After several hours of touring La Paz, Jan had snapped hundreds of photos. She loved the people and the diversity. Seeing a group of kids on the side of the road, she gestured for the driver to pull over so she could interact with them. She got out of the car and walked down the street with the driver walking behind her, on guard. Even he had to smile when she knelt down to take photos of the children.
At that moment, a young pickpocket noticed that Jan was distracted just long enough for him to circle around one of her camera bags on the ground. The minute her back was turned, he snatched a bag and ran. “You little thief,” Jan yelled.
She immediately took off after him, weaving through a crowd of people. He was small and took every advantage to dodge her. Jan stayed on his tail until he disappeared around a corner into an oncoming melee; a crowd of people fleeing towards her with panicked looks on their faces. She was stunned and motionless for a moment, but nearby gunfire and hysterical screams startled her back into action. “Holy shit!” Jan screamed in fear.
She reversed direction and fled frightened for her life back to the car. The driver waved her into the back seat. Before she had a chance to close the door, he immediately accelerated and screeched away from the scene.
“What the hell is happening?” Jan asked.
“The leftists want to overthrow President Banzar. Instead of elections, we have spontaneous revolutions. I think we’re in the beginning of one right now.”
That was not great news. Jan couldn’t believe her stroke of bad luck; trying to score her first cocaine deal in the middle of a coup d’état. “Please take me to the government office where Moises works. I don’t want to get stuck in this riot,” she implored.
Jan looked into her purse and other camera bag to discover that she was $500 short of the money needed for her first cocaine purchase. She had purposely split her cash between the three bags just in case one of them was lost or stolen. Luckily, the strategy worked, though the amount of coke she could buy was now diminished.
After being dropped off in front of the Ministry of Interior building, she got caught up in the pandemonium outside. People were scurrying in and out of the entrance which was surrounded by military police and tanks. Once inside, Jan dodged the government employees dashing down the hallways from office to office carrying important documents. She asked someone to direct her to Moises’s office, which was located on the second floor.
Jan finally found him. His face was haggard and his usually well-groomed hair was tousled, looking as if he had been running his hands through it all morning. He appeared very worried.
“Moises, I’m so glad you’re all right. I didn’t realize this was such a dangerous time for your country,” she told him.
“There are rumors that President Banzar might resign. And we have reports that rioters and looters are being shot by the military police.”
“I know. I already witnessed the violence in the streets,” Jan responded.
This frightening information confirmed Jan’s worst fears, but she did her best to play it cool. She understood that Banzar wasn’t the only one who could be out of office in the next few days. Three-quarters of the panic in the government offices was attributable to the fact that nobody knew if they were still going to have a job.
It was the domino theory of political administrations; when the top man fell, his ministers, aides-de-camp, and appointees all fell with him. This was the state of mind that Jan found Moises and regretted putting him through additional stress and hassles when he had so many of his own.
“Maybe this isn’t the best time to do this deal,” Jan suggested.
“I’ve already made arrangements. It would be worse for me if we didn’t meet my contact.”
Jan nodded that she understood.
“Today’s chaos actually helps us. It’s a great cover since nobody will know I’m gone. Let’s go,” Moises implored.
“If you say so, I trust your judgement,” she replied with caution.
She followed him as they escaped the disorder and exited the building from the rear to a waiting government car. Moises told the driver where to take them as they climbed in. He rolled up the middle window separating them from the driver to have a more private conversation.
“All the cocaine trade in La Paz is handled by the Bolivian mafia and I arranged a meeting with one of them. It’s not exactly ethical behavior for a political representative to be dealing in the coke trade, but everybody does it discreetly. That’s the only way we can supplement our low wages. There’s so much of this drug in our country that people use it for currency,” Moises revealed.
“I don‘t have a problem with it. You gotta do what you gotta do. That’s exactly why I’m here,” Jan concurred.
The car finally came to a stop at the prearranged location outside of La Paz. Unfortunately, there was pandemonium on the streets there as well.
“This is where I told my contact to meet us, but that was before the riots,” Moises explained.
“Do you think he’s still coming?” Jan asked
“We’ll soon find out. Do you have the $1,500? Moises queried.
“Not exactly.”
This isn’t good news for Moises. “What does that mean?” he inquired.
Before Jan could say anything, the door opened and a well-dressed courier entered the car. “Moises, let’s get this done quickly. I don’t like what’s happening in the streets,” the courier insisted.
Moises nodded and said nothing as the courier handed him his thin, black leather briefcase. He promptly opened it to discover a handgun on top of the product. Moises tilted his head toward Jan and then turned back to the courier. “It isn’t for me. It’s for the señorita.”
The courier glanced at Jan, looking her over. He was clearly unimpressed.
“It’s 500 grams for $1,500,” the courier demanded.
“I….I don’t have $1500,” Jan revealed.
“What?” the courier responded.
She gulped hard before reaching for her purse. “I was robbed on the way here before the violence began. The thief took some of my money.” It was clear the courier didn’t believe her.
