The Curious Case of the Missing Head

by Gabriel Farago

  ‘There are good reasons for this,’ said Jack and linked arms with Rebecca.

  ‘With you, there always are.’

  ‘Come, let’s take a walk and I’ll explain. There isn’t much time.’

  ‘You look dreadful, by the way.’

  ‘Haven’t slept much in the past three days.’

  ‘You’re not in trouble, are you?’

  ‘Not as such.’

  ‘And what does that mean?’

  ‘It’s complicated.’

  ‘You look like a man on the run.’

  ‘I could never hide anything from you,’ said Jack, grinning. ‘I’m not on the run, just lying low.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I’ll tell you.’

  During the next half hour, Jack told Rebecca everything that had happened to him since she’d returned to the United States with what was left of her brother’s body. He paused when it came to the Stolzfus handover on the beach three days earlier. ‘Now comes the really interesting bit,’ he said, lowering his voice.

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Rebecca, frowning.

  ‘Before I tell you, you have to promise me something. It’s hugely important and a lot is riding on it.’

  ‘What promise?’

  ‘Not to talk about what I’m about to tell you to anyone. I mean anyone; clear?’

  ‘Sure, but why? I don’t understand.’

  ‘You will in a moment. Promise?’

  ‘Promise.’

  ‘Zac wasn’t rescued by Navy SEALs as the White House wants us to believe and the papers are telling us. He was exchanged on a secluded beach for Alonso Cordoba, the convicted Colombian drug dealer on death row in Arizona.’

  Rebecca looked thunderstruck. ‘You can’t be serious, surely!’

  ‘I am. I was there—’

  ‘But he was executed!’ interrupted Rebecca.

  ‘No. He died together with his father and many others during a US air strike that destroyed the Cordoba compound in Bogota.’

  ‘But that was destroyed by rival cartels fighting one another,’ said Rebecca.

  Jack shook his head. ‘Not so. The air strike was ordered by the president himself, and carried out by the US Navy and Major Andersen personally, who then tragically crashed her fighter jet on her return during landing on the aircraft carrier. I saw that too.’

  ‘Jesus, Jack. This is crazy!’

  ‘Perhaps, and I am risking my neck telling you all this. But I believe you of all people deserve to know the truth. You do believe me, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, of course I do, but …’

  ‘It’s a lot to take in, I know, but we haven’t much time. I have a plane to catch tonight. I’m going to London to deal with another critical matter that has just come to light.’

  ‘Oh? There’s more?’

  ‘There sure is, and I only found out about it this morning on my way here from the Goddard Space Flight Center.’

  Jack and Rebecca sat down on a bench facing a pond full of ducks. Gizmo seemed to be mesmerised by the birds and was watching them intently.

  ‘Remember where I was when you rang me and asked for my help with Zac’s disappearance?’

  ‘Sure. You were in Africa, looking for your lost mother in the Sudan.’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘How is this relevant?’

  Jack took a deep breath and looked at Rebecca. ‘Because I found her,’ he said, choking with emotion.

  Rebecca looked at Jack in total disbelief. ‘You found her? Where?’

  ‘I firmly believe that destiny and fate brought us together in the most unlikely way imaginable. And it would never have happened without these extraordinary events we’ve just talked about.’

  ‘Please tell me.’

  While Gizmo was watching the ducks with his little tail wagging madly, Jack told Rebecca about the chance encounter that had led him to his mother. ‘And it only came about because of this,’ he said, pulling out the little cross hanging around his neck from the top of his shirt. ‘And I was only given this because I saved a young woman’s life just over there by the bridge sixteen years ago.’

  ‘Extraordinary! If that’s not destiny then – Oh my God!’ said Rebecca, as the full implications of what Jack had just told her began to sink in. ‘Your mother stayed behind when you left the compound with Zac? She was there when the air strike ...?’ Rebecca reached for Jack’s hand and squeezed it, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  ‘Yes, she was,’ whispered Jack.

  ‘I’m so sorry!’

