Authors: Gary Ponzo
Moreno couldn’t help but notice how fidgety his men had become.
Tommy took a sip of his coffee and sighed. “Man, that’s good.”
“So what do you want?” Moreno asked.
Tommy pulled the toothpick from the corner of his mouth and pointed it at Moreno. “That is an excellent question. You’re exactly two questions ahead of the typical client interview.”
“Interview?”
“Yeah, that’s what this is—an interview. I need to know you’re prepared to pay for my services or we’re wasting both of our times.”
Moreno was grinding his teeth so hard, his cheekbones hurt.
“You want to kill me right now, huh?” Tommy said.
“Yes.”
“Yeah, well, there’s been a bit of that going around.”
While tapping his index finger on his desk, Moreno said, “Exactly what are you proposing to offer me?”
“I’m offering to hand you the names of the soldiers in your organization who want to bring you down.” Tommy glanced over his shoulder for a second, then said, “There are several.”
Moreno reached into the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a pistol. He slammed the gun on top of his desk and nodded to his men. “Leave us.”
The men left and Moreno leaned over his desk, the fury turning his hands into fists. “Now, tell me,” he sneered.
Tommy uncrossed his legs and calmly placed his coffee on the desk. “You do understand that this information will cost you, right? I mean, I’ve already paid over a hundred thousand in bribe money to hear about some of these disgruntled employees.”
Moreno’s darkest fears were coming true. A mutiny. He grabbed the gun and pointed it at Tommy. “Tell me now.”
The man glared at Moreno. “Listen, Saddam, uh, I mean Pablo, look at me. Do I look scared to you?”
Moreno had to admit to himself, the guy seemed completely comfortable in his own skin. Sitting there, staring down the most powerful man in Colombia as if he were talking with his children.
When Moreno didn’t answer, Tommy continued, “It’s because I’m not the one with a bounty on my head. I’m not the one moving his cocaine operations into FARC territory. No, you can’t afford to get rid of me, because I’m the only thing keeping you from slipping in the shower and never getting up. Sort of like that FARC rebel who took a fall in his bathroom last year, but we all know it was you who had him killed, then made it look like an accident.”
Moreno couldn’t believe the information this man had at his fingertips. The only way he could have this knowledge is from people inside his own organization. There was no other way.
“All right,” Moreno said. “Enough. What do you want?”
Tommy jabbed his toothpick between his two front teeth, then made a sucking sound as he yanked it out. “I’ll need one hundred thousand dollars here by noon. That’ll be the first of four weekly installment payments. Each time I return I will give you more information. By the final visit you will have the name of every traitor within your group.”
“What do I do in the meantime with this,” Moreno flung his gun around in a circle, “insubordination? How am I supposed to know who to trust?”
“Tell you what,” Tommy said, seeming concerned. “Let me talk with some of your men. I can discuss certain things, maybe solidify some of my evidence. Give them an order to talk with me about some of their activities. Tell them I’m here to keep you safe from a small rebellion. They won’t trust me, but that won’t matter. I’ve got a good bullshit detector. I’ll be able to figure out who’s really leading this thing. We cut off the head, the rest will scatter for cover.”
Moreno was still reeling from the inside information this man had and just knew it was imperative to speed up this process. “Okay,” Moreno said. “Here is my offer. I will have five hundred thousand dollars waiting for you at noon. This is one hundred thousand dollars more than you requested. In return you will give me the name of every mutinous bastard in my organization.”
Tommy nodded. “All right. I can do that.”
“In return for this extra payment,” Moreno held up his index finger, “I want one name. Right now.”
Tommy jabbed the toothpick into a couple of teeth, while Moreno squinted at the piece of wood. “What? You don’t like my toothpick?”
“It is a disgusting habit.” Moreno cringed.
Tommy held up the stick. “This actually has vitamins laced into the wood. It’s actually healthy for you. I get it online from a small company out of Delaware.”
The man’s casual behavior caused Moreno to put the gun on him again. “The name.”
“Okay,” Tommy said. “I can tell you that this CIA agent you’ve hired, Chris Garber, this man is not to be trusted. I think you’ll find out shortly why he has double-crossed you.”