“Now, I only have a $1,000. That’s what I can pay,” Jan replied.
“It doesn’t matter what you can pay. The price for this is $1,500,” the courier repeated adamantly.
“Then just give me whatever $1,000 will buy. Break it up and sell me part of it. Can we still make a deal?”
The courier laughed. “You crazy gringa. Do I look like I carry a scale on me?”
Jan looked to Moises for support and slid closer to him in a protective gesture before he turned to the courier. “Surely we can work something out. If you give her the package, I’ll write you a check for the difference,” Moises suggested.
“What do you mean you’ll give me a check? Do I look like a banker? How could you come here without all the money? I don’t believe this,” the courier complained.
“Please, do me this favor. You know I work for the government, so the check is good. I just found out she didn’t have all the money because of the robbery. This is the only chance she has to make a deal before leaving La Paz,” Moises explained.
Jan listened intently, trying not to appear as embarrassed as she felt.
“I’m carrying this for someone else. I can’t go back with less than $1.500 dollars. What other kind of deal can you offer me?” the courier queried.
“Whatever you want; a favor for a favor. Please make an exception for her,” Moises offered.
The courier glanced between them as he deliberated. Outside the car, a tank rolled slowly by and soldiers marched past them. One military officer knocked on the tinted window so forcefully that they all jumped. The courier quickly closed the briefcase before Moises rolled down the window. “Who are you?” the officer asked.
Moises held his h
ands up before motioning to reach into his pocket. The military officer nodded, so Moises withdrew his credentials, handing them over for inspection.
“You should get back to the city. You’re not safe here,” the officer told them as he handed back Moises’ paperwork.
The military officer glanced around the car, his gaze lingering on the courier. At that moment, someone screamed behind him. There was another gunshot, so loud that it made everybody jump again. “Now!” the officer demanded.
Moises nodded. “Of course. We’ll leave at once.” The officer turned away and proceeded onward. He turned toward the courier. “What do you say? Do we have a deal?”
“Today is your lucky day. I’ll accept the check. But if I can’t cash it, you’ll see me again with my compadres,” the courier warned.
“I swear the check is good. Who should I make it out to?” Moises requested.
This was the ultimate insulting question. The courier just shook his head. “Cash. And I’ll take you up on that favor you offered in the near future,” the courier reminded him.
Several tense seconds passed as Moises wrote out the check and gave it to him. At the same time, Jan pulled cash from her purse, counted it and discreetly handed over the payment. The cocaine package was exchanged into her possession.
“Muchísimas gracias. I really appreciate it,” Jan thanked the courier.
“My boss will never believe this story,” the courier replied.
From somewhere nearby, there were more gunshots and screams. Finally the courier exited when he felt it was safe and stalked away directly to the bank. Moises was shaken and a little annoyed with Jan. “I beg you, please, the next time you come to Bolivia, make sure you bring enough money,” he insisted.
Jan stuffed the cocaine in her purse. “I’m sorry I put you in that position, Moises. What kind of favor do you think he wants?
“Maybe a lucrative government contract for his boss.”
Jan wrote out a check to Moises and handed it to him. “This is from my Swiss bank account to cover the check you wrote for me.”
“Dealing with cocaine dealers is dangerous business, not a game,” Moises warned.
“Lesson learned and you played it well.”
“But a revolution is even more dangerous. Many innocent people die,” Moises added.
“That’s all the more reason for me to return to Ibiza.”
“I was hoping you could stay longer, but I understand.”
“Is there some way I can return a favor to you for everything you’ve done for me?” Jan asked.
“Since it’s not safe to return to my office, let’s go back to your hotel and unwind from this chaotic day,” Moises suggested.
“I agree. I think the hotel is probably the most secure place in the city right now,” Jan answered.
Suddenly, they heard shouting from a nearby crowd that was taunting the police and soldiers by throwing rocks and bottles. Down the street, demonstrators smashed windows of businesses and turned over cars, setting them on fire. Finally, the police began shooting the protestors, and bloodied bodies of the dead and injured were scattered everywhere in the street. The gunfire was deafening.
Moises rolled down the center window and ordered the driver to immediately flee the scene for their own safety. The driver screeched away from the curb and navigated the streets through La Paz to avoid the pockets of violence and angry mobs. They saw smoke rising in the distance and ambulances rushing to hospitals with the casualties.
After arriving safely at the hotel, Jan and Moises headed to the bar to recover from the insanity outside. The whole situation was surreal, but they tried to make the best of a bad situation. Hopefully, the demonstrators would not move to the section of La Paz where the hotel was located.
They ordered a bottle of champagne, finished it quickly, and decided to retire to her room. By the time they reached the elevator, both were feeling a little tipsy and very amorous. Moises and Jan stumbled along the hallway until they reached her door. She attempted to search for the room key in her purse, now stuffed with the package of cocaine. Before she could find it, Moises pulled her into his arms and kissed her passionately. He couldn’t control his emotions any longer and Jan willingly melted into his embrace.
