by Ronda Pauley
They walked over to the adjoining apartment, the temporary headquarters for Operation Missing Shoe.
Big Sam related the highlights of the analysts’ report. He said Calista was holding to her story that Abbi thought she was coming onto her because she asked her out and that, offended, Abbi became angry and attacked her.
Everyone laughed, especially when they were shown the evidence.
“There is no doubt in my mind that last night’s video shows Calista in a murder attempt. That knife at the door is a clincher. We’ll get our confession eventually, probably when we question her about her connection to Fernando and the brutal killing of a young pregnant girl who testified against NM2. We think that was very likely the same knife.”
Abbi shuddered. Louise reached over to her and gave her a hug.
Mr. Pelletier walked in and announced that the Smart Shoes were, indeed, in Virginia now.
“That’s very good news!” Big Sam said. “We need everyone alert and in their places today. Help yourself to a doughnut. Maybe two. There’s plenty of coffee. Drink up. It could be another long day.”
Big Sam pulled Abbi and Louise aside and told them the details of an important meeting of dignitaries from Latin American countries to take place a few minutes. After that, Abbi would meet with the ambassador. From there, the girls would be led covertly to another building as yet undisclosed. The success of the private meeting with the ambassador would determine the next step and could actually result in successfully freeing her mother from the hostage situation.
Abbi’s role in meeting with the ambassador would be to provide a few more key pieces of information related to her findings about NM2, since his information seemed lacking, and to show the connection between them and her mother’s kidnapping. Diplomacy was key and the ambassador could be a huge help if the FBI could re-establish negotiations.
“We’ll take rappelling gear and hope that today’s the day,” Big Sam said. “I got them to see the light on fixing the drop problem, at your request, little lady. We figured, if you knew your mother was in Virginia, we’d better listen to you! By the way, the GPS device in the Smart Shoes still works, and we now know her exact location.”
The girls put on their badges and left the museum. Big Sam threw her rappelling gear into the trunk. Scott drove. They headed immediately to The House of the Americas by car.
This time, when Louise pointed to landmarks, they were in the privacy of the car under Big Sam’s watchful eye. Abbi no longer had the paranoid sense of being followed.
The Organization of American States looked relatively unchanged on the outside, remaining white, ornate and beautiful with its marble steps that led up to the portico. The colorful flags of Central American countries continued to sway majestically in the breeze and made shadows in the sunlight, as if nothing bad had happened there. But the large entrance doors were closed now and heavily guarded, allowing limited access.
Abbi walked into the building without delay with Louise and Big Sam close behind. The same security guard, the woman who had been annoyed with Abbi previously, walked over and gave Abbi the eerie feeling of déjà vu. Abbi smiled and successfully passed the security wand without incident. Abbi and Louise walked over to the marble staircase, looking professional in their matching suits.
They were to wait in the lobby until a break in the session. Big Sam, finally through security, stayed a distance away from them. The girls were to go upstairs and approach the ambassador with a secret message from HT. While she watched and waited patiently, Abbi pieced together more of the puzzle.
Eventually, the upstairs meeting room door opened and people began to mingle and pour out into the balcony area. Abbi saw this as her cue to walk up the stairs. She noticed that the damaged railing had been replaced. She passed by the room where she had met Mrs. Hightower. She would have just ten minutes to make her impression and to request help for the rescue efforts.
Abbi approached the doorway as the ambassador shook hands with members of his audience who were exiting. When he saw her before, she wasn’t wearing a wig of a different cut and color.
“I’m Miss Kowalski and I’m looking for the missing shoe,” Abbi said.
“Pleased to meet you!” the white-haired ambassador said, shaking Abbi’s hand. He gave no sign of recognition. “I’m Ambassador Marquez.”
His English was quite good, with a delightful hint of one of the Hispanic dialects but he barely looked at Abbi.
“Yes, I know,” she said. “We met before, in Virginia, at the law complex. I’m Miss Kowalski. And this is my assistant, Miss Soufflé.”