  ‘Of course, I believed she had perished in the attack with all the others, until I received a phone call from Agabe this morning that changed everything.’

  ‘Changed what?’ Rebecca sniffed and wiped her wet cheeks with her hands.

  Jack reached into his pocket and handed Rebecca his crumpled handkerchief, which had seen better days.

  ‘I managed to talk to my mother on the phone just moments before the air strike and warn her, but I thought it was too late.’

  Rebecca blew her nose and looked at Jack with teary eyes.

  ‘According to Agabe, this is what happened. When my mother ran out of the building, as I told her to do, she bumped into him – literally. She told him about my warning and they ran to a little chapel in the garden behind the main building. Apparently, they managed to get inside and lie down on the floor just before the rockets hit and obliterated the compound buildings.’

  ‘They survived?’

  ‘Yes. The little chapel was badly damaged and the roof collapsed. My mother was injured but alive and Agabe was somehow able to carry her out. In the mayhem and chaos that followed, Agabe managed to take her to a monastery close by. The monks there took them in and are looking after her right now. She has been supporting the monastery for years and is well known there and highly regarded by the monks.’

  ‘How is she?’

  ‘Agabe said she’s doing fine. Don’t forget he’s a doctor. But that’s not their biggest problem.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘The Colombian army has been searching the area for survivors and rounding them up. Even the injured ones. They were all taken away.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Isn’t it obvious? Survivors could be very embarrassing if the truth about the attack were to somehow come out. And besides, the aim was to have the H Cartel obliterated once and for all, regardless of collateral damage. I believe the Americans and the Colombians made a deal. Hubert just about said as much. And the deal was, no survivors who could contradict the official version of events.’

  ‘Oh my God!’

  ‘That’s South America and the CIA for you,’ said Jack sadly. ‘Foreign policy Yankee style.’

  ‘So, where to from here?’

  ‘Not sure yet, but somehow I have to get my mother out of Colombia – urgently.’

  ‘And how are you going to do that?’

  ‘With help,’ said Jack, a hint of a smile spreading across his tired face.

  ‘Any ideas?’

  ‘Of sorts. That’s why I’m going to London.’

  ‘Isis?’

  ‘Very perceptive of you. I already spoke to her and Lola.’

  ‘You have a plan?’

  ‘We are working on it, but we have to move fast. If my mother – Rahima Cordoba, the wife of the once-feared drug baron – and Agabe were to be found, well ... they might as well have perished in the air strike.’

  ‘I can see why the CIA don’t want you around and perhaps talking to the press.’

  ‘No, and that’s not going to happen. Certainly not now with all this going on. I believe Tristan and I are the only “civilians” who know what really happened down there, and we’ve been signed up; silenced. If I were to step out of line, well, I could never come back to the US for starters, that’s for sure. And as we both know, the CIA has a long reach and a long memory – as Mr Assange is about to find out. That’s why I’m lying low, and that’s why I am telling you all th
is in confidence here and not in our office.’

  ‘I understand now.’

  ‘What have they told you about Zac?’ asked Jack, changing the subject.

  ‘Not much, really. All I know is that he is somewhere in a military hospital, recovering. That’s all.’

  ‘That’s what they told me too.’

  ‘We can but hope for the best,’ said Rebecca sadly.

  ‘Yes, for now. But let’s see where all this takes us, and never lose hope.’

  Rebecca looked at Jack and smiled. ‘That’s one of the many things I like about you, Jack.’

  ‘Oh? What’s that?’

  ‘You are such a hopeless optimist!’

  ‘Not just an incorrigible rascal then?’

  ‘That too, of course.’

  ‘Speaking of rascals,’ said Jack, ‘this one belongs to you now.’ Jack stood up and handed Gizmo’s lead to Rebecca. ‘At least two good walks a day and I am told he likes to watch television.’

  ‘Oh, does he now? Was there anything else?’

  ‘Not that I can think of. I’m sure you two will get along famously.’ Jack squatted down and gave Gizmo a pat on the head. ‘Listen here, mate, if you are nice to her, she might let you sleep on her bed.’ Jack winked at Rebecca, pointed to his watch and walked away.