After a few bumbling attempts to put the key in the lock between kisses, they finally entered the room, falling onto the bed. Jan stripped off her dress, then unbuttoned Moises’ shirt so she could move her hand slowly down his chest to his crotch and feel his erection. She ran her tongue slowly from his lips down to his navel increasing his sexual arousal. They finally got naked and slipped under the sheets, spending a lusty night together.
In the morning, they lay cuddled together in bed, knowing Jan’s visit was nearing an end. “You’re a unique woman. I just wish you weren’t leaving so soon,” Moises lamented.
“I promise I’ll return and we can take up where we left off,” Jan fibbed.
“In the short time we’ve been together, I’ve become very fond of you,” he admitted.
“It was an instant attraction the moment I saw you on the elevator at our hotel in Asunción. Not only are you handsome and charming, you’re a true caballero (gentleman),” Jan said to stroke his ego.
She wanted their last night together to be a memorable one, especially for Moises. It was the least she could do to show her appreciation for all that he had done for her. In the beginning, Jan truly had been enamored with Moises. But she wasn’t interested in a long-distance relationship at this time in her life. Most important, this was a business trip, not a romantic getaway. Her job was far from over; needing to prepare for the FIRST DRUG SMUGGLE and finally to sell the contraband.
Moises quickly dressed, but was reluctant to leave. “I’ll miss you niñita,” he said sadly.
“And I’ll miss you as well. Stay safe. Hopefully the violence has died down and you’ll still have a job.”
“I’ll be fine. There are so many brutal, anti-government protests in this country that we just accept them as normal,” he responded.
“I’m not used to this kind of turmoil. I’ll be glad to get out of here in case things get worse.”
They embraced for the last time, but Moises didn’t want to let her go. Jan finally gave him a long, passionate French kiss to make him feel better. They promised to stay in touch and plan for her next trip to Bolivia, but actually, Jan had no intention of doing this. She knew this would be their last time together, only agreeing to return as a way to expedite his departure from her room.
Jan was totally focused and disciplined about the purpose of the trip and nothing was going to distract her from that goal. She had invested all her money in this endeavor, so failure was not an option. Moises was never the objective, only the cocaine. And she was still a half kilo short.
Moises finally walked out the door. Jan stood still for a moment, relishing the memories of their evening together; even shed a tear. It was hard to move on from that beautiful experience. But she knew she had to get back to work, that she was on the clock now for preparations to leave.
She called the airport to schedule a flight out of La Paz the next day, with an hour layover in Santa Cruz. She wanted to reconnect with Papi, even though she had no money to buy more coke. Jan was thinking several months ahead. She wanted to reinforce her friendship with the Fat Man, since she wasn’t going to deal with Moises any more.
After dressing, she reached for her purse to look for the piece of paper with Papi’s phone number. It was tucked under the package of cocaine she had scored the day before. Jan dialed his number, hoping he would answer.
“Bueno,” Papi answered
“¿Habla Papi? Is this Papi speaking?”
“Sí. ¿Quién habla? Yes, who is this?”
“Your new American friend. I’m flying into Santa Cruz for an hour layover tomorrow afternoon at 3:00 and wanted to m
eet with you. Is that possible?”
“Claro. Of course, I look forward to seeing you again,” Papi responded.
“Meet me at the airport,” Jan requested.
“Sí, Chiquita. Hasta mañana. See you tomorrow.”
With the weight of her concerns lifted, the coke purchase completed, and the success of her mission nearly assured, there was only one more task to complete; packaging the cocaine and getting it through customs in Madrid.
During the previous five years, Jan had traveled extensively between countries and was familiar with customs procedures in a number of them, especially those in Spain. She used this experience to her advantage.
Jan had noticed that customs agents in Spain were reluctant to search through any suitcases, baggage, or belongings that contained women’s private goods. Cases packed with underwear, sanitary napkins, or cosmetics were generally given a quick glance and passed unceremoniously. She wasn’t exactly sure why this happened, but figured it had something to do with Latin machismo. It was unseemly for a man to probe too deeply among a woman’s private belongings. Perhaps they were afraid of being accused of unusual interest in female items; maybe a little perverted. Therefore, she had her cosmetic case customized specifically for this trip.
In the years before 1975, American Tourister luggage manufactured a ladies’ cosmetic case that was perfect for the would-be smuggler. As a part of its design was a thick, soft bottom covered with vinyl. This vinyl covering could be easily lifted and replaced when the case was empty. Cocaine could be hidden under it virtually undetectable. Once the case was filled with cosmetics, only the most persistent customs inspector could detect that anything was amiss.
One of the first tests that a customs official did was to slide his fingers along the inner and outer surfaces of a suitcase. If they didn’t meet, or the lining seemed much too thick, you would have been discovered. The American Tourister case was thickly padded naturally, making this test particularly ineffective. At the request of the United States government (and specifically for this reason), American Tourister redesigned its cosmetic cases and post-1975 bags no longer had this characteristic.
Rendezvous With the Fat Man Page 5