by Scott Cook
“Don’t give up hope yet,” he said. “I think I saw something that might help… ah, here.”
He opened an Excel spreadsheet that had, of all things, a list of web-based accounts and passwords. He grinned at me and pointed to the BBVA record.
“A gibberish password,” I said. “No wonder he writes them down… but that’s way too easy to get ahold of…”
Umberto shrugged, “Locked door, locked computer… hijo de puta…”
The password didn’t work. It was a series of eight characters, seemingly random. Although character five and eight were the same. I pondered that for a moment and motioned Umberto to slide back from the desk.
“What are you thinking?” he asked as I began to rifle.
“You try the filing cabinets,” I suggested. “I’m thinking that these are cyphers. That they’re encrypted and that someplace he’s got a decryption key.”
“Madre de dios… this is good thinking, amigo,” Umberto said and grinned at me.
“I wasn’t always a cop,” I quipped.
He laughed, “Fractured the occasional law! The Beverly Hills Cop is also un favorito.”
He really was a movie buff.
It took nearly fifteen minutes, but I finally hit pay dirt. Taped to the underside of the desktop, far back so that I had to pull the shallow top drawer far out to find it was a folded piece of paper. I carefully removed it and opened it up.
Umberto came over and looked at it over my shoulder, “What does this mean?”
On the paper was written the word: salad and the letter: M. I looked at him and then back at the paper in dismay.
“This too is a code,” Umberto suggested. “A hint for him to remember his key.”
“A salad…?” I ruminated. “And the letter M… a salad… why does that seem familiar…”
“There are many types of salad,” Umberto said in a tone that sounded frustrated.
I rocked back in the chair and tapped my chin, “Conch salad… cob salad…”
“Fruit salad,” Umberto mused, “Tres frejoles…”
Suddenly I rocked forward and snapped my fingers, “Caesar salad!”
Umberto looked at me in puzzlement.
I laughed, “The Caesar cypher, mijo! It’s actually twenty-six cyphers, one for each letter. All you need to know is which one. In this case, M. That means M is A… so the first letter in his password, R would be the letter F… then the X is actually an L…”
I was typing it out in an empty field on the Excel file next to the bank password. Finally I was finished and the password spelled out the name Florence.
“Florence?” I asked. “Who the hell is Florence? His mom or something?”
Umberto shrugged, “Who knows? Try it.”
I went back to the browser and typed Florence into the password field and we were in. We both laughed out loud and high fived each other like a couple of kids.
I slapped my hands together and rubbed them vigorously, “Okay, we’re in business! Nyehehehehehe! Now let’s see what old Miles has been up to…”
There were a dizzying array of transactions. Many from United States banks, which was probably where EcoLife funds were transferred for the project. A host of local businesses receiving funds, including Umberto’s own. We also noticed several payouts to something called the Pan American Relief Fund.
“What’s this?” I asked Umberto.
He frowned, “I’m not sure. I’ve never heard of it.”
“Well, this bank account has transferred ninety-thousand American dollars into it over the last three months,” I noted. “In regular increments of ten thousand smackers.”
“Try the Google,” he suggested.
I tried the Google. I finally got a hit on the organization on page six. It seemed to be a charity set up to assist under privileged Central American families. It also seemed to work with the Catholic Church, as the organization seemed to be cooperatively run by them. There were half a dozen churches listed in Nicaragua, Costa Rica and Panama.
“Hmm…” I muttered. “Curiouser and curiouser…”
“You think this means something?” Umberto asked.
“I don’t have a damned clue,” I admitted, “but it could. This could be a multi-layered method for distributing funds to Garcia’s army. One of those churches is listed as being in Monte de Dios.”
Our eyes locked and he grinned, “Have we hit the jackpot?”
When the office door flew open and Miles Palmer stood in it clad only in a robe, I thought that maybe we had, although not in the way we expected. His hair was disheveled and the robe looked to have been hastily tied.
