by Arthur Rawl
“Matthews filho … the son?”
“He has been told to stay in São Paulo by a trusted friend. I have been informed Sr. Watson has also given him the same instructions in hope of keeping the BrasTel deal out of the spotlight. I am quite certain by the time Sr. Watson and his son leave Globo news and the others who follow its lead will have badly disappointed Sr. Watson regarding any future for himself or his company in Brasil.”
Aranni rose from his chair, slowly he looked deeply into each of his comrades’ eyes searching for shadows of weakness. He started to speak but then remained silent as he slowly walked from the porch into the garden. As the darkness embraced him his voice trailed behind, “Comrades, the planning is over and battle is about to be joined. Once again for us there is nothing more but to watch and wait. Wait and kneel in prayer to almighty God.”
The garden filled with silence as one by one the remaining two emptied their coffee cups, crushed out their cigars and without appreciating the cool night air filled with the garden’s floral spice as they followed the dimly lit path to the garage elevator where an armed guard came to attention, saluted and pressed the down button. Within minutes the neighborhood’s deep silence was broken by heavy motors cranking open massive wooden doors followed by the whine of finely tuned European engines.
Just more than two miles away Carl stood looking out his apartment window into the same dark São Paulo sky wondering what tomorrow would bring. He was absolutely sure Sam was walking into a trap. He was equally sure in the end he would be blamed and thrown under the onrushing bus filled with Wall Street second guessers. And yes, he was certain his new Brazilian comrades would prove to be no more than very dangerous fair weather friends. Once again, he was alone … alone with his own thoughts and an overwhelming sense of foreboding he could not shake off.
At the same moment, Sam’s private twin engine G-5 lifted off from Teterboro Airport across the Hudson River from Manhattan entering a steep Southeast turn out over the never ending lights of northern New Jersey towards the coast and into the dark Atlantic sky. In less than ten hours he would be in Rio and then things would get straightened out. It wouldn’t be long before Skip would be on a home-bound plane and then he would personally make sure BrasTel was on track. The financing was in place and if he could, he would prepare the deal for closing before coming back to the States. Damned Englishman’s carelessness probably messed everything up but he would fix it. Even worse than damage to the deal, stupidly he wasn’t even looking out for Skip.
The pitch of the plane’s engines went from a high whine to a low drone as it leveled off at thirty-thousand feet on its flight path to a navigational point over the Amazon jungle where contact would be established with Rio flight control. Sam’s eyes closed as the plane left American airspace. Untroubled sleep swept over him … he was in control. Certainly, things would soon be the way they should have been from the beginning.
From her second-floor bedroom in the Senator’s mansion Alana looked to the sky and then out into the garden. Sleep had abandoned her days ago, leaving her alone at the window night after night. She watched the Senator leave his colleagues and disappear under the canopy of green transformed to black by the spirits of the night. She wondered if the Senator would ever let her see Carl again. It was impossible to ignore his wishes and continue to … to live as a Brasileira … live close to her family … just live. When he said no to her today it was followed by a warning not to ask again. She had never seen the cold hardness in his eyes before that had dominated his face as if to be sure she understood his words. She knew it was the look people feared most because it was usually followed by the recipient’s disappearance or worse.
He crossed the porch below her. She knew his routine well. First there would be one or two hours on the telephone followed by an hour writing careful entries in his journal. It would be early morning by the time his footsteps would be heard climbing the stairs. Only then would the guards relax their vigil just enough to have a cigarette and perhaps a coffee brought secretly from the kitchen by one of the younger night maids. Pain touched her flawless face twisting her hungry lips. At least someone would not be alone tonight.
Chapter 18
When Carl walked into his office the next morning television news reporters were excitedly describing the noisy crowd of several thousand chanting Cariocas that had descended on Rio’s Santos Dumont airport at seven in the morning turning the rush hour commute into a nightmare.
“Good morning. I was going to send José Carlos for you in about an hour. When I spoke with Rossi’s office this morning they said you got in late last night after having dinner with him.”
“Good morning Robin, what’s that all about?”
“I don’t know. It’s a good thing you came in by taxi. José Carlos has been in the office since early glued to the TV. He said their noise is something to do with ‘hands off Brazil’ and ‘hands off Brazilians’. He thinks some big foreign politician must be arriving in Rio this morning.”
“Have we heard from Sam?”
“Not directly; there’s an email with his itinerary and instructions to you on your desk. It says he’s coming into Rio’s downtown airport in less than an hour. I hope this mess is over before he lands. You know how he is about keeping to a schedule.”
“Nothing in this place moves that quickly. Send an email to New York telling them there is some sort of demonstration in downtown Rio and Sam should consider moving his landing to the international airport 20 miles north of the city.”
“I’m ahead of you. I sent his secretary an email from you about twenty minutes ago. She usually gets in about eight so she’ll have in time to send a message to him.”
“I guess that’s all we can do right now.”