  58

  Time Machine Studios, London: 22 July

  Jack was hoping that Boris would be waiting for him at the airport. The huge man was like a rock of certainty and safety he could count on. As Jack exited Arrivals at Heathrow, he could see Boris waving. It was a most reassuring sight, especially during such turbulent and unsettling times, and after a long night flight during which he had found it impossible to sleep.

  ‘Welcome back, Mr Jack,’ said Boris and gave Jack one of his rib-crushing bear hugs that Jack loved so much. It was a sign of genuine affection by a man of few words who was very fond of Jack.

  ‘We were very worried about you,’ said Boris as he merged the Bentley onto the M4 headed towards London. ‘Especially Miss Lola. But that’s all behind us now. You are here.’ Boris looked in the rear-view mirror and smiled. Jack was asleep in the back seat.

  ‘Jesus, Jack, you look terrible,’ said Lola, who was waiting for Jack at the lift in the underground garage of the Time Machine Studios.

  ‘That’s what Rebecca said,’ replied Jack. ‘It’s been a rough couple of days.’

  ‘I can see that. Come, Isis is waiting upstairs.’ Lola linked arms with Jack and pressed the lift button. ‘We have some good news for you that will cheer you up.’

  ‘I could do with some cheering up,’ said Jack, barely able to keep his eyes open.

  Isis stood next to the stone Buddha facing the lift in her top-floor apartment, holding two glasses of champagne in her hands. Wearing a dazzling crepe de Chine dress with double-flower print by Valentino and a pair of Jimmy Choo black stilettos that would have made Lady Gaga envious, she stepped forward and handed Jack a glass of champagne as soon as the lift doors opened and he walked out.

  ‘Just what I need,’ said Jack and gave Isis a peck on the cheek, careful not to smudge her perfect make-up. ‘Cheers! Did you dress up just to humiliate me?’ said Jack, taking a sip of champagne. ‘Look at me!’

  ‘You do have a certain rugged charm, Jack, even in your state, but your clothes are definitely only fit for the incinerator, don’t you think, Lola?’

  ‘Definitely. I’ll see to it as soon as he steps into the shower, which I must say is at least a few days overdue, don’t you think?’

  ‘All right you two, enough. I’m buggered!’

  ‘I can see that,’ said Isis. ‘Hungry?’

  ‘I could eat a horse!’

  ‘We thought so. Cook has prepared your favourite breakfast. Almost ready.’

  ‘Time for a shower?’

  ‘Your room’s waiting.’

  ‘Great! See you in a jiffy, guys,’ said Jack and took off his jacket.

  Isis looked at Lola. ‘You better go with him and see he doesn’t fall asleep in the shower. He can barely stand up.’

  ‘Leave him to me,’ said Lola, laughing, and followed Jack upstairs to his room. ‘I know how to keep a guy awake.’

  ‘I bet. Just don’t kill him!’

  Feeling relaxed after a long, hot shower, Jack was putting on his jeans when Lola walked into the room with a fresh shirt. ‘Feeling better?’ she asked.

  ‘A little.’

  ‘You know, my dad was a pilot. He taught me how to fly. He also taught me how to stay focused and alert under stress and keep fatigue under control even without sleep.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Sit down over there and I’ll show you.’

  Jack sat down and buttoned up his shirt. Standing behind him, Lola began to slowly massage his scalp, applying pressure with the tips of her fingers to the back of his head.

  ‘Oh, that feels good,’ said Jack, closing his eyes.

  ‘My goodness, you are so tense.’

  ‘I’m very worried.’

  ‘About your mother?’

  ‘Yes. If they find her ... I just can’t see how I can get her out in time.’

  ‘There may be a way.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Jack opened his eyes and tensed up again.

  ‘You are undoing all of my good work,’ scolded Lola and applied a little more pressure behind Jack’s ears. ‘Just relax and listen.’

  ‘All right.’

  ‘Remember Isis was thinking about another concert tour?’

