The Bonita Protocol

by P J Skinner

  ‘Are you sure this is a good idea,’ he said.

  ‘No, but I don’t have a better one. Come on, let’s get ready,’ said Sam.

  They dressed in black hoodies with black trousers and shoes.

  ‘We look like cat burglars,’ said Sam.

  ‘Let’s go. The sooner we leave the sooner we get back.’

  They hailed a taxi in the street and got it to drop them outside the fenced compound which contained the laboratory. The facility had been built on a piece of bare ground on the outskirts of Calderon. There were several street lights dropping a yellow glow onto the pavement. Getting through the fence did not prove difficult, as a large gap had opened where the fencing had come away from a post at the side.

  As they squeezed through the gap, Sam snagged her back trouser pocket on a loose piece of wire.

  ‘Damn.’

  ‘What?’ Alfredo whipped around, his eyes on stalks.

  ‘Nothing. I tore my trousers.’

  ‘Get a grip. You gave me a fright.’

  Sam sighed. They skirted around the windowless building until they came to a locked door which was opened using a key pad.

  ‘Now what do we do?’ said Alfredo.

  ‘How many digits does it have,’ said Sam.

  ‘Four numbers. We’re screwed. We’ll never guess it,’ said Alfredo, sagging against the wall. Sam joined him and took a cigarette she had scrounged from Gloria from behind her ear. They shared it even though neither of them normally smoked. Sam bit her lip searching her brain for inspiration.

  ‘We should go home,’ said Alfredo. ‘This is hopeless.’

  ‘No, give me a few more minutes. It must be something obvious. Rhett is not Brain of the Universe. If we only knew his birthday…’

  She trailed off. Alfredo glanced at her. A smirk had crept across her features.

  ‘St Patrick’s Day,’ she said.

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘His birthday. It’s the seventeenth of March. He told me in Toronto.’

  Sam got to her feet and tapped the numbers into the pad. There was a prolonged beep and a click and the door swung open to her touch.

  ‘Bingo,’ said Sam.

  ‘You’re a genius.’

  ‘Let’s see if we can find anything first.’

  The condensation on the block walled interior of the building made it cold and damp. Alfredo switched on the fluorescent lighting which flickered into life illuminating a sterile concrete floor and some chrome work tables. At the far end of the laboratory a large drum-like machine sat on a small platform.

  ‘That’s the Nelson concentrator,’ said Sam.

  ‘What’s it for?’ said Alfredo.

  ‘It’s a machine that separates fine gold from other materials like sand or heavy minerals. It’s like a giant centrifuge.’

  The flex of the Nelson led to an industrial plug which had been shoved into a socket that hung off the wall with its wires exposed. The drum had been wiped clean but there were traces of black sand on the floor.

  ‘Someone has been using this,’ said Alfredo.

  Sam nodded. She scoured the benches for proof of malfeasance but they had been wiped clean and the samples were packed into shelves along the walls of the building in numbered alcoves.

  ‘This is pointless. There is no way of knowing what, if anything, they were doing to put gold into the samples,’ said Alfredo.

  He kicked a dustbin which fell over, its lid skidding across the floor. Sam bent over to pick it up and saw a piece of paper stuck in the lid. It had been screwed up into a ball and had wedged itself under the rim. She removed it and flattened it on one of the work tables. She drew in a sharp breath.

  ‘Holy crap.’

  ‘What is it? What have you found?’ said Alfredo.

  ‘It’s a description of the process for salting the samples for analysis.’

  ‘Oh my God. We’ve found it.’

  ‘They’ve even got a name for it. The Bonita Protocol.’

  ‘We’ve got to get out of here.’

  They put the bin back where they found it and they retraced their steps out of the building.

  ‘Don’t forget to switch off the lights,’ said Alfredo.

  Sam trotted over to the light switch and pushed it firmly. Darkness swallowed her up.

  ‘Open the door, Alfredo.’

  A chink of light became visible and she felt her way towards it. They shut the door and made for the fence, creeping along through the weeds and broken bottles that littered the forecourt. A putrid smell wafted across their path.

