She was finally dropped off at the only major hotel, a ‘five-star’ monstrosity called the Guarani Hotel. The hotel did not improve her mood or opinion about the city. It was a dingy gold and white color with 13 stories of flaking plaster and patched concrete.
Jan walked in and surveyed the interior lobby. It looked as if it hadn’t been updated since it was built in 1961. The couches and chairs were well-worn, definitely in need of reupholstering. She was so exhausted from her travels at this point in the day, that fretting about the hotel décor was the least important thing on her mind. The availability of a decent room now was all Jan cared about. She walked up to the reception desk to check in with the clerk.
“Buenas tardes, señorita. Can I help you?” the clerk inquired.
“Sí, señor. I need a room.”
“For how long?”
Jan thought for a moment. “For several days, I guess. Anything available?”
“We have a beautiful room on the ninth floor for $12 a night.”
“Great. I’ll take it”
The clerk handed Jan her key and signaled to the bellhop for help with her suitcases.
Her room could only be reached by three ancient elevators, which continually malfunctioned. After entering her suite, Jan surveyed the dreary furnishings before hoisting her heavy suitcases onto the bed and unpacked them. She laid out a simple dress to wear that night for dinner, then stripped off her clothes to take a shower.
In the bathroom, she pulled back the shower curtain and was dismayed by the discolored tile and rusty plumbing. To make matters worse, a huge cockroach crawled out from the drain, which Jan quickly exterminated by turning on the hot water to wash it back down. Assured that the ugly bug had been scalded or drowned to death, she finally stepped into the stall and turned on the water full power to lather up her body and wash her hair. But the higher she turned the hot water handle, the colder the water got.
Her blissful few minutes under the shower head finally ended when the pipes clanked and banged, dousing her with ice cold water which made her shiver. Jan cursed a lot as she tried to turn the nozzle away, but it promptly fell to the floor spraying the entire bathroom.
The frigid water doused her spirits. Was this a bad omen of how things were going to play out for the rest of the trip? That thought, along with the prospect of waiting in the hotel until the city came to life, was extremely depressing. Later, Jan would learn that fifty percent of a smuggler’s time and ninety percent of their stress came from hours and hours of unavoidable waiting. She was frustrated, dejected, and wishing she were somewhere else.
Since her much needed shower time was ruined, Jan called the reception desk to complain about the lack of hot water, but no one answered. She quickly dressed, exited her room, and headed down to the lobby. By the time Jan arrived in front of the reception desk with flat and damp hair, she was totally exasperated.
“I have no hot water in the bathroom,” Jan complained to the desk clerk.
“I’m very sorry, señorita. A plumber is working now to fix the pipes.”
“And this is a Five Star hotel? How long will it take?”
The desk clerk shrugged.
“That’s just great. I guess I have time to get some reading done. Do you have any tourist guides for restaurants, historical sites, maybe some discotheques?” Jan inquired.
“Sí, señorita,” as he handed over a pamphlet.
Jan opened it to read as she headed back to the elevator, unintentionally plowing into another hotel patron. She was startled, then looked up to see a very tall, handsome, and sexy, dark-skinned Latino gentleman.
“I’m so sorry,” Jan apologized profusely.
He gave Jan an appreciative once-over. “No problema. After you,” he graciously offered, then waved her into the elevator.
Jan entered and he stepped in behind her as she pushed the button for the ninth floor. Leaning closely over her, he reached around to punch the same button. The doors didn’t close.
She tried to study him covertly for a moment. He looked mid-thirties, around six feet tall, well-dressed and very thin. There were a lot of things about him that were thin; thin face, pencil-thin mustache that accented his thin lips. He was obviously a native; dark complexioned, with Indian bone structure and a flawless complexion. More important than his physical appearance, he looked wealthy. Could he be her cocaine contact? Maybe after a bit of conversation, she could find out.
The doors remained immobile. They waited another awkward minute together for the elevator doors to close. The two of them were the only ones inside, waiting in silence. When the reception desk clerk decided they had waited long enough, he walked over and told them to push the sixth floor button first. Jan did and the doors magically closed.
Once they reached the sixth floor, they had to exit and enter another elevator to get to the ninth floor. Jan pushed number nine and they stood expectantly again, waiting for the doors to close. By this time they were so frustrated, that both instinctively moved forward to push the ninth floor button again. In doing so, the Latino gentleman accidentally brushed up against her body. Jan didn’t mind at all; in fact, it felt titillating.
The elevator finally jerked upward. At this time, Jan decided to initiate a conversation since she had so few opportunities to speak with anyone after arriving in Asunción.
“The travel brochures don’t mention that Asunción is a depressing city.”
“Yes, I agree,” the Latino gentleman replied, flashing a charming smile.
“My name is Jan.”
“I’m Moises. Pleased to meet you. Are you on vacation?”
Jan paused for a quick moment, realizing it was time to use her fabricated cover story.
“No, I’m a writer for a travel magazine. What about you? Vacation or business trip?”
