By edRogers
[Reviewed here on the novel’s publication day, October 6, 2018: “Coming soon to a Barnes & Noble store near you?”]
Charlie heard back from Agent Nowak later that night. Nowak and Morris would be coming to Nicaragua Friday afternoon, flying into Emerald Coast International Airport and then taking a D.E.A. helicopter on down to La Virgen, which was on the shore of Lake Nicaragua. Charlie was to call them upon his arrival.
Charlie planned to take a bus north and cross the border at Peñas Blancas, changing buses there to continue on to La Virgen. He would leave Puntarenas on Thursday to make damn sure he got to La Virgen on time. This was his last chance, and if he fucked it up everything he had gone through would have been for nothing.
He poured a drink, got a fresh yellow pad, and began to lay out his plan. Margot was wrong – he had always had a plan, he just wasn’t sure how to execute it. But now he was forced to go with what he had and hope for the best. He was confident he could get the agents on board by trading the knowledge of how Tai’s drugs were getting into the country, but he needed more than just getting them on board.
What he didn’t want to share with Margot or anyone else was the likely future killing of Alejandro Salas. Charlie hadn’t picked Alejandro to die, Howard’s friend had picked him. Setting Alejandro up was the payment Charlie would be seeking from the D.E.A.
He worked late into the night and fell asleep on the couch.
The bell from the gate woke Charlie up. He looked out and saw Margot. After pressing the button to open the gate, he started to make coffee.
Margot came into the house carrying a large bag and pressed the button to close the gate. She set the bag on the floor and said, “Here are the things you left over at the house. I think we should call it quits, Charlie –the affair and the war.”
Charlie pulled down two cups from the cupboard. “Sit down and have a cup of coffee.”
“No, Charlie, I didn’t come over to visit.”
“Maybe not, but now that you’re here have some coffee. I won’t bite and I’m not mad.”
“Okay, I’ll stay for one cup, then I must go. I have packing to do.”
He placed the coffee on the counter in front of the bar stool. “Margot, you and the others are welcome to do whatever you want, but I’m not quitting.”
“I was afraid of that when I got the call from Agent Nowak.”
“I don’t know why I’m surprised that he called you, but I never thought he would. What the hell did he want?”
“He wanted to know if I knew about your plan. I said I didn’t but suggested he hear you out.”
“Thanks for that. I’m meeting them on Friday.”
“Do you have a plan, or are you still winging it like before?”
“I’ve always had a plan; I just couldn’t share it with you or the others. It would’ve placed you all in too much danger. Now it’s just me and the D.E.A.”
“Charlie, if you had a plan you should have shared it with us, or with me at least. We could have chosen how much danger we wanted to take on, but, instead, we lost faith in you.”
“Margot, it’s better this way.”
She stood and pushed her cup away from the counter’s edge. “If things go bad for you, Charlie, call me – I will help you in any way I can. I owe you that much.”
He closed the gate and wondered whether they would ever get back together. He doubted it – too much water under the bridge.
Thursday morning found Charlie at Puntarenas’s large bus station, which was the junction for all transfers. Buses coming north, south, west, or east all stopped in Puntarenas. He caught the express bus to Peñas Blancas, a four-hour trip with one stop.
The bus was almost full, but he was lucky to find an outside seat next to a guy from Terrytown, Pennsylvania, who introduced himself as Jake Whitehead and said he was doing a border crossing in order to renew his visa.
While Charlie had hoped to sleep, Jake wanted to talk. “I sure am glad I ended up next to an American.”
“You know that Costa Rica is part of the Americas also.”
“I know, but it’s a hard habit to stop. What is your name anyway.”
“Charlie.”
“Glad to meet you, Charlie. I’m Jake Whitehead, as I said.”
Charlie shook hands and closed his eyes, hoping Jake would take the hint. “What do you do for a living, Charlie? I know you’re too young to be retired.” He laughed at his little joke.
“I work in environmental affairs.”
“Really, for the Costa Rican government?”
