Final Finesse

by Karna Small Bodman

  She didn’t want to look at her watch either. She had no idea how soon the team could get here. All she knew was that they had found Tripp and got him out of there. Joe told her they had to carry him. She didn’t know what that meant. She hoped it didn’t mean he was sick or injured. She knew that they hadn’t cut off one of his fingers. Joe had told her that as soon as he got back from the initial meeting. She had been so relieved, she almost cried.

  But now, his call had been quick and to the point. He had said they were maybe a half hour away, but probably a bit more since they had to carry Tripp and she should stall as long as possible. Then he had signed off. Now she had to keep this guy interested.

  “As I said, I love this new job. It means I’ll be coming up here … with you … every night now. Isn’t that nice?”

  “You will?” He scratched his chin and cocked his head to one side. “So, little lady, you’ll be my passenger from now on, huh?”

  “That’s right, big guy. Do you think you can handle that?”

  “Sure can.” He glanced back at the only other couple on the tram. Samantha looked back as well. The man had his arms around the woman, he was kissing her, completely oblivious of anyone else around them. The operator turned back to Samantha. “So where do you live? Do you live alone?”

  “Me? Uh … yes … very much alone. I came to the city looking for work and, well, you know times are tough. I went weeks with no job, but I finally found this one. Isn’t that great?” She had no idea how much longer she could keep this going. But she had to try.

  “So you’ll be coming up every night and going back at about the same time. Midnight. Huh?” he asked, now looking down at his watch. “Hey, it’s late. It’s 12:15. I gotta get back down. Come on. Get on. If you don’t get on now, you’ll have to spend the night on the mountain. And I don’t think you want to do that.”

  “Just a little farther. Is he getting too heavy for you?” Joe asked. “Here, I’ll take over.”

  “No, I got him. I think he might be coming around a bit,” the team member said.

  “That could help,” Joe said. “I think it’s just around this next bend. I’ll go on ahead and see if Samantha’s okay.” He ran down the path and around a corner and let out a gasp of relief when he saw the tram at the top of the hill. The operator was closing the doors. Joe ran faster and shouted. “Wait. We’re coming.” He saw Samantha standing off to the side. When she saw him, she rushed to the door and banged on it. The operator put on the brake, ambled over and opened the door.

  “Thought you said you were going to wait it out for your friends,” he said. “Course you’d have to camp out or something overnight. I told you that was a bad idea.”

  “They’re here now. See?” Samantha said, pointing to Joe who was still running toward them.

  “Oh, all right. But tell them to get a move on.”

  Joe careened up to the tram, pulled out a few bills from the packet in his bag and thrust them into the startled operator’s hand. “That’s for waiting. Thanks.”

  The driver stared at the money and grinned. “Guess this is my lucky night. First I meet a pretty lady, then you come along. Come on now, get on board. We’re heading down.”

  “You get on, Samantha,” Joe said, “I’ll be right there. I have a few other friends coming down the path.”

  Then she saw him. His head was hanging forward, his clothes were filthy and torn, his beard made him almost unrecognizable, but she knew it was Tripp. My God, it’s him. They’ve got him. But is he drugged? Is he sick? What’s wrong?

  They got Tripp to the door of the cable car and the operator shouted, “What’s the matter with him? Drunk or something?”

  “He just had a few too many,” Joe said, trying to sound nonchalant. “You know how it is on a weekend.”

  “Yeah. Had a few of those myself. Not allowed to drink on this job though.”

  “Appreciate that,” Joe said as he helped drag Tripp to a bench along the side. The other couple looked up, surprised by all the activity and moved farther back in the car. Samantha went over and sat beside Tripp. She put her hand on his cheek. His face was almost gray. “What’s the matter? He looks drugged.”

  “He is,” Joe whispered. “But don’t worry, he’ll come out of it. I’ll explain later.”