  ‘Sure. She’s been talking about it for months. Coming out of retirement to please her adoring fans and all that. Would do her good.’

  ‘Well, she’s decided to go ahead with it. And it’s all because of you.’

  ‘I don’t understand!’

  ‘Hush. Just listen. Isis has hundreds of thousands of fans in Mexico and South America. Remember that concert in Mexico City in 2012?’

  ‘How could I forget? It was sensational!’

  ‘After your phone call the other day, we spoke to our agents over there and they are over the moon. They can’t wait to begin making arrangements and are talking about sold-out stadiums with mega crowds. Mexico City, Rio, Buenos Aires.’

  ‘What has my phone call to do with all that?’

  ‘You rang Isis and told her about your mother and what happened in Bogota. You asked for our help, remember?’

  ‘Yes, but how—’

  ‘She will tell you over breakfast. Now, just try to relax for a couple of minutes and give me a chance to banish the ghosts,’ said Lola and went to work on the back of Jack’s neck.

  Feeling remarkably refreshed after the hot shower and the magic touch of Lola’s fingers, Jack walked into the stunning dining room overlooking the Thames. Isis was seated at the table with a glass of champagne in her hand. ‘That’s a lot better,’ she said. ‘Now eat.’

  ‘Steak and eggs? You beauty!’ said Jack and began to tuck in with gusto. ‘Lola said you wanted to tell me something.’

  Isis looked accusingly at Lola. ‘You didn’t let the cat out of the bag, did you?’

  ‘Certainly not!’

  ‘Good. You did a lot for me and my family, Jack, when I needed it most,’ began Isis and refilled her glass. ‘I have never forgotten that. So, when you rang and asked for my help, Lola and I put our heads together ...’ Pursing her lips, Isis took a sip of champagne. ‘We believe we’ve come up with a way to help your mother.’

  Jack pushed his empty plate aside and looked at Isis. ‘How?’

  ‘I’ve decided to go ahead with the tour we’ve talked about.’

  ‘Lola told me.’

  ‘We already spoke to our agents in South America. I want to make a surprise announcement to kick it all off. Something spectacular—’

  ‘They thought it was an excellent idea,’ interjected Lola. ‘Especially as Isis promised to do this in person. Great TV footage. The fans will love it!’

  ‘And this will help my mother?’
/>
  ‘Yes,’ said Isis and pushed a glass of champagne across the table towards Jack.

  ‘How exactly?’

  ‘As most of my record sales are in South America, the announcement will be made over there.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Because Colombia has featured so prominently in the news lately and I have a lot of fans there, we have decided to do it in Bogota – for maximum impact and exposure.’

  For a while there was complete silence as Jack digested the implications of what Isis had just said. ‘What’s the plan?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘Isis will arrive in her private jet in Bogota and hold a press conference to announce the tour. Journalists from all over South America will be invited to attend,’ said Lola. ‘We’ll make sure it’s quite a spectacle. There may even be an impromptu performance of one of her signature songs. It would send the crowd wild, I can tell you. I will fly the plane, and you are coming with us. You will make contact with your mother and the doctor and we will smuggle them on board Pegasus while all this is happening. Boris will keep an eye on you and keep inquisitive wolves at bay.’

  ‘This sounds like something out of a Bruce Willis movie ... are you serious?’ asked Jack, shaking his head.

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Isis. ‘We’ll work out the details as we go. We’ll improvise. Don’t forget, there’s chaos over there right now.’

  ‘That’s what worries me,’ said Jack.

  ‘Chaos can be an advantage,’ suggested Lola. ‘Opens unexpected doors with unexpected opportunities.’

  ‘True. And you are prepared to do all this for me? With all the risks attached?’

  ‘Without hesitation,’ said Isis. ‘Wouldn’t miss it for quids, as you were so fond of telling us when I was in trouble.’

  ‘And where do we take my mother after we leave Colombia? If we manage to get her out of there, that is? She will be a fugitive without papers.’

  ‘All taken care of,’ said Isis, grinning, and lifted her glass. ‘Tell him, Lola.’

  ‘To France.’