  ‘That’s a dead rat,’ said Sam. ‘We had one under the floorboards once.’

  ‘We’ll be dead too if we don’t get out of here,’ said Alfredo.

  They scuttled across the yard and through the hole in the fence. It took an age to flag down a taxi in that part of town so they started walking towards the centre. Their clothing attracted the attention of an old woman who shared her condolences for their loss. Giggling, they reached the edge of the town centre where an ancient taxi picked them up and took them home.

  When Gloria turned up at two o’clock, both Sam and Alfredo came downstairs to fill her in on their progress. She slumped onto the sofa.

  ‘You’ve no idea what I had to put up with tonight. Amanda thinks she’s going to be a multi-millionaire,’ said Gloria. ‘She gloated all evening, saying nothing could stop her now.’

  ‘Nothing except us,’ said Sam. ‘We found what we were looking for.’

  ‘You did? I can’t believe it.’

  ‘A stray piece of paper is all it took,’ said Alfredo. ‘We’ve got them now.’

  ‘What will you do next?’ said Gloria.

  ‘I need to go back to Cerro Calvo,’ said Sam.

  ‘Are you crazy? Why on earth would you do that?’ said Alfredo.

  ‘We need to send one more batch of samples for analysis, but this time, we alert the laboratory about the fraud so that they will examine the samples under a microscope before analysis. They will find the free gold grains in there which are not part of the sample. Also, they will find minute quantities of mercury attached to the gold.’

  ‘But what if someone finds out that we were in the laboratory?’ said Alfredo.

  ‘How will they know that? Don’t be paranoid. We got in and out without a problem,’ said Sam.

  ‘Gloria, tell her.’

  ‘Sam’s more stubborn than most mules. I don’t waste my time,’ said Gloria, taking a drag of her cigarette. ‘How did the protocol work?’

  ‘Basically, they centrifuged the black sand to get the free gold out and then added the gold in prescribed amounts to the crushed samples before sending them for analysis.’

  ‘Isn’t that illegal?’ said Alfredo

  ‘I think so. It’s definitely fraud. People are investing in the project on the basis of these fake results,’ said Sam.

  ‘So theoretically we could buy shares in Bonita Mining and watch them soar?’ said Gloria.

  ‘That’s also illegal. It’s called inside trading,’ said Sam.

  ‘Just checking.’

  ‘Anyway, I’m going to take them down so you won’t be able to sell your shares when I’ve done with them. You could always invest in Granoro but I think their shares are ludicrously over-priced now,’ said Sam.

  Chapter XIX

  Amanda watched the smoke rings from her cigarette rise to the ceiling of her office. A deep contentment infiltrated her body as she reminisced about the young buck she seduced in Toronto. She hummed tunelessly waiting for the phone to ring with her call to Stan Gordon, CEO of Granoro. She was so close to success she could almost touch it.

  The shrill tone made her jump even though she expected it. She levered herself into a sitting position and grasped the handset.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Your call to Canada, madam,’

  ‘Thank you. Stan, is that you?’

  ‘Yes., it is, who’s… Amanda Ballard! Is that you.’r />
  ‘Yes, a large as life and twice as natural,’ she purred.

  ‘What can I do for you, Miss Ballard? I hear your father gave you a company to play with.’

  Amanda bristled; an insult stuck in her throat as she fought to control her reaction. No-one took her seriously. It was her father’s fault. His condescending manner, when she was around, gave out all the wrong signals. People saw a spoilt rich girl. They had no idea what she was capable of.

  ‘This is a serious enterprise, Stan. Have you seen our results?’

  ‘Sure, they’re almost as good as ours.’

  ‘I didn’t manage to catch up with you at the PDAC. I wondered how the due diligence is going?’

  ‘They’re on track to report back this month some time. Why?’

  ‘No reason. We hope to close a deal shortly and I wanted to dovetail with you.’

  ‘Ah, I get it. You’re looking to ride on our coat tail? Well, get on board, everybody’s doing it.’

  ‘Our project can stand up for itself.’