“I know but I have a bad feeling and you know my bad feelings …”
“Robin, please, right now no news is no news so please don’t try to fill in the blanks.”
“I’ve had a bad feeling about this place for weeks. The thought of Sam walking into that mess really doesn’t help my feelings of security a damned bit.”
“I’ve told you not to worry. You’ll make out very well on this one. Have I ever let you down?”
“No … not yet but this could be the first time and I know you too well for BS.”
“I know you feel like the ground is moving under you. Things will come together and it will happen fast. Then we run for the airport and count our money.”
“Sure, that’s if Sam doesn’t throw us out first.”
“I’m expecting him to do just that. I’m planning on it and done some things that should be very good for us. Stop worrying.”
“It’s the ‘coulds, woulds and shoulds’ that worry me.”
“Look, it’s a picture of Skip on the TV! José Carlos, what are they saying?”
“They say some rich Yankee is coming to buy the murderer of a poor Brasilian girl out of jail. They say there is no justice for the poor. Then they say stop the Yankee.”
“Oh shit” Turning from the TV Robins face was turning white, “The reception committee is for Sam. I better send another email and try to stop him from going directly into Rio.”
“No, try to call the New York Office. If you can’t get anyone, call the hanger at Teterboro. I’ll use the Satellite phone and call Laser’s Security Officer. I’ve got a 24/7 number.” Then, after a few seconds of thought, “We’ve done what we can. You already sent an e-mail early enough to have reached him in plenty of time. Running in circles with more messages isn’t going to help.”
“But Carl …”
“That’s all we can do. Have José Carlos get some coffee please.”
“We’ve got to do something. Sam will have our asses.”
“Coffee please and see if you can get Pedro for me.”
“Fine, he’ll get coffee and I’m sending another email. I’m not throwing my career away. Sam will bury us if he walks into that damned mess.”
“I said not to worry. I’
ve taken care of us in the past and it will be no different this time.”
“You’ve got a streak going and you can be sure it’s going to end one day, maybe today. I don’t want to be around or even close when it does. So, if you don’t mind, I’ll try to cover my ass right now.”
“Do whatever you think you have to. I’ve got us covered. Don’t forget Pedro.”
“Look at that shit!” Robin’s hand shaking as she pointed to the screen. “Soldiers with machine guns, trucks full of them. There’s going to be a war.”
“Calm down, it’s just a show of force to keep things under control.”
“Just like Kent State, then people started dying.”
“What’s Kent State?”
“It’s a college in Ohio. During the anti-Vietnam war protest days in the sixties student protests were the thing to do on a lot of campuses. The Ohio’s Governor called out the National Guard for a show of force in order to head off a full blown campus riot at Kent State. The only problem was at that time the National Guard was nothing but a bunch of young kids trying to avoid going to Vietnam. They had no experience handling peaceful but very noisy protests. The Guard lined up opposite the protestors just like they’re doing on the TV right now and it wasn’t long before someone started shooting and the protesters started dying. One of those killed was my mother’s younger brother.”
“That’s not going to happen here. The Brazilian military is disciplined. They know how to handle crowds. During the years they ran the country there wasn’t anything like what you said happened in Ohio.”
“For our sake I wish I could believe you. If something happens to Sam …”
“What are you talking about?”
Tension pushing her voice higher, “Do you think I’m deaf and blind? I know enough about what’s going on to know this crowd in Rio didn’t just happen. It’s about BrasTel. Someone’s pulling the strings and we’re just puppets caught in the middle.”
“No Robin, slow down. Maybe I should have been more open with you. Don’t worry. I’ve positioned us on the side of the ones you say are pulling the strings. You’re right BrasTel is involved but it’s not the main event. It’s just a side show. You and I, Sam, we’re not in the deal that’s really in play. It’s too big, too big even for Sam’s imagination.”
“You never shut me out before. Why didn’t you tell me we changed sides?” Her voice tight, now cracking with fear, “You’re going to get us killed. I don’t want to die in this damned banana republic.”
“Calm down Robin. We’ll be out of here in a week and we’ll be taking a lot of future security with us. You’ll be alright, both of us will be. I’m certain of it.”
“The hell with you, I’ve got to get the phone.”
“… and don’t forget the coffee.”
Minutes later she was back in the office collapsing onto the sofa, “New York said Sam got your message. He said he was going into Rio and that couldn’t change on short notice because of State Department security arrangements but was sure things would be handled at the airport. He also said he would call you after he sees Skip.” Back on her feet, “You are to stay in the office for the next couple of hours.”
“Do you feel better now?”
“No dammit, go look at the TV, the mob is out of control. It’s now showing two limos trying to get out a side gate and everyone’s charging toward them. I hear gun fire. I’m sure of it.”