“No, more against them than with them. I have a meeting in Nicaragua and I’m dead tired. Please forgive me but I have to catch a wink or two.”
“Sure, sure, I’m sorry. Would you like me to wake you when we stop?”
Charlie leaned back and closed his eyes. “You do that.”
Charlie didn’t think he had fallen asleep but Jake was shaking his arm. He had that feeling you get after waking up from a dead sleep, the one where you wish you hadn’t taken the nap at all.
The two of them were the last ones off the bus and only had time to take a quick piss and grab a bag of chips. The next leg was without conversation, because Jake fell asleep halfway through his chips. Charlie caught the bag and put it in the pocket on the back of the seat in front of Jake.
Their stop at the border required them to disembark and walk through Customs. On the other side were three Nicaraguan buses going in different directions. Jake had gotten on one of the other buses by the time Charlie found the bus to La Virgen. He got on and found a seat close to the front. As the other passengers boarded, he noticed a man who seemed to avoid looking at him. Maybe this wasn’t that big of a thing but it did make him feel uneasy.
It was dark by the time they reached La Virgen. He flagged down a cab and asked the driver to take him to the closest gringo hotel. As the cab pulled away, Charlie saw the man who had avoided looking at him, and again the man turned away.
At the hotel, he ordered a hamburger to be brought to his room with two cold beers. With his belly full and the beers down he fell across the bed and slept, waking at seven the next morning. He showered, put the same clothes back on and went in search of coffee. A small soda across the street was just opening.
Charlie picked a seat and turned in time to see the man from the bus duck back into the hotel he was staying at. There was little doubt in Charlie’s mind that the guy was following him – but why? He kept an eye on the front of the hotel as he drank his coffee.
Charlie paid for the coffee and headed down the street. He wanted to see whether his friend from the bus was indeed following him or he was just being paranoid. He made a few turns and immediately after the last one he stepped into a doorway and waited.
In a few seconds, the man from the bus turned the corner. He was slightly overweight, about six inches shorter than Charlie, and wearing a suit that looked like it came from the Goodwill. Charlie reached out and grabbed the man’s arm. The next thing he knew he was flying through the air. He hit the concrete and the air rushed out of him.
When he finally opened his eyes, six or eight people were standing around him. He put out a hand and a friendly man with a big smiled pulled him up. The man from the bus was nowhere to be seen.
Charlie hobbled back to the hotel, where he bought a bottle of rum in the lobby. Back in his room, he opened the bottle and turned it up. His head hurt and his back hurt, not to mention his pride.
It was thirty minutes before the plane from the States with the D.E.A. guys was supposed to land. He ran a hot tub of water and climbed in. He had the bottle of rum beside the tub and had just picked it up when he heard the door to his room open.
Charlie hustled out of the tub and flattened himself against the wall behind the bathroom’s open door. Presently he saw extending past the edge of the door a gun with a silencer attached to the end. He struck downward with the rum bottle, knocking the gun out of the man’s hand and breaking the bottle and cutting the man’s hand. With the broken bottle as a weapon, Charlie stepped around the door and drove two jagged projections of broken glass deep into the throat of the man from the bus. They both fell to the floor with the man pulling at Charlie’s hand. It was over so fast Charlie didn’t have time to realize what he had done.
He stood up covered in blood. The bathroom looked like a scene from a horror movie. He took towels and tried to mop up the blood but there was far too much for the few towels he could find to handle.
He checked his watch and saw that the agents should be on their way. He called Nowak’s number, and Morris answered. “We’re on our way to the chopper now.”
“There has been a complication. Someone tried to kill me. He’s dead, lying in a pool of blood, in my bathroom.”
“Where are you?”
Charlie gave him the name of the hotel and the room number.
“Clean yourself up and get the hell out of there. Leave the key in the room. Once you’re out and safe, call me back.”
“What about the body?”
“We’ll have someone take care of all that. But there may be another shooter, you need to leave.”
| Copyright © 2018 by Ed Rogers |
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