“And as far as I know there is only one guy trying to shoot the President of Mexico now, and that’s you. If you recruit Ramirez, that’s two. Hardly a damn gaggle of guys like you make it sound. One of those schemes, by the way, is being run by your very own boss, Major Crenshaw. I guess you’re smarter than all the other people in the Agency so you see that you’re right and they’re wrong. I’m sorry to hear that, Jack. This is not the Jack Armstrong, Almost Captain United States Marine Corps, who I knew and trusted in Vietnam when the whole world depended on us to stop the carnage.”
“Are you finished?” I asked, calmly.
“I assume you have something to say.”
“Yes, I do. You have successfully managed to meet with me and sit on a bench in Chapultepec Park for half an hour or so and not tell me a damn thing while making me feel guilty that I would question your sanity or the competence of the Central Intelligence Agency. Was that the purpose for this meeting?”
“That and to tell you to watch your ass. There’s a guy trying to find you and kill you before you kill the President of Mexico. But I guess you already knew that.”
Gearheardt looked up and smiled. When I looked, I saw Marta approaching. Although a block away still, there was no doubt it was my nudist roommate.
Gearheardt grabbed the sleeve of my jacket. “Jack, you worry too much. We’re just talking assassination here, not some all-out war. Did you think that these decisions go all the way to the top? That the president calls the cabinet together to vote?”
Okay, gents, who all’s for shooting President Rios? Keep your hands up so I can count. Bob, is your hand up or are you scratching that psoriasis? That’s one, two, three, okay seven all together. HUD and Interior, you’re saying no, right? No, Dave, Defense does not get two votes. But we have enough yeses to kill him. Tell the CIA, would you, Mary? And none of that poison in the beard crap this time. No poison darts, no midgets in the bathtub, no electric blanket accidents, you tell ‘em. The United States of America shoots people. I won’t be the laughing stock of the U.N. next time.
“Hang with me for a while, buddy. I’ll take care of the guy that might be after you.” He slugged my arm. “In a day or two you’ll see everything. You and I will be working side by side. With Marta of course.” He put his arm around my shoulder. “Jack,” he said quietly, watching Marta approach, “try to be a bit nicer to Marta. Women have feelings too.”
“Ola, Jack,” Marta said. She smiled at me and I realized what I had been looking forward to all day.
“Ola, Marta,” I replied. “Como esta.”
“Muy bien, Jack,” Marta said.
“High school Spanish, Jack. Doesn’t impress me.” He dropped his arm from my shoulder and pecked Marta’s cheek. “I’ve got to run. Tell Jack about Palanque, Marta. He was jabbering on about someone trying to kill him and I never got the chance to bring it up.” As he left he grinned at me. “Where’s that damn cigarette kid?”
Which was another thing I wanted to ask him about, but Marta took my arm and pulled. “Vamanos, Jack. I have to get out of these clothes,” she whined.
My rush back to my apartment was because I was anxious to hear about Palanque.
CHAPTER NINE
FOR THE LOVE OF MARTA
Back at my apartment, I fixed drinks while Marta got undressed. “You’re sure you don’t want my robe, Marta?” I asked over my shoulder.
“Ees okay, Jack. Your apartment is a bit cold, but I have turned down the cooler. My skin will be the goose bumps, but it will warm soon.”
Thinking that goose bump skin would be unattractive, I walked to the couch to hand her the scotch. Oh wow! The cold had caused her … I looked away, spilling the scotch on her thigh as I handed it to her.
“So Marta,” I began when I dropped to my leather easy chair and tried to relax, “tell me about Palanque.”
Palanque was a Mayan ruin, one of the best, in the Yucatan peninsula of Mexico. It was there that Mexican archaeologists discovered the tomb of the Corn God, the first known use of a pyramid for the burial of a ruler (if he were one) on the North American continent. The well-preserved buildings near the pyramid were in a style reminiscent of Chinese architecture. Hidden well into the jungle and so far, undiscovered by the majority of tourists, it was my favorite Mayan site.