Moreno’s brain was pounding with a severe headache. He felt as if there were cockroaches crawling all over his body and he needed to kill them quickly. Suddenly people he trusted were not trustworthy. This was working on his extreme fear of losing power. He could not afford to have this happen.
“All right,” Moreno said. “Go back down to the lobby and I will send some men down there to speak with you, one at a time. Find out what you can and report back to me at noon. I will have the money waiting for you.”
Tommy picked up his coffee and headed toward the door. “Okay. But you’d better hope nothing happens to me, Pablo. Because you’ve got a house full of termites and I’m the only exterminator in town. Got that?”
Moreno hated the condescending tone of this intruder, but his attitude only accented the man’s leverage. “You will be safe as long as you stay inside my building.”
As Tommy opened the door, he glanced back at Moreno. “Oh, and by the way, I’d recommend you keep tabs on that Padilla guy you have in the Amazon. He’s not exactly the best listener. And if something should happen to his prisoner, you would take on a whole new set of enemies which you don’t need right now.”
The guy was out the door and gone before Moreno could figure out what had just happened. He drummed his fingers along his desk and thought about the strange meeting. A sense of mistrust enveloped him and he needed to act quickly.
Moreno considered which of his men he thought he could trust. He pushed a button on his desk phone. “Anthony, get in here.”
A few moments later, one of his men came rushing in with anticipation in his eyes. Instead of trepidation, there was an eager expression on his face. He had no reason to act any different because he had no guilt in his heart. Just the desire to excel at his position.
“You see that man who was in my office?” Moreno asked.
Anthony nodded.
“He’ll be waiting in the lobby. Keep a couple of men stationed there. Make sure he is protected. Have the rest of the men come speak with him, one at a time.”
“Yes.” Anthony waited for more instructions.
Moreno glanced up at the monitor and viewed Tommy reaching the lobby. The man sat down and crossed his legs. The picture of comfort. He was either the most confidant man in the world, or he was the world’s greatest con artist. Another thought entered Moreno’s suspicious mind. A more sinister thought.
“Also,” Moreno said, “have Gabriela print you a picture of him from the surveillance camera. I need you to contact our people at the embassy and find out who he is.”
Anthony seemed to appreciate the chore. “Yes, right away, El Patron.”
The soldier was almost out the door, when Moreno said, “And Anthony, make sure this man can never leave the building.”
The door shut and Moreno thought about his prisoner in the jungle and Tommy’s comments about Manny Padilla’s unreliable listening abilities. He picked up the phone and made his first call of the day to the jungle camp. President Merrick would be there soon and he needed to ensure his soldiers were all in place.
After all, he had a busy day ahead. He had a mutiny to destroy and a president to kill.
Chapter 25
Air Force One landed at Bogota International Airport with the usual fanfare received by a visiting president to a foreign country. Under cloudy skies, the Colombian Army assembled along the tarmac in formation. Their rifles by their sides in respect. As the truck with the air stairs rolled up to the open door, President Merrick sat at the window and watched the first group of Marines exit the plane single file. Their weapons weren’t drawn or even horizontal, but their stature alone cause the Colombian Army to stare at the soldiers with a sense of awe.
A previous plane had landed an hour earlier with a squadron of Marines and Secret Service agents who had already secured a perimeter.
Standing by the terminal, surrounded by a dozen military guards, was President Santoro. He wore a navy blue suit and a roguish grin. Behind him were twenty or more reporters with their phone cameras out and a few local media stations with their film crews to document the event for the evening news that night.
There was a podium set up on the tarmac facing the terminal and the throng of media elbowed each other for a vital position.
Samuel Fisk sat next to Merrick and scowled at the scene like a parent watching a toddler playing in the front yard and getting too close to the street.
“See the guy next to Santoro?” Fisk asked.
Merrick examined the short man with the barrel chest and swelled up biceps which couldn’t hide beneath his tight suit jacket. “Uh huh.”
“That’s Vice President Roberto Sanchez. He’s a little too involved with the drug trade, but he’s sane. Someone we could deal with in earnest.”
“So should we try to get him alone and discuss the situation?”
“No. It would be the height of disrespect and Santoro would have him eliminated if he sensed a threat to his position of power. I’m just telling you this in case Santoro should find an early exit to his presidency.”