  The cable car lurched and swayed again as it started its descent. Samantha put her arm around Tripp’s shoulder and nudged his head so it rested on her shoulder. She looked around at the others. They were staring out the windows, giving her a moment alone. She didn’t know if Tripp could hear her, but she leaned close and whispered, “We’ve got you back now. You’re safe and … and … I love you.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  CARACAS –SUNDAY OVERNIGHT

  “Samantha? Am I dreaming or what?” Tripp said, opening his eyes and looking around the spacious hotel room. He was lying on a king size bed surrounded by Joe and the team who were all grinning and slapping each other on the back as Samantha held Tripp’s hand.

  “Welcome back, buddy,” Joe said. “Your head okay?”

  Tripp tried to sit up but then fell back on the down pillows. “Uh, a little shaky or something. What the hell happened? How did I get here? How did you …”

  Samantha was perched on the edge of the mattress. She pointed to the men arrayed around the bed and smiled. “Best rescue team in the world, I’d say.”

  “Last thing I knew I was chained to that god-awful metal bed, and the two thugs were arguing in the other room. Next thing I know I wake up and see the most beautiful angel in the galaxy.”

  “Yeah, well, it all worked just as we planned it,” Joe said with a note of triumph in his voice.

  Tripp gingerly raised himself up to a sitting position. “Got any water around here?”

  There was a bottle of water on the bedside table. Samantha screwed off the cap and handed it to him. He raised his head and took a gulp. “God that’s good. Had the worst rusty stuff up there. Thanks, honey.” He stared at her. “What are you doing here? I can’t believe you’re in Venezuela. We are still in Venezuela, right?”

  “Relax, I’ll explain everything later when we’re sure you’re okay,” she said. “Let’s just say that I had to do something to get you rescued. The whole government knew about the kidnapping, but you know we can’t rely on a bureaucracy in a case like this. So I remembered your work with Greyfield, I got hold of Joe, and, here we are.”

  “This is amazing. Positively amazing. When I saw Joe at the meeting with the goons, I could hardly believe it. Then I couldn’t figure out how he could be involved unless GeoGlobal had pulled some strings and contacted Greyfield. But that didn’t make any sense either. You must have been the catalyst.” He pulled her down and kissed her cheek. “Uh, sorry, I must smell awful. No shower in that place.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” she said with a big smile. “The important thing is that you’re here, and you’re okay. I don’t like the looks of that ankle though.”

  “We’ve got some salve and bandages and stuff in our rooms,” Dick said. “We can take care of that in a jiffy.”

  “That’d be great.” Tripp said. “Damn chain. They never took it off except when we hiked to that meeting.

  “Speaking of the meeting,” Joe said, “damn shame about the glasses.”

  “The glasses? Yeah. Eyeshade smashed them. He was the brains and the accountant of the group, if you could call him that. Said he didn’t trust anybody. He figured it was some kind of trick. And, of course, it was. But I got your message loud and clear.”

  “What message?” Samantha asked.

  “When Joe shook hands with me, he palmed a pill into my hand, and the last thing he said was that I should ‘take care and stay hydrated.’ I quickly put the pill in my pocket and when we got back to the hideout and I was alone, I looked at it. It was a white pill with the word CARE written in red. Not too hard to figure that one out. So that night, I took it with as much water as I could stand to drink. Then I waited. I
did hear the helo, but after that, I guess I blacked out. What did you use? The gas?”

  “Yeah. We developed a variant of chloroform with a chemical additive. Got it into the place using the usual pneumatic drill.”

  “Sweet!” Tripp said. “I guess the pill worked.”

  “Sure did,” the helo pilot said. “We circled and saw the images of those other two idiots. But of course, yours was brighter because of iridium based dye in the pill.”

  “What kind of pill?” Samantha asked. “You didn’t tell me about that.”

  “It’s kind of like the stuff they give you when you have a certain kind of MRI. As it works its way through the veins, it emits a measurable external glow, and we can pick that up with our thermal imaging equipment,” Dick explained.