“You know the site, Jack. It is beautiful. And very peaceful.”
“I know, but how does it fit into Gearheardt’s plan?” I leaned forward and placed my empty glass on the coffee table between us. “Marta, how much do you know about Gearheardt’s plan? You and I can trust one another. I need to know more.”
“Gearheardt said that you would try to find out from me.”
“Find out what? What did he not want you to tell me?”
“I am disappointed that you think me so dumb, Jack. Is because I am naked?”
“No, it’s not because you are naked. Although I will say that it’s a bit disconcerting. I’m not used to talking to naked women.”
She smiled.
“Gearheardt does not like his friends to trust one another, Jack. He would prefer that they remain …. suspicious of one another. Comprende?”
“That, I’m afraid, is a rule of the trade. If your friends start to confide in one another, then you have to tell the same story to all of them.”
“You mean you can’t lie to your friends.”
“You can trust me, Marta. I am Gearheardt’s best friend. If you trust him, you can trust me.”
“Tell me what he has asked you to do, Jack.”
I might have. I was starting to feel a little desperate about my situation. I knew I needed to do something bold. Take some initiative rather than passively be manipulated by Crenshaw and Gearheardt. But before I could open my mouth, someone knocked loudly at my door.
I nodded toward the bedroom and Marta took the hint.
It was Eduardo, the Halcone who lived in my building. He pushed past me into the apartment at the same time I was asking him to come in. Although he had been inside many times, he looked around now like he was searching.
“You have a girl friend here, no?” he asked.
I smiled and shrugged my shoulders.
Eduardo smiled back and tilted his head toward my closed bedroom door.
I smiled again.
We stood there smiling.
Eduardo broke first. “Okay, Jack, here is why I have come to see you.” He plopped down on the couch, picked up the scotch glass that Marta had left on the coffee table, then sat it down and looked back at me. “You may have some information that I, we, would like to know. My friends wanted to ask you to visit our headquarters. But that can be very, como se dice, intima, intermina, very frightening to some people. Not to you, of course, but still I tell them that we can meet with Jack here. Very friendly. Just talk. Okay?”
“I don’t think that an economics officer at the U.S. Embassy would just trot on down to the Mexican Secret Police even if you asked him, Eduardo. That would have to go through the ambassador.”
“Maybe we would ask him not so nice.” Eduardo, usually jovial and joking with me, was nervous, and slightly threatening, or trying to be.
“Let’s say that I were down to see you, what could you possibly want to ask me? Again, you know very well that anything serious would have to come through the proper channels.” I wanted to keep the upper hand. He was in my apartment.
“We would like very much to know where your friend Mr. Gearheardt can be found. That we would like to know very very much.” He wasn’t smiling now.
“Mr. Gearheardt is not an easy man to find. I have seen him a couple of times in the last week. But I don’t know where he is now.” I assumed that the Halcones knew that I had met with Gearheardt and lying would not help. I also had no clue as to Gearheardt’s whereabouts. “Can you tell me why you would like to see him, Eduardo? If I see him, I will tell him to contact you.”
“Jack, you are aware of what I do, and, although you are not telling me, I know what
you do also. Let us not fool each other.”
Eduardo was a short, rather dumpy character. His black suit was rumpled and his white shirt wrinkled. His face was soft but studded with shifty eyes. It was difficult for me to think of him as a family man, but I had seen him in the building with a woman and two small children.
“I try to assist the trading missions between our countries, Eduardo.” I was programmed to stick to my cover, even if I was caught in a CIA tee-shirt kneeling before a portrait of Wild Bill Donovan. “As a friend, of course I will try to help you find Mr. Gearheardt. But I am not sure when or if I will be seeing him again.”
This seemed to satisfy Eduardo and he relaxed just a bit, loosening his black tie, and settling back on the couch. “You sometimes make the blue movies here, Jack?”
That damn Gearheardt. “That was a misunderstanding. I am sorry that the story is known in the building. This is a very nice apartment building and I would not want anyone to get the wrong idea. Just a misunderstanding.”