  ‘Really? I doubt it can stand up to scrutiny. I’d be careful if I were you. Don’t go burning those pretty fingers of yours.’

  She was about to launch into a tirade, but at that moment, Rhett burst into her office, his face white with shock and she thought the better of it.

  ‘Oh, you’ll soon find out won’t you. Good luck.’

  ‘Goodbye Amanda.’

  She replaced the handset with deliberation and turned a laser-like glare at Rhett.

  ‘Who the hell do you--’

  ‘Someone’s been in the laboratory,’ he said.

  Amanda’s eyes widened.

  ‘How the hell did that happen. Isn’t there a key pad on the lock? Did they break in?’

  ‘No, the door was locked when I got there this morning. I don’t know how they got the code.’

  ‘I thought you had cleaned it out. Did they take anything?’

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t think so.’

  ‘You don’t think so? Are you nuts? Go back and revise the whole building. Don’t return until you find something.’

  ‘You need to drive over with me. I’m not doing this alone.’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake man.’

  But she stood up and grabbed her handbag.

  ‘What are you waiting for? Let’s go,’ she said.

  The laboratory echoed with the clatter of her high heels but otherwise it gave away no secrets. The chrome benches were clean, the samples tidied away and the Nelson had been wiped out.

  ‘Are you sure someone was here?’ said Amanda.

  ‘Positive. I left a match jammed in the door and it was inside.’

  ‘But what were they looking for?’

  ‘I don’t know. It’s what they found that matters.’

  Amanda dropped her cigarette on the floor and bent down to pick it up. What appeared to be a small, flat muslin bag poked out from underneath the dustbin.

  ‘What’s this?’ she said, tugging it out.

  It was a teabag. Rhett went rigid as he recognised it.

  ‘That’s one of Sam’s. She must have been here.’

  ‘But how did she get in? Have you been sharing pillow talk with her? I’ll kill you,’ said Amanda, seizing his shirt front.

  Rhett shook himself free.

  ‘With her? Are you mad? I wouldn’t be seen dead…No, wait.’ He held his head in his hands. ‘Shit, I know. I told her my birthday was on Saint Patrick’s Day. She must have remembered.’

  ‘For fuck’s sake. You moron! What are we going to do now?’

  ‘Now hold on a minute. There was nothing in here that told her anything she didn’t know already.’

  ‘But she was looking. She’s on to us.’

  Rhett sighed.

  ‘I guess she is.’

  ‘We only have to hold out a couple of weeks. Go up to Cerro Calvo with her and make sure she doesn’t come back.’

  ‘Hang on. I’m not on board for murder. I won’t do it.’

  ‘Do you want to be a millionaire or not? I’m sure you can make it look like an accident.’

  Rhett stared at her.

  ‘Boy, you’re some piece of work. I wouldn’t like to cross you.’

  ‘And you won’t. Deal with this one last obstacle while I get us our money. Trust me.’

  What choice did he have? He had committed fraud and would go to prison anyway if they were caught. Sam was collateral damage. No one would miss her and by the time they did, it would be too late. Javier would do anything for money.

  ***

  Rhett had been subdued on the journey to Arboleda. At first Sam revelled in the absence of his usual rude and ironic commentary on the vagaries of life. After a while she realised to her annoyance that she missed his stream of consciousness which always broke up the trip and distracted her from the massive cliffs along the road of death.

  He would not look her in the eye either. Were they going to fire her? That would be ironic considering what she was planning to do. Time was closing in on all sides. She had to get the samples out of camp and on their way with Rhett to Calderon.

  The E-coli café menu offered pig trotter soup and tripe with rice for lunch so they opted to eat a cheese roll and a packet of crisps at the half-way house instead. Pepe put their luggage on mules and they started up the hill. Rhett walked in front of them, and did not chat to her, so she put one foot in front of the other and thought about Yannis and how his laugh made her feel. Her hurt over the Fergus debacle had totally vanished the minute he took her in his arms.

  When they got to the shack at half way, Sam ordered them each a cheese and ham roll and some plain crisps. She leaned over the counter and whispered to the owner.