“Good evening, Miles,” I said pleasantly. “I’m sorry if we’ve disturbed you… but in our defense, you were supposed to be out.”
Palmer wore a scowl and held a small revolver in his hand. Umberto moved quickly to block me and I moved quickly to close all of the applications on the computer and shut the lid.
“What are you doing in here?” Palmer asked angrily.
“Snooping, of course. The real question,” I said, leaning back in the office chair, “is what is she doing here?”
Karen Alldroid appeared behind Palmer in the doorway. She too was clad only in a robe and her hair was also in a state of disarray.
“Miles, what’s—“ The biologist started to ask but stopped short when she saw Umberto and myself.
“None of your business,” Palmer snapped.
“Uh-huh,” I said.
“Please put that gun away, Miles,” Umberto said firmly but gently. “You could hurt someone.”
“You two had better have a damned good explanation for this,” Palmer seethed.
“So had you, Miles.”
The woman’s voice that had spoken was not that of Doctor Alldroid. And when Lisa stepped into view, shoving the taller woman aside, I actually felt a tiny surge of sympathy for Palmer. Lisa’s pretty blue eyes flashed and the knuckles of her right hand whitened as she tightened her grip on her pistol.
“Oh, this is delicious!” I said with a grin. “Welcome to the party everyone. What are you doing here, Lisa?”
Her face was taught with anger, “I changed my mind. Borrowed Juan’s car and came to see what I could do to help. I thought maybe I could find out something… and I was right!”
Miles looked ashen. Lisa looked at Karen’s and Miles’ state of undress, then at me and then back at the evident bed fellows again.
“Is somebody going to explain this?” Miles asked sternly, using his big wig corporate voice.
Umberto and I were chuckling. I wore a big smile on my face, “I think you’d better go first, Miles.”
“What the fuck!” Lisa asked angrily, looking between Karen and Miles.
“I can explain,” Miles and I said in perfect unison.
I couldn’t help myself. I knew that’s what he’d say and it worked out beautifully. I began to laugh my ass off.
Umberto joined in, “I told you, miho! Just like on the Magnum!”
“Let’s focus on the crime for now,” Miles urged in a strong tone. “What the hell were you doing on my computer, Jarvis?”
“We were only playing solitaire,” I protested.
“The two of you?” Lisa asked wryly.
“Uh-oh, Umberto… they’ve seen through my clever ruse!”
“Goddammit!” Miles barked. “What are you two doing in my office and on my computer?”
“Searching for evidence,” I said, “and we found some interesting stuff, too. Stuff to go along with what I already know. In truth, Palmer, it’s you who has some explaining to do.”
“What’s the meaning of this, Umberto?” Miles asked angrily, trying to bluster his way out of the cluster fudge in which he found himself.
“What’s the meaning of this,” Lisa said, indicating Karen with her pistol.
“Okay, okay,” I said, holding up a hand. “Let’s everybody calm down. Why doesn’t everybody just put those weapons away and we’ll all have a n
ice little gum flap, here.”
“Oh, you’re just loving this, aren’t you?” Lisa asked peevishly.
I smiled broadly, “Oh, God yeah. I haven’t seen anything this scrumptiously dramatic since the whole Ross and Rachel debacle.”
“They were spying!” Karen protested. “That’s the most important thing right now.”
“Actually, it is,” I said. “Not the fact that old Palmer here is two timing it with both of you ladies. Guess when you get to be a big shot business guy, its okay to have two broads, huh?”
“Fuck you,” Karen snapped at me.
“I’ll get in line,” I said.
“Scott, this isn’t funny,” Lisa said quietly.
“It isn’t?” I asked and turned to Umberto. “What do you think, Umberto?”
“It’s a little bit funny,” he said with a chuckle.