Carl stood frozen in his office doorway mesmerized by the ugly scene playing itself out on the TV. The first car was being surrounded. Someone threw a fire bomb at it and in a second the car was engulfed in flames. “Gasoline! My god, people are on fire. What happened to the picture? Robin, Jóse, fix it!”
José Carlos turned slowly from the TV, “She will not be able to. It is the censors. The television is not allowed to broadcast bad things.” A message flashed across the screen. The station announcing technical difficulties.
The office phone started ringing but nobody moved to answer it. It stopped and then immediately started ringing again. “I’ll get it Robin. You and José try other stations or the radio. Find out what’s going on.”
“Hello Pedro, it’s a bad time can I … oh you know. What, are you sure? Thank God. I’ll call you back. I’ll tell Robin and she’ll get word to New York.”
Carl ran the few yards to the front office, “The limos were decoys. Pedro got a call from Rio. He said Sam and the Under Secretary left the airport by helicopter, they’re alright. Two Brazilian military helicopters landed at the private terminal about half an hour ago and Pedro’s partner was put on board at once. When Sam’s plane landed it was directed to park a hundred feet from them and a military escort got Sam, the Under Secretary and their security team to the helicopters and safely airborne in two or three minutes.”
“Where were they going?”
“Rossi didn’t know. Probably a safe place to meet with ground transport and military guards who will take them to where Skip is being held.”
“I imagine the military is involved because of the Under Secretary. Neither country would want an incident.”
“That’s one Sam owes you even if he’ll never say so. The State Department escort was your idea wasn’t it?”
“I was the first one but Sam got the same advice from Washington. I’m sure that will be the source he remembers.”
The phone cut them off, “… its Rossi again.”
Taking the phone from Robin, “What have you heard Pedro?”
“Jesus just called. The helicopters went directly to the special prison where Sr. Skip is being held. He said the State Prosecutor was waiting for them. Jesus also told me he could not be sure yet but he thinks Sr. Watson will be offered some sort of deal that will allow Skip to leave the country as soon as today. The Under Secretary of State may have to assure the prosecutor that Sr. Skip will be made available for trial if it becomes necessary to bring charges. Naturally, Sam will have to make certain payments and post bond for his son. Again the Under Secretary will have to give assurances any payments once agreed will be made.”
“What about the police and the courts?”
“The courts are not involved at this point because no charges have been filed. The police situation as with other more routine matters will be managed by the State Prosecutor.”
“I’m sure Sam will put up whatever is necessary to get Skip out of prison and if at all possible, out of Brazil.”
“Sam will post the required money now but later he will probably have to walk away from it when the second part of the deal is structured. I have seen it happen just so in other VIP cases”.
“As long as they’re safe that’s his worry Pedro. Right now I have other things and other people to worry about.”
“I understand my friend. I’ll call you as soon as I hear anything more. Perhaps we should plan to meet at the end of the day.”
“That’s fine with me. We’ll talk later. Thank you and please thank Jesus when you can, Tchau.”
Robin leaned against the office doorframe, “What did I miss?”
“It feels too neat. Pedro’s partner thinks Sam may be able to get Skip on a plane out of Brazil today. The State Prosecutor was waiting when the helicopters landed at the prison. From the sound of it negotiations could already be underway.”
“Maybe the government is trying to avoid bad publicity and the problems that come with it.”
“That’s possible but Skip’s mess has already become too visible. Anyone with access to a TV knows the whole story and knowing Brazilians and their love of gossip everyone has been busy filling in the blanks with the worst they can imagine. If Sam buys Skip out of this one there will be an explosion from the left side of the political aisle that will certainly have an effect on the elections and who knows what else.”
“Isn’t that what Sam wants?”
“Certainly, but he wouldn’t play with Skip’s safety for anything. I don’t think this is his doing.”
Robin walked o
ver to the window and looked down at the late morning traffic creeping along Ave. Paulista, “Who cares who or what’s behind this. Skip was set up at least it certainly looks that way. If Sam can get him out it’s for the better.”
“Sure, but if Sam’s not behind Skip’s problems and the mess they caused then who is and why? Remember we’re in the middle of a touchy deal. The only thing I’m interested in right now is how all this affects the deal.”
“You told Pedro I’d keep New York up to date. I’ll call Sam’s assistant and tell her what’s going on and let her worry about being ready if Sam needs anything.”
Carl pulled open a desk draw and grabbed the satellite phone and its charger, “Robin, please see that this thing is fully charged. I have a feeling I might need it.”
After Robin left Carl started closing the drawer but the blue Tiffany bracelet box that had been behind the phone caught his attention. The drawer stopped moving while his thoughts went back to Santos Dumont and the woman who wasn’t Alana.
His hand settled gently on the box. One finger started stroking its baby blue surface as his thoughts drifted back to that weekend. Time stopped … the sounds from Ave. Paulista went silent. There was just her sitting beside him. Suddenly, with exquisite clarity he understood and was overcome by a painful empty feeling and the overwhelming need to fill the emptiness.