“Oh!” he said. He raised one eyebrow slightly and looked cautiously down at the conservatory and toward the gathering of people near the door in the lobby. People seemed in a hurry to leave.
“I am very proud of you, very proud indeed! You don’t even know it, Miss Kowalski, but you probably saved several lives earlier this week! Thank you also for the additional information I received this morning. It’s always good to know who your enemies are as well as who they are not.”
His eyes were not focused on either of the girls but he continued softly, “Then you have a message for me.”
Abbi said, “Yes. Operation Shoe Drop will be carried out today.”
The ambassador immediately stood rigid and looked down over the banister to the conservatory. He spotted Big Sam and nodded his recognition.
“Very good! Miss Kowalski, I’m afraid this is not a good place for us to talk, but I am so glad to see you and wish to take you to another location for your safety. We have abruptly adjourned our meeting due to recent terrorist activity, so if both of you young ladies will follow me…”
The ambassador indicated that he wanted Big Sam to follow also. They went through a hallway and down the back set of stairs where Big Sam met them.
Using his pass card at an exit, he said, “This is our tunnel. It connects this building with various governmental office buildings.”
The tunnel, rectangular in shape and well-lit, was wide enough to drive golf carts through but the four of them were alone in the tunnel at this time. It looked similar to any hallway in a government office building, with restrooms, telephones, and surveillance cameras strategically placed. This one was off-limits to the general public.
“I had planned to make an announcement today about Operation Shoe-In. We thought, until we received the message a few minutes ago, that Miss Shoe was in Mexico and that we would need to arrange an extraction with the Mexican Government. Your arrival proves timely indeed. It appears that the name of the operation has changed to Operation Shoe Drop. I can make my announcement in a press conference later, after its success.”
“No press conference, please,” Big Sam said. “We’re going to try to keep this under wraps, hoping for a successful sting operation if we can get all pieces to come together. Just last night, there was a murder attempt made on Miss Kowalski here. We have the suspect in hand and have reason to tie her in with a king-pin for NM2 and a previous murder.”
Ambassador Marquez said. “Yes, well, I’m so sorry to hear about the danger you’ve been in, Miss Kowalski, but unfortunately there is still this missing shoe. That is your mother, I presume? I will talk quietly, so gather near.”
They talked in the privacy of the tunnel, but the ambassador still used a hushed tone.
“We are preparing now to assist Senorita Sobori and a multi-agency taskforce. They will be on their way to Texas and then possibly into Mexico, where we have full cooperation with the Mexican Government and their local officials. Things are moving very fast. We understand and give our consent that arrests will be made today and that the perpetrators of the crimes we have discussed will be brought to justice in the United States and tried as part of a transnational crime ring,” the ambassador said.
“Thank you! At the same time, the FBI is resuming negotiations with NM2 even as we speak, so timing is of the utmost importance,” Big Sam said. “What would be most helpful for us and t
he safe return of Miss Shoe would be for you to also avail yourself, Mr. Ambassador, to the negotiations staff. We believe information you have might help them see the significance of cooperating on this very important exchange.”
“Absolutely! That would be my pleasure,” he said. “As information regarding the illicit activities of NM2 has come to light, I feel strongly that we need to forego some of the slower diplomatic ways to bring their activities to an end and proceed with the utmost haste.”
Big Sam left the ambassador with the hotline for negotiations. They shook hands.
In a heavy Hispanic accent, the ambassador smiled and wished Abbi well.
“As for the perpetrators of these crimes,” the ambassador said, “there is no place but prison for them. They threaten the lives of men, women and children. Our office and the Mexican Government will assist in every possible way.”
When they left the tunnel, the ambassador quickly departed.
Big Sam told Abbi and Louise that the next person they would meet was a high-ranking official of the FBI.