“I’m a diplomat for the Bolivian government representing President Colonel Hugo Banzer Suarez. Our delegation is here to finalize and sign trade agreements to assist in the development of Paraguay.”
“This country definitely needs help,” Jan teasingly responded.
Moises couldn’t avoid looking down the top of her dress since he was standing so close over her.
“It’s not all bad,” he responded with a smirk on his face.
The elevator grudgingly stopped at the ninth floor and the two of them walked down the hallway together. Suspicion flickered through her as Moises walked to her door but it quickly passed when she realized that he had the room directly opposite hers.
“Well, our rooms are facing each other. What a coincidence,” Moises pointed out.
“Right on! Well, it was nice meeting you. Please excuse me, but I’ve got to get ready for dinner. I’m starving.”
“Would you consider joining me for dinner tonight?” Moises politely asked.
Jan didn’t want to appear too eager. She simply smiled for a moment. “Yes, of course. I’d be delighted.”
“I’ll knock on your door at 8:00 PM.”
Jan unlocked her door, entered, and turned around to face Moises.
“I’m looking forward to it,” she gratefully responded. Of course there were ulterior motives. Maybe he could help her score cocaine.
Later that evening, Moises escorted Jan to the finest restaurant in Asunción. He arranged with the hostess to seat them in a private corner table lit by candles. The ambience was enhanced by a pianist playing romantic music while they dined on an assortment of hors’d oeuvres. A bottle of champagne, ready to be uncorked, chilled in an ice bucket. This was a surreal moment for Jan. She couldn’t believe what was happening to her on her first night in Asunción and enjoyed every opulent indulgence with Moises.
“You didn’t mention what you were writing about,” he inquired.
Without any hesitation, Jan just blurted it out, “Cocaine smuggling.”
Moises arched
his eyebrow. “That’s a dangerous subject matter for such a sweet-looking girl.” He paused momentarily. “But if you ever want to get serious about it you should come to my country Bolivia.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t have enough money now for air fare to travel there,” Jan confessed.
“There are more coca plants grown in Bolivia than anywhere else in South America. It’s been cultivated in the Andes since the Incas. If I may ask, why did you decide to come to Paraguay instead of Bolivia?”
“I was told that the discotheques in Asunción were popular places for the rich folks to score cocaine.”
Moises waved off her statement. “I hate to tell you this, but you’ve seen all there is to see, especially this weekend. Everything is closed this four day holiday,” Moises reminded her.
“I guess I made a mistake coming here at this time.”
“If you agree to write about travel and tourism in Bolivia, I’ll see to it that you travel there as a guest at the expense of our government.”
“Really, you’d do that for me?” Jan questioned with incredulity.
Moises touched her hand on the table. “I’ll do more,” he promised.
“How much more?” Jan cautiously inquired.
“How much would you like?” Moises asked.
Jan decided to push her luck a bit further and went for it. “A kilo.”
That got a reaction. He studied her for a long moment, then chuckled. Jan thought she’d blown it. Finally he nodded. It was quite obvious now that Moises was smitten with her.
“Besides writing about cocaine, I’d like to bring some back with me. I’ve never tried it, but I’d like to get some for my friends,” Jan revealed.
“Your wish is my command. I’ll make all the arrangements for your trip to Bolivia but unfortunately, I won’t be able to immediately go with you. My delegation is scheduled to fly to Buenos Aires tomorrow. You can either remain in Asunción or I’ll book you a flight to Santa Cruz to tour that city for a day. Then I’ll fly in after our meeting tomorrow and meet you at the El Cortez Hotel.”
Without any hesitation Jan responded, “I would love to visit Santa Cruz.”
“Consider it done,” Moises promised as he again placed his hand on hers.
Jan blushed. “Sounds good to me,” she responded ecstatically.
Moises uncorked the bottle of champagne, filled the empty flutes and handed one to Jan.
They toasted together in unison. “Salud.”
After returning to the hotel, they walked to their rooms and stopped in front of their respective doors. Jan turned to thank Moises for inviting her to dinner, but before she could get the words out of her mouth, he gently pulled her towards him and kissed her softly on the lips. It caught her by surprise. She demurely pulled away with a smile and entered her room.
“Thank you for a wonderful evening.” She then stepped out to give him a warm embrace. “It’s been a long day for me so I’ll just say good night.”
“Likewise, I enjoyed your company. Since I’m checking out early in the morning, I’ll leave your travel itinerary and money to buy a ticket with the reception clerk.”
They passionately kissed one last time and retired to their rooms. Jan leaned against the back of the door, astonished about making a cocaine connection with the first person she had met on the trip. It was definitely a good omen. At that moment, Jan learned to trust her instincts. She now felt confident that it was going to be super easy to score the precious crystal. Dollar signs danced through her head.
The next day she flew on an old Caravelle plane with only two other passengers to Santa Cruz, Bolivia. Upon landing at the airport, she understood why there were so few travelers. The word ‘airport’ was a misnomer. More accurately, Santa Cruz had an ‘airstrip’; a long dirt runway that looked like it had been cleared with scythes and tamped down with oxen. The customs office was a single wooden shed and the only building in the area. Santa Cruz was as desolate as her memory of Asunción.