“Perhaps I could view the misunderstanding some time. It is for my curiosity. I have never seen the blue movie.”
I rose from my chair, hoping he would take the hint. “It was a joke that got out of hand, Eduardo. Why don’t we visit the cantina for a beer this weekend, and I will tell you about it.” I moved closer to the door.
Eduardo sighed and lifted himself to his feet. “Your friend is here to cause trouble. He should leave the country. The men he is meeting, the Cubans, are not people he should deal with. They caused the trouble in 1968. We are not happy with them. Your friend should choose his companions more carefully.” He moved around the couch and stood close to me. “Victor Ramirez is not someone you should want to be with, Jack. He is listed. That’s all I can tell you, but remember that.” He held out his hand and I took it. His grip was not dumpy.
I sat back down on my leather chair and thought about what I had heard. When used by the Halcones, ‘listed’ could mean anything from being watched, to being targeted for elimination. Given the seriousness of the situation, I assumed he meant the latter and was warning me to not spend a lot of time in the company of Victor Ramirez.
My bedroom door was closed. I knocked softly but heard nothing inside. When I went into the darkened room I saw Marta asleep on my bed, the sheet pulled up to her bare shoulders.
It had been a long day of talking about shooting people and getting shot, so I took a very cold shower and went to sleep on the couch.
My head was clear in the morning and as I sat in my kitchen with a cup of coffee I could calmly reflect on my situation and make logical plans. I knew there were no direct flights to Pago Pago from Mexico City. So facing the music would have to be Plan A.
Gearheardt wanted me to make contact with Ramirez. Crenshaw wanted me to make contact with Ramirez. The Mexican Secret Police, the orneriest rascals in the world, warned me to stay away from Ramirez. So far so good. I got another cup of coffee.
Marta strolled into the kitchen at seven thirty. “I take your bed last night, Jack. Muchas gracias.” She found a cup in the cupboard and brought her coffee to the table. Sitting across from me, she blew softly across the top of the cup and smiled at me at the same time. “You look worried, Jack. How can I help you?”
“Marta, I have made a decision. You must level with me.”
“Level?”
“Yes, be honest. You must trust me and tell me everything you know. Can you do that?”
Her cup had left a small ring of coffee on the table and she played in it with her finger. Then she said, “Yes, that would be possible. And you must trust me also.”
I reached across the table to shake her hand to seal the deal and get down to business. When she reached across the table, her right breast followed and rested next to her coffee cup. It was an incredible moment.
I rose, clad in my pajama bottoms, and quickly left the room. I returned with the top to my pajamas and held it out to Marta. “When we talk business, Marta, I would like for you to wear this. Is that okay with you?”
She put it on and looked at me. “Now we are the team. I am the top, and you are the bottom. Unless you want to be on the top?”
I have learned, living in SE Asia and other parts of the world, that broken or incorrect English is not a good indication of intelligence. I saw many people make that mistake. I had also observed that the easiest cover for a highly intelligent woman is the dumb sex queen. I suspected that Marta was highly intelligent. I wasn’t quite so sure about the sex queen part. Parading around nude in a stranger’s home wasn’t on the list of things I had experienced. Unless you included The White Rose bar in Vientiane. Kind of a second home when Gearheardt and I were flying in Laos for Air America. But in that case we paid the girls to parade around nude to aid digestion when we were drinking.
So I let the ‘on top’ reference go by. I also knew that the easiest way for a woman to keep a man unbalanced is through the use of double entendre remarks. I wasn’t going to fall for it.
“You can be the leader, Marta. It makes no difference to me.” I began clearing the table so that I wouldn’t have to look at her while I was talking to her. “Let’s begin by agreeing that you and I are committed to helping Gearheardt complete his mission. Right?”
“That is right. Gearheardt is a great man and a great strat …”
“A great strategist? Well, I’m not so sure about that. But my point is that I would need to know what the ultimate mission is before I can be completely committed to it. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Marta rose and began helping me clean up. The pajama top was tantalizingly attractive. “You go to get dressed, Jack. It makes me upset to have you in pajama only.”