A drive of just a few minutes brought them to the FBI building on Pennsylvania Avenue, standing cubicle, designed of huge granite blocks. Big Sam said this building served as the hub for information and intelligence for the fight against terrorism in the United States of America.
“Security will be tighter here, very much tighter,” Big Sam said. Again, he left the rappelling bag with Scott. “Watch this for us, please. We should be back within a half hour. If not, I will call.”
Just inside the building, Abbi, Louise, and Big Sam were carefully scrutinized, scanned, and ID’d. The security guard took their phones, examined them, put the phones in a box and warned that there was to be no photography, video or sound recording.
Big Sam informed a young woman at the information desk that they had arrived early for a special meeting and asked her to notify the proper authority of their arrival.
An aide took Abbi, Louise, and Big Sam into a small but comfortable room where coffee, tea, and doughnuts were offered. Here they would wait until called.
Today looked like a day for more answers but she wondered at what might lay ahead. With her second doughnut of the day in hand, Abbi sat comfortably in a tall plush leather chair and looked around.
Louise sat beside her and whispered, “Another fine mess you’ve gotten us into.”
Abbi laughed and said, “Yeah! I’m getting real good at that.”
They finished their doughnuts and coffee, and then did their secret fist bump.
Meanwhile, Big Sam had gone to another room.
Suddenly, a vision came to her of a zipline and sliding through thick trees. The mission felt dangerous. She wanted an ascender and wasn’t sure she had one in her bag. Her mind’s eye showed ropes and a tricky glide through the air. And it would happen today!
The vision broke but, quickly after it dissolved, another one formed, one in which her mother sat bound with ropes on a floor with her back resting on the bare wall of an unfurnished room. Before Abbi could glean further details from the image, that vision also dissolved.
Abbi stared into her coffee hoping for more pieces to the puzzle, as if she could read the future from coffee grounds in the bottom of the cup she cradled in her hands.
“Mom is lonely and scared,” Abbi said.
“You’ll get her back,” Louise said. “I feel good about this.”
“You do? You actually feel something?”
“Yes. It’s going to happen. And you’ll do fine!” Louise said. “I like this. Maybe you’re rubbing off on me!”
Before they had finished their coffee, an aide came for Abbi, escorting her up an
elevator to a large and lavishly furnished office with a huge cherry desk that faced the door. Several leather chairs had been placed in a semi-circle. The aide directed Abbi to the chair in the middle, directly in front of the woman sitting at the desk. Again, déjà vu.
Abbi immediately recognized the large-framed woman, who sat turned with her back to them.
“The young lady is here,” the aide said.
The woman, dressed in business clothes, spun her chair around to see.
In spite of herself, Abbi gasped, “It’s YOU? HERE?”
FIFTY-SEVEN
Miss Sobori knocked on the door.
“Tina, are you OK for company? Mrs. Hightower sent me,” Miss Sobori said.
“Come in!” Tina said.
“Good morning! Well, we do look a lot alike. That’s exciting. I’ll get to play YOU! I’m Special Agent Sobori.” She showed her badge. “How are you feeling today?”
“A lot LOT better!” Tina said. “They won’t let me leave yet though.”
“You’d better just stay and let them take care of you. What are you, about 5 foot 1 or 2?”
“I think I’m 5 foot 1.”
“OK. I’m just a little taller. Same skin tone, basically. I’ll see if I can find a longer wig. Alright, we’ve got the basic body shape covered,” she said.
“And you’re not very old!” Tina observed.
“Nope, not very. I brought some magazines. You can pick out some styles that show how you like to dress. Basically, you’ll be my stylist and train me to be you. But first, let’s just talk and get on the Internet with our target.”
“Target?”
“Not the store. I like your accent. How’s this?” she asked in Tina’s inflection, trying to match the voice as nearly as she could.
“I think that might do it!” Tina said.
Miss Sobori brought the laptop over to the bed.
“Have you been on this today?”
“No, Mrs. Hightower thought I should wait for you.”