“All right, that’s enough!” Miles declared. “Jarvis, you’d better start explaining yourself. How dare you accuse me—“
I scoffed. “Let me tell you something, Palmer. It’s you who’d better start talking. Because one way or another, I’m getting the answers I want. So far, I’ve tried to do it on the down low, but I’m not averse to tuning you up to get them. And I suspect that Lisa here is not far from giving you a good ass kicking, too.”
“What’re you talking about?” he asked.
“I’m talking about you sleeping with Karen here while you’re also playing at being Lisa’s boyfriend,” I said. “Duh!”
He scowled.
“Oh, oh… the flip side,” I quipped. “I’m talking about you secretly funding Manuel Garcia’s army to launch the real Cuidad Verde project in Nicaragua. Once he overthrows the government, of course.”
“That’s what Andrea’s doing!” he protested.
“I don’t think so,” I said. “I suspect you’re trying to deflect. I think you’re the one behind this, and behind or at least responsible for Missy and the kids being kidnapped and for Clay and Declan now being held by Garcia.”
“You’re out of your goddamned mind!” Palmer raged, balling his fists. “I asked you to come here to help me find her to prevent all of this.”
“Yeah,” I mocked, “but I don’t believe you. All the evidence points to you, Palmer. That includes what I found on your computer tonight. Tell me about the Pan American Relief Fund.”
His eyes went wide with shock, “You broke into my bank? How…?”
“I’m a resourceful lad,” I said. “Now give.”
“I don’t owe you any explanations,” Palmer said, folding his arms across his chest and glowering.
“Palmer,” I said coldly, getting to my feet and drawing my own weapon from my waistband, “I’m going to find out what I want to know one way or another. I’ll learn more when I find your ex-wife. However, that notwithstanding, you’re going to tell me. How you do that is up to you. You can volunteer the information or I can get it out of you the fun way. Your choice. Let’s go, Umberto.”
“Where do you think you’re going?” Miles raged.
I smiled at him, “you mean, where are the four of us going, don’t you?”
“What?” He stammered.
“As of now, you’re my prisoner, Palmer,” I said. “Umberto and I, and Lisa too I guess, are taking you back to our secret lair. There, you will divulge what you know or I’m gonna kick your ass around the block for drill. That clear enough?”
“You do this and you’re fired, Rincon!” Palmer declared in a desperate attempt to maintain control over the situation.
“Very well, señor,” Umberto said, drawing his own gun and leveling it at Palmer. “I’ll withdraw my men immediately.”
“See?” I asked Umberto as we made our way down the stairs. “Didn’t I promise you an exciting evening?”
He only sighed and shook his head, “Ay dios mio… what a mess.”
“Miles!” Karen called from the admin building doorway. She looked confused and alarmed. “What should I do?”
I didn’t let him answer, “Karen… I suggest you do nothing. Miles has some explaining to do. If all goes well, he’ll be back tomorrow or the next day.”
“I’ll call the authorities,” She threatened.
“Then so will I,” I stated. “I’ve already got enough evidence to present a case that your boyfriend is engaged in international espionage. However, all I really want is my friend and his son back. You start trouble and it’s only going to make things worse for everyone.”
She seemed nonplussed by that response. I didn’t think the marine biologist was a bad person. Just a woman who enjoyed her work and had developed an attraction for her boss. I hoped that she’d heed my words but couldn’t take the time to worry about it now.
“I don’t know about you guys,” I said to Lisa and Umberto as we ushered Miles into the Jeep, “but I can’t wait to get back. I’m bushed and feel the need for a mouth-watering adult beverage.”
“Te loco…” Umberto said with a chuckle.
“Why not let him ride with me?” Lisa asked.
“So you can spend the next hour tearing him a new poop shoot?” I asked. “Tempting, but I need him alive.”
She grunted, “Yeah… why even bother…”
“Might make you feel better… or who knows? Maybe you can kiss and make up.”
“This is really entertaining for you, huh?” She asked with folded arms.
“It does have that delectable Jerry Springer sort of flavor to it.”
“I hate you,” She said but there was a ghost of a smile on her lips.