After I was dressed, I called Juanita. “I won’t be in this morning, Juanita. Perhaps I can check back with you later today.”
“Señor Rodrigo he called. He needs to meet with you very bad. He also would like to know if you have check.”
“Damn, I forgot to call him yesterday. Juanita, get in touch with him and tell him to meet me at eleven in front of the University where we met before. He’ll know the spot. Then find the paperwork on my desk and walk it down to accounting. Don’t leave until they give you a check made out to Rodrigo. Can you do that? Then send the check with Jorge to my apartment. Okay?” I could see her nodding her head, a common response of hers on the phone and one that she didn’t seem to realize was extremely frustrating for me. “You do have that, Juanita? Now, is Major Crenshaw in?”
“He is not in the office today. The personnel people have given him temporary woman and she is looking for him. He is disappear since yesterday.”
That worried me a bit. But at least he wouldn’t be coming down to my empty office and asking how my contact with the Lizard was progressing. “Okay, Juanita, and listen, if you have any trouble at all, go see Eric. Tell him that this is part of what he is doing for Major Crenshaw.”
“Señor Eric.”
“Yes. And thanks, Juanita.”
“Señor Jack, the ambassador was here to see you this morning.”
“What?” This would be the first time that had happened. It couldn’t mean anything good. “What did he say?”
“I was scared for you not being here. I told him you were always on time. Maybe you have terrible accident. That is why you are not here.”
“Thanks, Juanita. What did he say?”
“He says that you are lucky if you are dead before he finds you.”
That didn’t sound encouraging.
“You don’t look so happy, Jack.”
“Things are kind of in a mess at the office, Marta. But I can straighten that out later. Or be spying in Antarctica before the snow falls.” My apartment, on the fifth floor of a six-story building overlooking the central market in Palanco, had a small balcony off the living room. Just enough space for two chairs and a small table. Marta and I sat there now.
“The Agency is alerted to the possibility that someone will try to assassinate the President o
f Mexico on Cinco de Mayo, Marta. I tell you that because I want you to trust me and know that I trust you. In addition, the Agency is also aware that the assassin and the man who hired him might be CIA operatives or agents. You do know that Gearheardt asked me to be the ‘assassin,’ don’t you?”
“I know that I am to get you to Havana after the event, Jack. I am not sure that you are supposed to kill the Presidente.”
“Can you tell me why Gearheardt would not have a Cuban do what he is asking me to do?”
“He does not trust them. He must have someone that he has no doubt about. None at all. Gearheardt says that operations are very fluid—I think fluid was the word—and that only someone you can trust can operate in that enviro …” she trailed off.
“Environment. I suppose I can see his point. But now he is willing to go along with Crenshaw and have me contact Victor Ramirez to ask him to be, or find someone to be, the assassin. I don’t understand that.”
“Jack, the Cubans don’t trust the Americans. That you know. They do not believe that the American CIA would back them to try to take over the government of Mexico. So to have you, a CIA man approach them is a very good sign for Gearheardt. The world must blame the Cubans, but the CIA must have control. You see? And when Gearheardt takes over Cuba, then all will be clear.”
“Mexico.”
“Que?”
“Mexico. You said when Gearheardt takes over Cuba.”
“Si.”
I took a deep breath. In the street below them, a traveling gypsy had led a bear on a chain onto the grassy area near the fountain. The bear looked mangy and miserable. Later the gypsy would make the bear dance.
“So Gearheardt isn’t planning on taking over Mexico?”
Marta laughed and then stopped when she looked at my face. “What would Gearheardt want with Mexico, Jack? There are so many problems and … oh, so that is what he told you. I understand.”
“I’m not sure I do. But why wouldn’t he just tell me. It makes a lot more sense than trying to take over Mexico. Surely he would know that I could see that.”
Goodbye Mexico Page 9
