“I was very proud of the way you handled your parents earlier today.” Vin patted her arm.
“I don’t know what made me do it. I just felt like I was supposed to tell them that. But I still have a lot of questions myself. You and I are going to have to have our own heart-to-heart here pretty soon.”
“I can’t wait!” Vin showed a big smile. “How’s breakfast? Tomorrow.”
“Sounds good. So, where are we going?”
Vin raised his eyebrows and looked at Anna intently. “Ever hear of the Cathedral de St. Anna?”
“St. Anna? You’re kidding me. Right?” She preened. “Well, I have always been rather saintly.”
“Yes,” he said dryly, “a paragon of virtue.” He held out a piece of paper with the address written on it.
“That’s just a number and a street name,” Anna said, examining the paper. “How do you know it’s here in Venezuela?”
“Because I know Thomas came here after we got separated.”
“So what do we do when we get there?”
“That’s the big mystery, isn’t it? I have no idea. Your grandfather only left me the address. I guess it’s up to us to figure it out.”
The cab twisted and turned along the roads and through the Plaza Bolivar, a historical and touristy area of town. When they reached the hotel, the driver got out and helped them with their bags. Father Vin pulled out a twenty and gave it to the man. “Keep the change,” he said. They walked inside and checked in.
At the top floor, Father Vin turned the key to their room and stepped inside, holding the door for Anna behind him.
“Wow!” Anna looked around the room. It was furnished like a New York penthouse. Two steps led down from the foyer into a living room area. Off to the left there were two bedrooms and a computer station. Toward the back of the room there was a small kitchenette. A fully stocked pantry was off to the side. There was a note on the coffee table. She picked it up and read:
Welcome to La Casa de la Belleza, Ms. Anderson. If we can be of any service to you during your stay, please let us know. Your personal hotel staff will be available to you in the morning. Just call the front desk, and we’ll send them up.
Anna placed the note back on the coffee table and smiled. “Hey, Vin, did you know that we are in some chick named Anderson’s room, and she has her own butler service?”
“Just one of the perks, Anna.” Father Vin came out of the bedroom where he had been putting away his luggage. “You’re Ms. Anderson. You’ll find that a lot of times when you stay somewhere, you will have a different name. It’s one of the ways you can keep a low profile on the outside. Keeps you from having to watch over your shoulder so much. You will have to get used to it. And always remember the name you’re using. You don’t want to arouse suspicion if someone calls out that particular name and you don’t answer.”
“Sounds like James Bond stuff to me.” Anna shrugged her shoulders and walked to the pantry. “I’m fixing something to eat. You want some?”
“Speaking of James Bond—here.” He took off his shoulder bag and set it on the counter. Reaching inside, he pulled out four passports and handed them to her. “Now, give me your wallet.”
Anna was stunned. All four passports had a current picture of her, originated from four different countries, and had stamps from a bunch of countries she had never been to. And each one bore a different name.
“Your wallet please, Anna.” Vin stood there with his hand held out.
“How did you get these?” Anna marveled at the fake documents.
“You’d be surprised what you can do with a digital camera, a laptop, and as much money as you have. Your grandfather has had at least four identities for you ready to go since you were eighteen. Your wallet, Anna. Please.”
She held up the third passport, an Australian one. Inside the name read Maggie Anderson. “So I guess this is me … Ms. Maggie Anderson.”
Father Vin reached across the counter and grabbed Anna’s purse. He took out her wallet and began emptying its contents on the counter.
“Hey!” Anna objected. “What are you doing?”
Continuing to empty the leather pouch of its credit cards and identifications, Vin replied, “Anna, remember what I said? You are a ghost now. There can be no trace of your former life. You are no longer Anna Riley as far as the world is concerned. From now on you are one of these four people.” He held up the passports. “And when these four have been used up, there will be four more waiting.”
He grabbed the small pile of plastic and paper now scattered on the counter and carried it over to the trash can in the kitchen area. Placing the contents inside, he carried the small metal basket out onto the private balcony. He struck a match he had retrieved from one of his pockets and set the pile on fire, erasing Anna’s identity.