  ‘Where’s my friend?’

  ‘He retired.’

  ‘He what?’

  ‘Retired. Went home to his mother. She’s not well.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Sam found it hard to believe. It felt like the project was falling apart before her eyes. Her sense of urgency increased. She ate her sandwich and crisps with no pleasure. The bread was stale and the cheese like rubber. Señor Muerte had retired and I feel bad? What was going on?

  When they arrived at the camp, Rhett shook Javier’s hand and immediately disappeared into the worker’s accommodation with him. Sam got the message and went to her room where she found a beautiful orchid in a pot on the desk. She didn’t have to ask who it was from.

  When she came down to dinner, the atmosphere reeked of plotting. Javier glanced at her with scorn and went back to eating his food. Rhett smoked in the corner showing no interest in dinner. The smell that met her descent told her that Selma had also cooked tripe. They must have slaughtered a cow in Arboleda.

  Holding her breath so she didn’t breathe in the tripe fumes, Sam requested two fried eggs with rice.

  ‘Can I eat in my room please? I really can’t stand the smell of tripe.’

  ‘Of course.’ Selma hesitated. ‘Did you fight with Señor Rhett?’

  ‘Not that I know of.’

  ‘Maybe he’s jealous of your boyfriend.’

  Sam guffawed.

  ‘Now that I very much doubt.’

  Selma sniffed.

  ‘You’re an attractive young woman. Señor Rhett has no taste.’

  Sam wolfed down the rice and eggs and got into bed. She was thrilled to note that the sheets were dry instead of damp due to the warmth percolating through the house from the brick oven. As much as she hated to admit it, Javier had been the architect both figuratively and literally of this great idea. She should acknowledge him.

  The next morning, she jumped out of bed, full of ideas for Amanda’s downfall. She dressed in her khaki trousers and filled the pockets with packets of peanuts, biscuits and chocolate as she had no intention of eating left over tripe for lunch. She put a flask of tea, a coated-cloth tape measure, a can of spray paint, a compass, a geological hammer, her notebook, Magnalite torch, some spare batteries and wind-up torch into her
rucksack.

  She also packed a photocopy of Galo Martin’s map of the adits with the intention of exploring everything he had mapped, and of sampling the far ends of the adits to see if the veins had been faulted out of their original direction before giving up on the project.

  Sam still harboured the faint hope that the geology would yield up a surprise and a genuine deposit lurked under the high-grade veins waiting to be drilled. It was not in her nature to destroy things no matter the provocation she suffered. Amanda might not be all bad, just showing off to get her father’s attention and she had seen how Gloria had battled the same way.

  Buoyed by her faith that it would all turn out right in the end, she bounced down the stairs for breakfast. Rhett grunted in reply to her cheery greeting. Amanda must have been pissing him off again. He almost never let it get him down.

  She left him to his mood and had a hearty breakfast of porridge followed by scrambled eggs on toast. She didn’t believe all the propaganda about eating only one egg a week. The chickens had probably invented that rumour so they wouldn’t have to lay so many eggs.

  Kennedy and Marlon waited for her at the core shed. They had laid out the boxes from the latest drilling for her to see before they cut the cores in quarters. Sam dutifully reviewed the metres of barren rock with them, nodding sagely and pretending there was some point sending them for sample analysis.

  The geologists were not at fault. Since the results of the last holes had come back positive, they were only following the apparent trail left by the gold. They had no idea the samples had been salted. Sam herself had told them that mineralisation was not always obvious.

  She walked down to the stream and panned some of the sediment, revealing flakes of gold in the bottom of her pan. These she wrapped in a piece of tissue paper and put in her pocket. She intended to mix it in with one of the samples from the faulted zone in the granite where the rock was crumbly and no-one would spot the gold.

  Napoleon waited for her outside the mine. He was sitting on an upturned ore cart, his skin grey and mottled. She could hear his rasping breath as she crossed to the adit. Her stomach clenched with horror at the sound. It had got a lot worse.

  Javier emerged from the adit. He tried to hurry past but Sam stopped him.