Her route through customs was a brief formality and she quickly found a taxi to take her to the El Cortez Hotel where she had arranged to meet Moises later in the evening. She checked in at the desk and asked if she had any messages waiting for her. There were none. She retired to her room, settled in, and laid down to take a quick nap.
Several hours later, Jan was a bit disturbed that she had not yet heard from Moises. Had he forgotten where she was staying? She couldn’t leave the hotel until she heard from him and was forced into a waiting game, which she hated; it was a waste of time and unproductive. Time was precious. Every moment that piddled away was one less experience in life. She was obsessed with that thought and it guided her philosophy of life. Not a great trait to have if you are going to be a drug smuggler. But that was something that she was working on, molding her mind and habits to become this other persona; her new ‘secret life’ character.
Making huge amounts of money motivates some people to do crazy, unethical, or criminal deeds, and it definitely swept Jan up into its seductive grip to change her behavior. She knew she had to be extremely disciplined to follow through with her new quest in life; score cocaine, sell it, then use the profits to travel around the world and experience other cultures and new adventures.
At long last, Moises called and apologized that he couldn’t make it that evening because their political trade deliberations were not finished. He arranged to fly her to La Paz the next afternoon and would meet her at the airport. Jan was relieved. Everything was fine now and she looked forward to seeing him.
With time to kill, she decided to take a walk around with a map in hand to explore the town of Santa Cruz and photograph people and historical sites as she promised Moises. While on the main street, Jan was spotted by the same taxi driver that had given her a ride from the airport to her hotel that morning. He pulled over to the sidewalk, rolled down the window, and called out to her.
“Señorita. Remember me? No need for a map. I can give you a tour of the city.”
“Gracias, but I’m short of money. I really can’t afford it.”
The driver was insistent. “No problema. It won’t cost much. Business is slow and I know all the places of interest.”
Jan considered his offer. “Okay, why not?”
She climbed into the battered taxi which was different from the one she had taken earlier to her hotel. The seat fabric was covered with numerous stains of all shapes and sizes. To avoid touching them, she pulled a napkin from her purse, placed it over a large soiled spot and gingerly positioned her body directly on top of it. She put another napkin on the seat next to her and placed her purse and camera bag on it. Jan wondered whether the stains were urine, oil, or food spills. She decided it was better not know; ignorance was bliss.
“So, what brings you to Santa Cruz?” the driver asked.
“I’m here to do travel stories for the Bolivian government. I want to see everything.”
The driver brightened and his eyes widened. “Perfecto, I’m the best person to show you this town.” They drove around for nearly an hour, conversing in broken Spanish before the tour ended.
“It’s a great town. But tell me something special about Santa Cruz that most tourists don’t know,” Jan inquired.
“What else would you like to know?” the driver asked.
Jan sat up to talk seriously. “I’m a writer doing research on the cocoa plant,” she revealed.
“Well, you came to the right place. Cocaine is abundant here.”
Jan played dumb. ¿Verdad? Really? I may be interested in buying some.”
“For the right price, I can get anything,” he responded.
“What’s the right price?” she inquired.
“It depends on how much you want.”
Her eyes lit up as she looked at him. “Perhaps a gram.”
“Está bién. That’s fine,” h
e answered, than turned down a nearby side street away from the center of town entering increasingly impoverished areas.
Suddenly, the risk she was taking hit her. “Is it dangerous?”
“It can be. But for such a small amount, not to worry.”
Was he telling the truth? Was she really safe? Jan was determined to play it very cool, knowing it was imperative not to make any mistakes that could jeopardize her plans the next day to meet with Moises in La Paz. Still, another contact could always be useful if needed and she decided to play along for the time being.
His reaction had been nonchalant, as if her asking to buy drugs was no big deal; like scoring tickets to a concert. That meant he was used to transacting drug deals, right? She was in South America to make a deal and he knew how to make it happen.
Sure, Moises would be helping her in La Paz, but that was the next day and there were no guarantees. Today, right now, she had the opportunity to buy ‘coke’ and she’d be a fool not to seize the moment. Everything was falling into place and working in her favor. Jan had never gotten anything in this world waiting around for things to happen. It’s not just a rule for cocaine smuggling; it’s a rule for life. As fate would have it, that one decision to ask the taxi driver for help would change her life forever.
The taxi stopped in front of an old adobe house and the driver got out. After arriving at the front door, he tapped on it and disappeared inside, returning a few moments later with a small paper packet in his hand for Jan. She looked at it curiously. The driver nodded his head for her to take the packet.
“¿Cuanto cuesta? How much do I owe you?” She asked.
“Nada. Nothing. Mi jefe pays me for customers.”
As he started the engine, a large, rather obese man with unruly, thick hair, long overdue for a haircut, came out of the house. He approached the car and motioned for Jan to roll down her window. Jan immediately complied.
Rendezvous With the Fat Man Page 3