Anna stood there staring at the small fire. This was just one more reminder of how crazy all of this was. She knew she should feel cheated or violated in some way, seeing her identity literally go up in smoke. But for some odd reason she didn’t. The truth was, she was okay with it. If anything, it was kind of exciting. And scary. But mostly exciting.
“Okay. Well, I guess that’s that,” she said. She picked up the new passports again and thumbed through them once more.
Father Vin sat down on the couch. “I need to make a phone call. When I’m done, I think I will retire for the evening. We have a busy day tomorrow.” He reached into his shoulder pack, retrieved the satellite phone he had used on the plane, and started to punch in the numbers. “Ah yes, Martin. I need to speak to him. It’s important.” There was a pause then, “Hello, Your Holiness …. Yes, everything is fine …. I am safe …. Caracas, Venezuela …. I’m afraid Thomas has gone to be with our Lord …. Yes, I am with her now …. What’s that? … Oh yes, of course! Hang on one second.” Father Vin cupped the mouthpiece of the phone and turned his head toward her. “Anna, you have a phone call.”
She reached for the phone and noticed that Father Vin was smiling from ear to ear.
Anna grabbed the receiver, still cupping the mouthpiece. “Who is it, Vin?”
“Someone very important.” Father Vin seemed almost giddy.
Anna put the phone up to her ear. She could hear rustling around on the other end. She looked at Father Vin as he was giving her a “Go ahead and say something” look. “This is Anna Riley. Who is this?”
The voice that echoed through the earpiece was soft and gentle. At the same time, it was also authoritative and tough as nails. “Anna, this is Pope Paul VII. I have been eagerly waiting to talk to you.”
Anna’s eyes went wide as she dropped the phone. Father Vin was horror-stricken at her reaction. Quickly, he leaped at the phone lying on the floor and picked it up. “Hello? Hello?” The line had gone dead. “Anna, you just hung up on the pope! What were you thinking?”
“Me?” Anna replied in shock. “What were you thinking! How about a heads-up next time? I mean you could’ve at least told me who it was, Vin! How am I supposed to know it’s the pope? I mean it’s not like we’re buddies or something. I don’t just go around talking on my phone, ‘Oh hey, Pope! How’s the weather over there? What’s been going on? Seen any miracles lately?’“
Father Vin picked up the phone and began to fumble with the numbers when it started ringing. “Hello …. Oh yes, Holy Father. I’m sorry about that. There must have been a bad connection. Hold on. She’s right here.” Father Vin cupped the mouthpiece once again and handed the phone back to Anna. “Anna, it’s the pope,” he said sarcastically. “How’s that for a ‘head’s-up’?”
Anna took the phone and smiled at Father Vin. “That’s a little better.” She winked at Vin, took a deep breath, and put the phone to her ear. “Hello, ah … sir.”
“Your Holiness!” Father Vin hissed.
“Sorry … Your—Your Holiness.”
“Hello, Anna,” came the reply. “I’ve long been looking forward to this moment. Your grandfather spoke of you very highly.” “He d
id? He didn’t even know me.”
“You were not able to know him, and it grieved him every day of his life. But he knew you, and he loved you.”
Anna blinked back sudden tears. “Thank you.”
“My child, it’s a heavy burden you’ve taken. I wanted you to know that I, too, mourn the loss of your grandfather, and I pray for his soul to be in safe-keeping with God. Thank you for taking his place on this vitally important journey.”
The pope was thanking her? Suddenly, her reluctance and fears seem small, petty. Larger, more important things were at stake. “You’re welcome.”
“We will meet soon, and we will talk more.”
“I would like that … Your Holiness.” And she realized she actually meant it. There was something gentle and wise about this man. Like a grandfather. Her throat tightened, and she swallowed hard. “Do you need to talk to Father Vin again?”
“No, that will be all. Just tell him to check in again in the next couple of days. May God bless you, dear child.”
She handed the phone back to Vin and walked into the kitchen to fix a snack.
