Читать книгу Hidden Agendas - Paul Boardman - Страница 13

The Director entered the conference room having been advised that two of his agents were already waiting. Part of his reasoning was good time management. The other part of his reasoning was power and arrogance. He liked it when others, especially type A personalities, waited for him.

The two senior agents scrambled to their feet but the Director waved them to sit back down and as always began the meeting without the usual niceties.

“I read your update. Barrens is killing time in Guadeloupe and Martinique. Harrison and Farris are in Colombia. Whitehorn reported that a buy has been arranged.”

“We heard that Farris refuses to use a satellite phone to contact Barrens,” said the younger of the two agents.

The Director grunted.

The second agent was ten years older than the first and had known the Director, or at least known of him, for fifteen years. “We are aware they made it into and out of Fernandez’ building. Naturally, we never saw Fernandez. We have no idea how he comes or goes. There is not a car in the underground parking area that doesn’t have windows tinted black. Our suspicions are that he enters from another building, connected underground and then goes up the elevator using his key to ensure the elevator never stops before his floor.”

“Can you install some kind of signal so that we know when it’s him in the elevator?”

“We thought of that. No joy. Everyone who uses that floor … roughly twenty or so … has a key. Fernandez is practically never in that building. We haven’t ever seen him go in or out.”

“Where are Harrison and Farris, now?”

The younger agent was not going to pass this opportunity to be noticed. “We have them in the air, between Bogotá and Cartagena, in a brand new Cessna that Farris’ wife just bought in Florida.”

The Director shuffled in his seat. This information, directly from these agents confirmed what he had been told by Dick Whitehorn. “Next. How much does Barrens know and how much will he guess?”

The older agent answered. “So far he doesn’t know anything. Farris is to make the buy. We set up the sale to bust the first level of importers into the States. He has no reason to suspect anything else. Yet!”

“He’ll figure it out pretty soon when we don’t nab the bad guys. This is the career building bust Barrens has been waiting for. He’ll be livid when it falls apart and he’ll be smart enough to figure out that something is wrong at this end.”

“We could fake the arrest at level one.”

“Too many people involved. Too much chance of a slip-up. Keep Barrens in the dark as long as possible. Cater to him. Make him think he is important. We’ll sideline him at the last second. Up until then, let him think that he and Whitehorn are heading this operation. Anything else?”

The Director stood and walked out the door. The two agents stood, expecting to say goodbye. The younger agent reached out his hand to shake the Director’s, but he was half a second too slow and the Director already had his back turned and was crossing the threshold.

As the door closed the older agent said to the younger man, “Don’t worry about it. If this plan works, you’ll be recognized. If it doesn’t, you’ll still be OK as long as you don’t personally screw-up.”

The view from the air was magnificent. Bogotá, being far inland, was separated by mountain ridge after mountain ridge, between it and Cartagena. The number of ridges was astounding, like the ripples on a beach except for the fact that these ripples had tall, sharp edges. The vegetation was dense, lush tropical rainforest everywhere, with occasional roads and villages appearing randomly and disappearing in the dense foliage almost immediately. At one thousand feet over the peaks, the small communities and farms were quaint and picturesque. They showed no sign of the poverty and corruption that they survived on. The military was visible, though. It maintained a strong presence on the highways.

“We can talk up here. Fill us in. What’s happened?” said Judy over the headsets that each person wore.

“This plane could have bugs in it,” cautioned Phil.

“No way! It’s brand new. Besides, Judy swept it for bugs with her dildo.” Linda grinned at Judy. “They won’t believe us until they see it.”

Judy dug into her purse and extracted what looked like a vibrator, packaged in a silver plastic carrying case with a pink lining. Indeed, the case had originally carried a vibrator. But when Judy flipped the switch, instead of vibrating, the little machine swept the area for electronic devices where Judy pointed.

“Cute, hunh? And believe me, no third world customs jerk would dare to ask me how it worked … or for a demo. I got it in Florida while Linda was buying the plane. The US officials might be harder to fool. Anyway! We are clean, so fess up …no secrets, no omissions.” Judy sat back in her chair acting like an eight year old, preparing for story time.

Farris looked at Phil, for help, but Phil was busily watching the scenery and refused to be baited by Michael’s stare.

“OK! We met Fernandez and offered to buy some coke.”

“How much?” asked Linda.

“Five million.”

“Five million! ” exclaimed Judy. “Are you nuts! Hey, didn’t you say Tom authorized five hundred thousand?”

Farris looked for Phil’s help but Phil was calmly surveying the land below, ignoring the battle that Farris was entering. “OK, everybody. Now listen up. Fernandez would have spotted the DEA limit like it was written in fluorescent orange paint. We are all undercover, so let’s start acting like it! Besides, I’ll front the money,” he added grudgingly.

“No, that won’t work. We agreed to partner-up on this. I can’t cut you a check for two point five, but I am good for five hundred,” said Phil.

“About a year ago I was worrying about the next car payment. I thought I got over that when we found my great aunt’s gold! Well it was fun having money for a while. Put me down for five, too,” said Judy.