  “Pretty basic stuff,” the pilot said. “At first I was worried that there were too many trees up there and we wouldn’t be able to see anything. But we lucked out when we found the clearing where you guys met. Then we just extended the radius out a ways.”

  “You are amazing,” Samantha said. “Now then, how about getting Tripp into a shower or something.”

  “Do I smell that bad?” Tripp joked.

  “Let’s just say you’ll feel better after you see the bathroom in this hotel,” Joe said.

  “Where are we anyway?” Tripp asked, easing his legs over the side of the bed and starting to stand up.

  “Centro Lido Hotel. We’re right in the financial district, not far from the GeoGlobal office. Reserved a special room for your return,” Joe explained.

  “Pretty cocky that you’d pull it off, right?” Tripp said with his subtle grin.

  “Never had a doubt,” Joe said. Tripp tried to stand up. Joe steadied him and let him stand still for a minute. “You think you can make it now, buddy?”

  “Yeah, I think so. Why don’t you guys go get some shut-eye. You deserve it after all of this.” He glanced at Samantha and added, “You could stay though. If you want to.”

  The team started to troop out of the room. “There’s shaving cream, razors, all the good stuff in there,” Joe said as he headed toward the door. “We’ll check in with you later. Maybe have a late breakfast or something. Whatever you want. By the way, on our way back, I called Victor.”

  “Aguilar? Was he in on this whole rescue thing?” Tripp asked. “I knew those guys had been contacting the company on the cell.”

  “Yeah. Well, it’s kind of complicated. But I’m sure Samantha will fill you in. Anyway, I called him as soon as we got off that cable car, told him we got you out and explained the location. So he’ll be working with whatever local law enforcement they think they can trust to go after the kidnappers. Shouldn’t be too hard to get them. They’re probably still passed out from the gas.”

  When the door closed, Samantha picked up a menu lying on the coffee table. “You’ve got to be starved. You look like you could use something decent to eat. They’ve got everything here. Even T-bones with Texas barbeque sauce,” she suggested with a smile. “They’ve got twenty-four-hour room service here. I can call while you’re in the shower.” She handed him the menu. “So what would you like?”

  He quickly scanned the list, looked up and said, “A steak, bottle of cabernet and you!”

  An hour and a half later, the room service cart with its gleaming white table cloth and sterling silver vase containing a single rose stood off to the side of the room. Two empty plates, an empty bottle of wine and two crystal water goblets sat on top. The wine glasses were on the bedside table as Tripp, freshly shaven with damp hair, pulled Samantha close to him. Her hair was damp as well since she had joined him in the shower. And one thing had led to another.

  Now she reached over for one of the wine glasses. “Another sip?”

  “Why do I need wine when I can taste you?” he said covering her mouth with his. She left the goblet on the table and put her arms around him as he probed her mouth and deepened the kiss. It was an intoxicating moment. Not because of all the wine, but because he was here with her. Here. Safe. And starting to make love to her. Again. But after all he had been through, she wanted to comfort him, hold him, and make love to him.

  He gazed at her and said, “I’ve been thinking about you non-stop for days. Ever since they chained me to the damn bed in that spider infested casita, all I could think about to keep my sanity was you. Always you,” he said, framing her face in his hands. “Now that you’re here, it seems like a dream, but one I don’t want to end. Come here, woman, let me show you how much I’ve missed you.”

  He slid one hand into her hair, still damp from the shower. He gently lifted several strands and let them slide through his fingers. “Beautiful,” he whispered. “That’s what you are.”

  “It’s beautiful that we’re finally together,” she murmured. And then they were.

  Morning sunlight streamed through the window as Samantha, clad in the hotel’s white terry cloth robe, stood combing her hair.

  Tripp came over and grabbed her, knocking the comb out of her hands. She started to giggle. “Don’t get started again. We’ve got to get dressed, get some breakfast and meet up with Joe over at GeoGlobal in a little while, remember?”

  “I can think of a lot of other things I’d rather do right now. But I guess you’re right. Wait a minute. What about your clothes? You just had that skirt and tee shirt from last night.”