As they waited to get clearance to exit, Merrick spotted Fisk glancing at his phone with rapt attention.
“What?” Merrick asked.
Fisk stared at the text message. “They are in place.”
Merrick seemed to understand. “Good.”
Fisk looked up at Merrick. “They were ambushed. Moreno knew they were coming.”
“How?”
“Apparently we had an agent turn.”
A Secret Service agent poked his head through the open doorway. “It is all secure, sir.”
Merrick nodded. “All right, let’s go.”
Fisk placed a hand on Merrick’s arm to keep him down in his seat. “We’re here to discuss your brother’s whereabouts, right?”
“Yes.”
“So why do I have the feeling there’s more going on here that you’re not telling me?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because you’re paranoid.”
Fisk grabbed Merrick’s palm and turned it over exposing a handful of nails bitten down to the cuticle.
“Okay, you caught me, I’m upset about Trent. If I were getting therapy, that would be considered normal behavior.”
“You might be able to pull that off with someone who doesn’t know you, but that’s not going to fly with me. So you’d better come clean or I swear I’ll have the Secret Service force you back into this plane and take us home.”
Merrick turned away. “Look, Sam, I already have this planned out. I’m going to meet with Moreno and have fifty million from our black fund wired to his bank account. That’s the deal.” When he looked back to Fisk, his eyes were flaring with rage.
“No, you can’t,” Fisk said.
“I can and I will,” Merrick said. “After that I’ll resign. I would’ve used my position to take advantage of funds that didn’t belong to me.”
“Resign?” Fisk half-laughed. “Are you kidding? You’ll be dead.”
Merrick looked away again, finding interest in the empty fuselage. “Maybe.”
“Then I’m coming with you.”
“No. I do this alone. I’m not taking you down with me.”
Merrick stood and walked toward the door. Fisk watched him walk down the staircase to the tarmac and wave to the crowd of reporters who were permitted to attend. There was serenity about his demeanor. Like a man walking to the electric chair, relieved the waiting was over. He’d left it up to Fisk to become complicit with his plan or cause a national uproar and destroy both of their careers.
“Shit,” whispered Fisk. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with you, John?”
* * *
Manny Padilla heard the explosion in the distance. The plane going up in flames as anticipated. What he didn’t expect, however, was the phone call afterward telling him that the FBI’s rescue team had escaped before the plane was destroyed. It gave him reason to send a second and third wave of soldiers to backup his original squad of Camenos. There were just six people sent down to the Amazon to attempt the futile mission and Padilla wondered just how suicidal these agents were? Certainly they couldn’t expect to defeat an army of soldiers who were trained to engage their enemy in this environment.
Padilla wiped his brow of jungle humidity, never really knowing if it was raining or just the residual moisture which swelled up in the branches overhead. It was almost time for him to leave and somehow it made the conditions more tolerable. He’d kept his best men behind to prepare an ambush for any of the survivors who managed to escape his security force.
His phone chirped and he frowned when he saw who was calling. He took a big breath and forced a smile as he answered. “Good morning, Pablo,” he said. “How can I help you?”
There was a slight hesitation on the other line. “Tell me about the failed rescue. They are all dead, yes?”
Padilla strangled his phone with a tight grip. “Not yet. But they will not survive until lunch.”
“Manny, tell me, how does this happen? You were given the exact location where the plane was landing. Did the pilot land elsewhere?”
Padilla wanted to scream at the guy. Every little setback was instant drama. “Do not concern yourself about this, Pablo. I have it under control.”
“Do you?”
“These men were told ahead of time about the ambush. There is no other explanation.”
Moreno said nothing. He seemed to be absorbing the impact of Padilla’s comment.
“Tell me, then,” Moreno finally said. “How is the prisoner? Is he still alive?”
Padilla was already walking toward the prisoner’s tent when he heard the phone ring. He brushed aside the mosquito netting and saw the body on the dirt floor. A single line of Red Chigger Ants formed by the man’s broken leg, entering his body through an open wound. The blood pooled around the entry site and Padilla could see where the American’s exposed leg was already caved in from where the ants were eating away at his tissue.