“I know you do, biscuit buns, I know you do.”
She heaved a dramatic sigh, “You know, this isn’t easy for me, Scott. Do you have to make light of it?”
“Well… yeah.”
She actually laughed, “This is serious, dammit.”
“Party pooper,” I said and then more softly. “Are you okay?”
She seemed to sag a little, “No. This whole thing… well… it just sucks.”
I gave her a quick hug and climbed into the Jeep. Umberto cocked an eyebrow at Lisa but said nothing.
“Are you really pulling your men off the site?” She asked Umberto through my open window.
“I already sent a message to Ramon, the man who met us when we arrived,” Umberto stated as he started the engine. “All of my men are leaving immediately.”
“Damn,” I said brilliantly.
“I’m fired,” Umberto said with a shrug and a smile. “So to the hell with him.”
“Son of a bitch…” Lisa muttered darkly and turned to get in her own vehicle.
“Woo! Yeah…! Fuck that guy!” I shouted cheerfully, “its Milluh time!”
Chapter 24
Interlude: Clay
The ride from the compromised camp to the new location of the People’s Army of Liberation seemed like the longest of Clay’s life. Although it couldn’t have been more than a couple of hours, that time was spent in eating himself up with worry. Worry for his son and worry for the rest of his family, not to mention the friend who’d risked his own life to save them.
He wasn’t sure how they’d gotten him. Infiltration was one of his specialties, after all. Sure, he hadn’t served on active duty since his twenties, but the intense training of Force Recon was not something you easily forgot. Especially when you’d had more than one opportunity to put it into practice.
The undeniable truth was that he and Scott had a massive disadvantage in numbers. There were only two of them against fifty or more of these wannabe paramilitary rebels. That and the vulnerability presented by a good number of hostages. As soon as the attack began, a smart commander would’ve known why, or at least guessed.
It could’ve only been a rescue attempt. If it were the regular Nicaraguan Army, they’d have come in force, not sneaked in.
Lighting up that fuel tank had certainly exposed him and his position that was true. It was just bad luck. It was also bad luck that Declan had been caught along with himself
. Clay didn’t blame Scott for that, there wasn’t much choice in the matter. And since everyone had bugged out, Clay had to assume that Scott forced the issue and that he’d at least gotten Missy and the girls away.
He’d heard enough of the conversation from Garcia’s side once the men had grabbed him and taken his comm. He’d heard the man tell Scott that he had Declan and that Missy and the rest were free to go. Clay hoped that was true.
He’d not seen his son since he was hustled into the back of the deuce and a Half and blind folded. Then the truck and the other vehicles had driven for several hours before stopping again. Based on the feel of the roads and the inclination of the truck much of the time, Clay thought they might have gone into the mountains.
They’d left him in the back of the old Army truck for the rest of the night. They’d had the good grace to at least provide him with a bed roll and take the blind fold off. However, his ankles were bound as were his wrists and a guard was posted inside the truck with him.
So when daylight finally came and he was roused to wakefulness, Clay was momentarily confused. It took him a moment or two to get his bearings and realize what had happened and where he was. Part of him hoped that it’d all been a dream.
However, when he was cut loose and helped out of the truck, he knew it was no dream.
They were in another camp. This one even larger than the first. There were more tents, another prefab building and a motor pool complete with several fuel tankers. Off to one side there was a clearing that looked very much like an LZ for a helicopter, too.
He had been right, the new camp was indeed in the mountains, although more in the foothills. It was nestled into a small valley with steep hills on three sides. Interestingly, the valley opened to the east where it seemed to quickly descend toward a river and adjoining dense tropical jungle. There were several small boats down there, attached to a rather ramshackle wooden dock.
His two guards led him into the prefab corrugated steel building. Unlike the other camp, this one had been set up on a slab of concrete. Whatever that other site was, it was clear that this was the real center of operations. Based on the number of people milling about, this had to be the case. There were several hundred at least.