed men down. They were always crossing themselves when they met him, making him feel like a monster, because of his crooked mouth. He certainly didn’t need the help of a gringa who probably didn’t even speak Spanish.
***
In London, Hannah opened the door to find her mother standing on the doorstep.
‘Hi, Mummy, was I expecting you? My memory is terrible.’
Her mother pushed past her and walked straight into the kitchen where she filled the kettle.
‘Mummy? Is something wrong?’
Her mother turned around grasping the counter behind her for support and looked her in the eye.
‘How can you ask me that? You’re the one who should realise what’s wrong.’
A feeling of panic overcame Hannah. Oh God, she knew. But how? She couldn’t find any suitable words.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You don’t fool me with that act missy, you know exactly what I mean. You and Mr Slimy. I saw you.’
‘So, we had coffee together. What’s the big deal? Can’t I have a coffee with Simon if I want? You should have come in and joined us.’
‘Joined you? Are you mad? It was a lot more than coffee I saw him sharing with you last week. Snogging in the street like teenagers. How could you? What about your sister?’
Hannah sank down onto a chair. Things were much worse than she suspected. There was no easy way out of this conversation.
‘You saw us kissing? When was that?’
‘Who cares what day it was? You were kissing your sister’s boyfriend at nine in the morning. He came out of your house. It’s bloody obvious he stayed the night with you. You were still in your dressing gown. Don’t lie to me.’
Hannah sighed. Even an inveterate liar like her, couldn’t think of a reasonable explanation for that.
‘Mum, I’m sorry, it happened. Simon’s hard to resist and I was drunk when he turned up. What else can I say.’
‘You’re a wicked girl trying to use alcohol as an excuse. What about your sister? Didn’t it occur to you how much this will hurt her?’
‘It has, and I was determined that it would never happen again, but Simon and I like each other a lot. The truth is that we’re better suited than they are. It’s not the first time in history a man has seduced more than one sister in a family.’
‘How can you say that? How can you trample over Sam’s heart without a care in the world? I don’t understand. What are you going to say when she comes home?’
‘Look, Mum, I don’t know if this will last that long but we had to try because there was that atmosphere between us every time we met. Our feelings needed to be explored, to see if they were real.’
‘What about Sam’s feelings? Hasn’t she been hurt enough?’
‘That’s the thing, Mummy. She should find someone else who won’t hurt her instead of hanging on like grim death to someone who always will. And don’t lie to me, either. You don’t think he’s good enough for Sam. You’d be relieved if she broke up with him for good.’
Matilda Harris sighed. Hannah had hit the nail on the head.
‘Yes, that much is true. But why did it have to be you? That’s a double betrayal for Sam. She won’t understand. And don’t fool yourself, you’ll be crying on my shoulder in several months’ time when he gets bored and finds someone else. How much sympathy do you imagine you’ll get from us?’
‘I’m a big girl, and much better at this than Sam. Simon can’t fool me.’
Matilda shook her head. Her face was a collage of different expressions fighting for supremacy. Finally, she shrugged.
‘On your head, be it.’
***
Sam packed her rucksack with essentials: penknife, chocolate, camera, teabags, floppy hat, passport, collapsible water bottle. At the last minute she put in the snake bite zapper, just in case. She could see her father nodding in approval. Bags packed, she lounged on the sofa staring at the volcano in its white cloak of snow. While Sam waited, Gloria floated around the house chain smoking and singing out of tune and throwing random things into her bag. Suddenly she went quiet and dived into the bathroom. Sam could hear her retching.
‘Gloria, are you okay?’
‘Yes, I think so, I felt nauseous all of a sudden. I guess it’s the shock of learning that Alfredo is still alive. It’s quite a lot to take in.’
‘You poor thing. I can’t believe you have to go through this.’
‘It was a lot worse when I thought he was dead.’
‘Very funny.’
‘Are you ready?’
‘Yes.’
‘Okay then, let’s load the car. Segundo should be waiting at a crossroads outside of Calderon. We must try and find him before dark.’
They drove out of the underground garage in time to miss the evening traffic. Gloria pulled into the pavement and went to talk to the building’s security guard.
‘Washington, I will be away for a few days. Please don’t let anyone go up to the apartment until I come home.’
He noted it into his book while she stood there with her hands on her hips.
‘Can I ask where you are going Miss Sanchez, in case anyone asks?’
‘I’m going to pick up Dr Vargas,’ she said. Then she remembered what Inspector Torres had told them and didn’t elaborate. She didn’t see Kleber Perez, who was hidden behind a van, copying the number plate of the car onto a piece of paper. Jumping into the car again, she turned to Sam. ‘Right, let’s go then.’
As they drove off, Kleber approached the guard.