  “We can stop at my hotel on the way, and I’ll change. No problem.”

  Tripp let her go, sauntered over and opened the closet. “Nice of someone to get me some new slacks and a shirt here.”

  “I think that when Joe called Victor and said he was going to pull off the rescue and had reserved this room for you, Victor had those things sent up. Hope they fit,” she said.

  Samantha reached for the TV remote and said, “I wonder what’s happening back home? I haven’t heard any newscasts for a while. There aren’t many channels, but there might be some updates somewhere.”

  “I heard TV shows when those idiots had me chained up,” Tripp said. “All they ever did was drink beer and watch soccer games. Well, along with speeches by this damn dictator down here. But every once in a while there was some CNN program that got through. See if you can find it.”

  She started to surf the channels. “Oh, here it is.”

  “What’s on?” Tripp asked, buttoning a shirt.

  “Look at this. It’s their morning talk show from Washington and, oh my God, they just said that Greg would be on in the next segment.”

  “Your boss?”

  “One and the same. Can you believe he’s on the air on New Year’s Eve?”

  “What’s new about that? He’s on the air all the time.”

  She sat down on the edge of the bed, turned up the volume and stared as three commercials rolled through. Finally, the news anchor introduced the director of White House Homeland Security.

  “Mr. Barnes. Welcome. Let’s get right to our top story. Can you tell our viewers if you have had any breakthroughs in the pipeline attacks?”

  “All of our agencies are working overtime, throughout the holidays, to solve this case of massive sabotage against the energy lifelines to the American people. That’s why I’m here on a holiday. To reassure your audience that this administration is doing everything in its power to find these perpetrators and bring them to justice.”

  “Oh jeez!” Samantha said. “He’s laying it on pretty thick today.”

  “Guess you didn’t write those talking points,” Tripp chimed in.

  “Hardly. Trouble is, I’ve really got to get back. This whole situation is causing huge problems, price hikes, hearings, and they don’t have a clue who’s doing it.” She looked back at the set. “Well, we’ll talk about that with Victor this morning … about getting back. But wait, look at Greg.”

  “Well, Mr. Barnes,” the interviewer said, “I’d like to move on to another issue if you don’t mind.”

  “Anything you’d like, but, of course, we are concentrating on na
tional security issues here.”

  “Yes, I know. However, I have a question for you of a more personal nature.”

  “Personal?” Samantha said. “They never ask White House people personal questions. I wonder what this is all about.” She focused on the screen as Tripp came to sit down next to her.

  “And so, Mr. Barnes, our investigative reporter has a story he’d like to share with our viewers. I now turn to Alijandro Rojas with the details. Please watch the screen, sir.”

  Samantha stared at the split screen where Greg was seated on the set on the left side and the reporter was doing his stand-up on the right. “We have new information about an incident that occurred in Georgetown last Wednesday night.” The camera showed the reporter standing on 33rd Street where several cars were parked along the road. “It was here on that night that an elderly man, a homeless man now identified as Shelby Jones, was walking behind a line of cars, parked just like these. The road was slick and he slipped and fell just as another car skidded on the ice and slammed into him. He was knocked down, and he died from internal injuries. What happened to the driver of that car? We have an eye witness who now says that the driver stopped, saw that Mr. Jones was injured, but he did not summon help. In fact, he left Mr. Jones to die in the gutter and quickly drove away. Who was that driver? The witness claims it was a member of the White House senior staff.”

  On the other half of the screen, Gregory Barnes stared dumbfounded at the monitor, his eyes wide with a look of pure fear. “Yes, that individual has been identified as the president’s Homeland Security director, Gregory Barnes.”

  The news anchor came back on full screen. “We realize it is quite unusual to make a charge of this type on the air, especially with the person involved right here on camera. However, this report just came in and you were here, Mr. Barnes. While we all recognize that any individual is innocent until proven guilty, you have an opportunity now, if you would care to respond.”