“Perfect! Let’s respond to Gopher’s last statement where he pleaded his concern for you and his innocence. How do you think we should we respond to that?”
“I think I should say ‘that’s bullshit’.”
“Sure, but we catch more flies with honey than vinegar. How about ‘I knew they were wrong about you.’ Or however you say it. Just that. See if he takes the bait. OK?”
“Maybe something like what they said bout you was wrong. You’re my guy.”
Miss Sobori agreed. “Let’s go with it. You type it in.”
“OK. That’s not fuckin’ true though. Just so you know! Oh, sorry about that. I’m just so angry! I hate him!”
Tina gathered up her courage, took the laptop and replied to Gopher’s plea.
“You just told me important things about yourself,” Miss Sobori said. “You don’t mind cussing once in a while. And your spelling of wrong is r-o-n-g.”
“That spelling is just easier, faster. And the F word. I didn’t used to use words like that at all. Kinda goes with livin’ the life. You have to fit in. You just do what you have to to survive.”
“OK. I can so fuckin’ do that!” Miss Sobori said the way Maria would, complete with lisping the s sound. “We’ll make that bastard pay, we will!”
Tina laughed but then looked worried.
“Will you be OK?” Tina asked. “You shouldn’t be alone. Don’t get kidnapped.”
“I’ll be golden. For one thing, I won’t be travelling alone. I’ll have some very talented bodyguards watching every move. We’ve already started setting the stage.”
“Ooh.”
“Our people will keep the upper hand on that. While we’re waiting to see if Gopher answers, style me. If you were going to the mall, what would you wear? How would you do your hair and make up? Show me in pictures.” Miss Sobori pulled a marker and some magazines out of her bag.
“This is the most fun I’ve had for awhile!” Tina said and flipped through the pages.
“So glad you’re enjoying it! I think it’ll be fun for me too.”
Miss Sobori watched carefully to see Tina’s basic style.
“Wait!” she said. “You’ve dyed your hair, haven’t you?”
“Oh, that’s right! I forgot,” Tina said. “And this is a different cut.�
�
“The cut won’t matter so much, maybe. But, yeah, the color. Was your haircolor close to mine?”
“Very close. Like, exactly!” Tina said.
“We have a reply!” Miss Sobori said. They both looked at the screen.
Gopher responded by saying he had bought a ring for her. Then he was afraid she left him for another guy because she wouldn’t talk to him or see him.
“What a liar!” Tina said.
“Can we say that?” Miss Sobori asked.
“It ain’t freakin’ honey,” Tina said with a laugh, “so no.”
“OK. From this point on, I’m taking over your Maria account. You are never, ever to use it again. No contacting old friends. If that got around, someone would find you. The people you were dealing with are very dangerous. They would hurt you if they found you. They would hurt your friends. This is extremely important. Do you understand?”
“Yes. And thank you,” Tina said. “Please don’t get hurt. Just find the little low-life. Do you know what he looks like?”
“I believe you posted a picture of him on your page. Right? Show me.”
Tina went to her picture file. She had several pictures.
“Perfect! And pictures of you at the mall with him. That’s even better! Any of these outfits would work for me. So we are in agreement that I have access to all this?”
“Sure!”
At that moment, Tina’s father walked in.
“Hello, Officer Benson. I spoke on the phone with you. I’m Special Agent Sobori. Thanks for coming!”
“Thank you!” he said.
“We’ve pretty much wrapped this up. Your daughter’s been styling me, and I’m ready to go pull this off. I can almost talk like her.” She gave it her best effort.
Officer Benson laughed.
“By the time I’m dressed, I’ll be a twin to your daughter.”
“Cover your back! I’ve learned a lot about those people. It’s not a group you want to associate with.”
“We’re lucky. This boy has already swallowed the bait. Then he turned around with bait of his own, so I’m hoping to fly out today and meet up with him. At a distance of course and with lots of cover.”