‘Good afternoon,’ he said, ‘I see that Miss Sanchez has left. I was hoping to talk to her about Alfredo Vargas.’
‘Oh, well, she’s going to collect him, I believe,’ said the guard.
‘Where?’
‘I’m sorry, I don’t know. Who are you? ‘
‘Kleber Perez. I work for the Ministry of Public Works. We need Dr Vargas’ advice on a project we are undertaking.’
Washington, who was not an educated man, was no fool. He knew that it was unlikely that the Ministry of Public works would be consulting anyone about anything. They did whatever they wanted. He was extra-protective of the glamorous Miss Sanchez and fancied himself as her bodyguard.
‘I am not at liberty to tell you,’ he said.
***
Perez was annoyed that he couldn’t get any gossip from the guard but he saw the stubborn look on the man’s face and he knew it was hopeless. The women had to be stopped before they stumbled across the truth. He went straight to the nearest phone booth and rang Holger Ponce.
‘Minister, I’m sorry to disturb you, but the
Sanchez woman and her gringa friend have left Calderon in a car which is loaded up with supplies. It looks like they are going to San Blas.’
‘Why are they going? Don’t they read the newspapers? I had that article put on the front pages. I can’t believe they are so stubborn. They will ruin everything.’
Kleber waited while the Minister ranted on.
‘I am sorry Minister, it appears that they believe Alfredo Vargas is alive.’
‘Who told you that?’
‘I heard Miss Sanchez tell the guard in her building. Would you like the registration number of the car?’
‘What? Oh, yes, of course. Tell me.’
‘PG2 36S’
‘Thank you Kleber. That will be all. I’ll contact you if I need you.’
***
Holger Ponce rummaged through a drawer in his desk and pulled out an address book. He leafed through the pages, breathing heavily with agitation. Having found the number, he was looking for, he pulled the telephone towards him and dialled. Despite the care with which he entered the numbers, the call took several tries to go through. The high-pitched tone which indicated congestion on the lines seemed to go straight through his head. He could feel his heart tightening in his chest with panic. The phone rang for nearly a minute before it was answered by Boris Klein, who was panting as if he been running.
‘Hello, Klein here.’
‘Boris? It’s Holger Ponce. I need to talk to you. I received some important information from Kleber Perez.’
‘Who?’
‘Kleber, the boy who works with me in the Ministry.’
‘Oh yes, that boy. What did he have to say for himself?’
‘He has been watching the block of flats where Hernan Sanchez’ daughter lives and he saw her leave with the English woman. They were travelling in a car full of supplies. He thinks they are heading for San Blas to look for Dr Vargas.’
‘For fuck’s sake! Didn’t you plant the article like I told you?’
Yes, it was on the front page of the newspapers. For some reason, Miss Sanchez has chosen to ignore it. It’s not my fault.’
‘No, I’m sorry, but it’s still a disaster as far as our timing is concerned. We are so close now.’
‘I thought I ought to give you fair warning. I expect it will take them a couple of days to get there.’
‘At least. Thank you, Holger. It appears that you can fool some of the people some of the time but not Miss Sanchez. She must have received some information that made her think that Dr Vargas was not dead.’
‘What do you want me to do?’
‘I need you to put some pressure on Hernan Sanchez. She’s certain to ring her father from the road. Warn him of the consequences if she sticks her neck out too far.’
‘I’ll ring him now.’
‘Oh, and Holger, how old is the gringa?’
‘Hang on, I have a copy of her passport here somewhere.’
He opened the drawer again and pulled out a piece of paper.
‘According to her passport, she’s about thirty.’
‘Is she white?’
‘Yes, and it says here that she has brown hair and green eyes. What are you getting at?’
‘Nothing to concern you. Contact Hernan Sanchez and do everything you can to force him to stop her interfering.’
‘I will.’
Holger Ponce hung up the telephone and lit a cigarette. He took several long drags, holding the smoke in his lungs until he felt his pulse slow and his panic diminish. Stubbing out the cigarette, he reopened his address book and looked up Hernan Sanchez’s number. He dialled it deliberately, listening to the clicks as each number registered.
‘Hello?’
‘Hernan? It’s Holger Ponce.’
A grumpy voice asked, ‘What do you want now?’
‘Your daughter has set off for San Blas. No good can come of this. I want you to tell her to return.’
‘How do you find out? Are you having her watched?’
‘It’s none of your business. I can’t answer for her safety if she doesn’t stop now.’
‘What on earth is going on down there, Holger? This is getting out of hand. Can’t you do something?’
‘They are working on a top-secret project and have been for forty years. These people are fanatics and I can’t stop them. You must tell your daughter to come home before it’s too late.’
‘And who says that she’s going to call me?’
‘She’ll check in with you. Let’s hope for her sake that she does. Those roads are dangerous. Look what happened to Dr Vargas.’