“So, what did he say?” Father Vin stood and followed her into the kitchen. “You two didn’t talk very long.”
If she tried to explain how she really felt, she’d end up crying. She blinked back tears and put on a teasing smile. “Ah, you know.” Anna shrugged her shoulders. “He just wanted to see how the weather was over here, that sort of thing!”
“Anna.” Father Vin stood there with his arms crossed.
“I’m just kidding, Vin! He said that he looked forward to meeting me and he was glad that I am doing this.” Anna took a bite of her toast. “You know, this could be kinda cool. I mean, hanging out with the pope!”
Father Vin didn’t look fooled by her superficial joking. He walked over and kissed Anna’s forehead. “Good night, Anna. I’ll be in the next room if you need anything. Don’t stay up too late. We are getting up at six o’clock.”
“Six o’clock! What’s the hurry? We just got here.”
“Six o’clock, Anna,” Father Vin said matter-of-factly. He held up a street map of the city. “It says here that our address is indeed St. Anna’s. They have a Mass starting at seven thirty. We need to be there and talk to the parish priest before then. Maybe he can help us. We can stay for Mass if you like.”
“Jeez!” Anna put down her fork. “I guess we’d better get some sleep then, huh? And I was all excited about having our ‘personal hotel staff’ come up here and spoil us!” “Don’t worry, Ms. Anderson, there will be plenty more opportunities.” Father Vin laughed and patted her on the shoulder. He turned around and headed into his room.
Caracas Airport, Venezuela
Roberto stood at the head of the taxi cab line directing traffic and whistling for the next car in line to pull forward. He had a good eye for big tippers, so it was no coincidence that the man in the black leather jacket thumbing through a wad of American cash while exiting the terminal caught his attention. Without missing a beat, the young Latino chirped his whistle and waved to the man. “Over here, sir!”
The man in the leather jacket quickly moved to the front of the line without acknowledging the displeased glares of the other patrons, some of whom had been waiting in line for more than ten minutes.
“You look like a man who is ready to get somewhere. Do you need taxi?” Roberto hated that his English was a little broken, even after several years of practice.
“Um, yes,” the man said, flashing his wad of bills. “But I was wondering …. I have a niece who got here a little while ago. We are all here for a family vacation. Unfortunately, I have lost all my contact information. I’m afraid I don’t know how to get in touch with her. Her hotel and the rest of the information was written down. I’ve gone and lost the paper.” He shrugged and shook his head, looking foolish. “Hey! Wait a minute! I have a picture of her. Do you think if I showed it to you, you would recognize her?”
“Yes. Perhaps.” There was something not quite right about this
gringo, but with so much money, who was Roberto to judge? “If she pretty American girl, I remember her.”
“My name’s Jack, by the way.” The man stuck out his hand.
“I am Roberto.”
“Well, Roberto, nice to meet you. Here’s the picture.” He reached into his coat pocket and took out a snap shot of a very pretty Americana.
Roberto didn’t believe for a second that the girl was related at all to the man, but he’d learned to keep his mouth shut and his eyes closed about such things.
He thought he recognized the woman. “How long ago she come here?”
The man called Jack shrugged his shoulders. “Ah, I don’t know. Maybe an hour or two? She was on the earlier flight. That’s all I know.”
“Wait here.” Roberto turned and walked to the end of the taxi line and peeked into the window of the first car. He showed the driver the picture. The driver shook his head no, and Roberto moved on down the line. He worked his way to the end of the line, stopping at the next to last cab. The driver nodded. “I remember her. She was with a priest.”
Before he could motion to Jack, the man had flung open the taxi door and climbed into the backseat.
“Mr. Jack.” Roberto exchanged a glance with the cab driver. “I find your niece.” He and the driver both rolled their eyes. Americans were so impatient.
“Yeah, I saw him nodding when you asked.” He reached up over the backseat and handed Roberto a crisp one-hundred-dollar bill. “I know I’m jumping in line, but since he”—he pointed to the driver—”drove my niece, I’m just gonna let him drive me, too.” He pulled out another crisp one-hundred-dollar bill and waved it at Roberto. “That all right with you?”