‘You bastard, how dare you threaten me? If anything happens to her, I shall cut off your dick and shove it down your throat.’
‘It’s not in my hands now. I suggest you follow instructions or I can’t be responsible for what happens.’
He hung up before Hernan Sanchez could come up with a retort.
***
Sanchez swore and threw the receiver back into its cradle. This was getting out of hand. As much as he trusted Segundo Duarte to keep the women safe, he couldn’t risk anything happening to them. When he had built the road to San Blas, there had been no indication of anything strange going on. He had been impressed by the speed with which the Germans were building the village but they wouldn’t let him bid for any of the contracts there. He couldn’t imagine what was going on that was so secret and so deadly to anyone who found out. There had to be something he could do to even the playing field. If only there was some way of exposing them. And then he remembered Ramon Vega’s report. What better way of opening the whole can of worms than to reveal the real identities of these people? They would be forced to abandon the project and flee the country.
He went to his wife’s dresser and removed the report again. Finding DHL’s number in the phone book, he contacted them and asked them to come and collect a document for immediate transport to Miami. Then he put the report in an envelope and sealed it with tape. He went into the kitchen and put it on the table.
‘Rosa? The man from DHL will be here in an hour or so. Can you please give him this envelope?’
‘Of course, sir.’
He still felt a little emotional and panicky. He was exposing himself to the criticism that would result from the publication of such inflammatory information. It was tempting to change his mind but his daughter was his life. To the surprise of Rosa and the building security guard, he decided to take a walk to calm his nerves. It had been years since he had voluntarily walked anywhere and he felt a bit self-conscious. It took him a while to get into the rhythm but soon he had gathered speed. He walked around the block, stopping to eat an ice cream in the pizza place, and by the time he got home again, he was calm but his blood was still boiling. He’d had about enough of Holger Ponce. That bastard was going down this time, but not until the girls were safe.
***
Night fell in San Blas where Dr Becker and Boris Klein were eating at the hotel. Klein wolfed down his dinner, disgusting Kurt Becker who was a stickler for good manners. He spoke before swallowing, giving Becker an unwanted view of his last mouthful.
‘The Sanchez bitch is on her way with the Englishwoman. They think they can rescue Dr Vargas. This is a complete farce.’
‘It’s becoming like a soap opera.’
‘However, I venture to suggest that it presents us with an opportunity as well.’
‘How so?’
‘The Englishwoman is the perfect incubator. She’s Anglo-Saxon, in her thirties. I didn’t want you to use a non-Aryan. The blood of the Führer must not be contaminated.’
‘But we can’t keep her here, they will find her.’
‘I have been thinking that we should contact Argentina. It’s about time we moved down there. Sierramar is no longer safe. How close are you?’
‘In theory, I am ready. We may only get one chance at this rate.’
‘I can’t believe it. After all these years of
work, we may be thwarted at the last by a Jew, a drunk and an Indian.’
‘Sounds like a joke.’
‘There’s nothing funny about it. Get ready for the implantation. Nothing can be allowed to go wrong.’
CHAPTER XXIII
There’s a package for you, Mr Vega,’ said the receptionist, flicking her hair back and giving him a laser-beam smile.
Ramon Vega, who had been crossing the lobby of the Miami hotel at speed in order to avoid her, turned reluctantly back to the desk.
‘A package? Excellent.’
She handed it to him without letting go and stared at him. There was an awkward silence.
‘Thank you, Silvia,’ he said, tugging it out of her grasp, ‘much appreciated.’
‘Have a nice day,’ she replied, with an insincerity that made him feel even more guilty. Was it his fault that American women loved Latino men? She had practically begged for it and now he had to put up with her resentful stares. He had been going to change hotels, but the thought that Hernan Sanchez might repent and send his research report to him had kept him there. His luck had changed. He recognised the weight and thickness of his report in the courier’s envelope. Gloria must have convinced her father to send it. Now it was up to him to get it published and he knew the place. Without opening it, he spun around and walked back through the revolving door into the pouring rain.
The hotel concierge got him a cab and he jumped in, tipping the man a couple of dollars.
‘Take me to the offices of the Miami Herald please.’
‘The one in Biscayne Bay?’
‘Yes, that’s the one.’
During the ride to the offices, Ramon took his report out of the package and read some of it again. He had no doubt that it was explosive stuff and that his life would never be the same after he handed it over. Would he even be able to go home again? Could he claim refugee status in Miami? Mostly, he wondered why Hernan Sanchez had changed his mind.
‘Here we are, sir,’
‘Thanks. Keep the change.’
Ramon walked to the main doors and went in unchallenged. He breezed up to the reception wearing his best smile and looking into the woman’s eyes from under his dark, floppy fringe.
‘Good afternoon. I need to see Guido Luna, please.’