Oh, more than all right. Roberto could overlook anything for that much money. “Sure, Mr. Jack. Whatever you want.”
“Let’s go.” The man took off his hat and threw the cabbie another hundred-dollar bill. “Don’t know why your friend there keeps calling me Jack. I told him three times my name was Bill!” The man called Jack, or Bill, leaned over the backseat and pulled the stack of bills from his pocket once more.
Pulling out three crisp one–hundred-dollar bills, he leaned into the front seat. “So where did you take them?”
“Downtown,” the cabbie quickly answered, eyeing the cash. “You want to go there?”
“Yes I do.”
Roberto walked away, shaking his head and fingering his cash. He hoped the girl would be fine—there was something suspicious about the man. But as he slid the bills into his pocket, his mind filled with how to spend the windfall. The Americana would just have to look after herself.
The driver took “Bill” to the same location he had brought his previous passengers. He pulled around to the side of the hotel as Bill instructed him to do and put the car in Park.
Bill got out of the cab’s backseat and opened the driver’s door. “Get out.”
“Please! I am just cab driver. I know nothing. I don’t want know anything,” the driver said with a nervous twitch in his voice.
Bill swallowed his rage. Third world cab drivers were all as dumb as dirt. “Calm down, chief. I’m not stealing your cab. I just want to show you something.”
The cabbie reluctantly opened his door and stepped out.
Bill stood against the cab, hiding his face from the street and passersby behind them. He pulled out another stack of bills and began to peel them off. “This is two thousand American dollars.” Predictably, the cabbie’s eyes lit at the sight of the cash. “Tomorrow, I have a friend who’s coming into town. It’s very important that he find me. Do you understand?” The cabbie’s head bobbed up and down. “Good. He will arrive at gate 6. He will be looking for a cab driver wearing this hat.” He pulled a brown baseball hat out of his bag. “Tomorrow, put the hat on and wait for him. Only him. No other fares. You understand?” Again the cabbie nodded. “Good. Gate 6. Pick him up and bring him here, and there’s another two grand waiting f
or you.” He closed the gap between them and poked his finger into the cabbie’s chest. “And if you want to keep that money or get the rest, you’d better keep your mouth shut! You got that?”
The cabbie stretched out his hand and took the cash. “Your friend … I will pick him up. I say nothing to nobody. I drop him off right here!”
“Good.” Bill turned to walk away. “Make sure you wear the hat.”
CHAPTER 10
Caracas Airport, Venezuela
Jonathan stepped off the jetway and into the airport, feeling the assault of the ridiculous humidity that plagued this part of the world. He hated foreign countries, especially third world foreign countries.
He made his way out to the taxi stand and looked for the driver wearing the familiar baseball hat. He had a stiff neck from trying to sleep on the plane, he was tired, and he hadn’t had his breakfast yet. Only one of those things was, in itself, usually enough to get anyone who looked at him crossways a one-way ticket to the afterlife. Today, however, he was on a tight schedule. He didn’t have time for pettiness.
For that reason, he ignored the fat Latino man who continued to give him a piece of his mind as he cut his way through the line. The fat man had more bags than he could carry and was trying to get into the cab that Jonathan knew was reserved for him.
“I’m sorry, sir.” Jonathan spoke pleasantly to the man. “I’m afraid I’ve called ahead to reserve this particular taxi. See there?”
Then to the driver, “Nice hat. A friend of mine has one just like it. Name’s Jonathan.” He grabbed his hand and shook it, passing the driver a few crisp bills.
The driver immediately began loading his things into the trunk, his hands sweating profusely. This must be the man the American agent told him about. He turned to the other man and said, “Sorry, sir, this cab already paid for.”
“I don’t care if you’ve bought the whole coché!” The fat man continued. “I was here first! And unless you want me to call airport security, I suggest you get in line like the rest of us!” His English was very good. The man sounded educated.
The Guardian Page 5