“Well that puts the antes up to one and a half, counting the DEA. Mike and I will split the rest. I did agree to be part of this. Besides, I think Mike is probably right,” added Linda.

Phil and Michael sat in the back seat. Phil gave Farris a small nudge. Using his fingers he made a small plus sign and then held up one finger. Farris responded with a thumb raised ever so slightly. Phil had just begun a new career as an emerald smuggler. Down payment, one hundred thousand dollars.

Judy was impatient to hear more details. “So now that that’s settled, what else happened? Come on, this flight is going to take another two hours. Details, guys, details!”

Phil answered. “Fernandez is an asshole. Shaking his hand is like squeezing a dead fish. It’s limp and clammy. His meetings last about thirty seconds and he doesn’t say goodbye. He just drops you and gets back to his busy schedule.”

“So what was his office like? Nice, hunh.”

“The office was OK but not really special. Think of a normal office tower. Right off the elevator is a receptionist. Behind her is a glass door and a glass wall. It’s probably bullet proof glass, though. Behind the glass, what should be the office’s bull pen, is all living room. Couches, coffee tables, a pool table, a card table. Fernandez has a nice corner office with a glass and marble desk. He sits us down on a sofa but doesn’t bother to sit himself. No offer to have a coffee or anything half human. Thirty seconds of business and he goes back to his desk. Meeting ended. He picks up the files he was working on and the goon that frisked us before bringing us in, takes us back through the lobby and to a car waiting to take us back to the hotel. The funny part is that Fernandez was the only one working. The receptionist was filing her nails … figuratively speaking … and the goons were just doing goon stuff, like reading magazines, smoking, or talking.”

“That’s not his real office,” responded Farris. “He moves around. I think he spends a lot of time at his house in the hills, but he’s never seen in public. I was surprised he saw us at all. Of course I knew him, so that was probably why. But he was smaller when I knew him. Not much different though … he was always an asshole … but a smaller one. Probably he was curious to see me. You know, to see how much I’ve aged. He’s aged too. That’s for sure!”

Linda was taking it all in but staying very quiet. Judy looked over at her and thought how Linda hated any mention of Michael Farris’ past. Their marriage was almost ideal. They put up with each others quirks and even laughed about them. They were very much in love and could show it to each other in little ways. This was a very forward thinking couple. But try to go back before they met and Linda clamped shut like a steel vault. Click! Don’t even think about discussing Michael’s history.

And after knowing Farris for a year, Judy was fully prepared to agree with Linda’s comment on the first day they met. “Michael is the most secretive person you will ever meet.”

“So what happens now?” Judy asked. “You rent a car, drive over to Fernandez’ warehouse, fill out a purchase order, put it on your Master Card and wait for the shipping guys to come back from lunch to load you?”

How Judy could ask such absurd questions, in such a deadpan voice, was her personal, special talent. It was that characteristic that kept things light in heavy weather. The other three could not keep from smiling.

Finally, Farris answered. “Fernandez told us all to go back to Guadeloupe and wait for a week or two. He’ll organize the entire sale, meaning he’ll say where we pick up the merchandise and how we pay. This isn’t a small piece of business, even for him. The delivery might be made in open water … international water … and Fernandez won’t be there. A few years ago the money would have all been in cash. It still might be that way, but it might be by electronic transfer, too. Everything is high tech today!”

“How can you get that much cash, without sending up about a million red flags?” asked Judy. “Make that five million!”

“Victor has the cash, already. When we give the word, it arrives.”

“You had this all planned out in advance, didn’t you?” said Phil.

“Of course I did. It was part of the reason we all went back to Normans Cay. Did you think we were going back home for clean undees, before our little trip?” snapped Farris.

“OK, boys! Cool it. Phil, you know that Michael will control the logistics. Michael, you know damn well that Phil won’t put up with being kept in the dark. So if you want to fight, you’ll have to step outside to do it.” Linda could be a bit harsh at times but she did tend to keep everybody in line. What she didn’t expect was two hands reaching forward from the back seats and the two doors of the plane both opening, simultaneously. The rush of wind was like a breath of fresh air, which, in fact, it was, entering the cabin.

“That’s one hell of a view, straight down. You ready Phil,” asked Farris.

“On three,” Phil responded.

“On three both you idiots close the doors. That rush of air … for a second I thought we were going to crash! Both you guys should be certified and put in padded rooms!” burst out Judy.

For the next ten minutes everyone flew in silence. Finally Judy spoke up. “Linda’s right. If we are going to pull off this caper successfully we shouldn’t piss each other off. We all have our roles to play. But the script is for everyone to see.”

“Nice analogy. And how do you define your role, Jude?” asked Phil, sarcastically.

Judy refused to be baited. “I’m the Whiz Kid,” she said proudly. “I’m the technical support. My vibrator even sweeps for bugs. You would never be here without me. I’m indispensable!” Smiling to herself she sat back, ultimately content with herself and the role she had created, knowing full well that none of the others could duplicate it.

Another ten minutes passed in silence but it was just a more comfortable silence. Phil and Michael watched the scenery until Farris closed his eyes for a nap. Linda flew the plane, constantly checking gauges and fiddling with the controls.

“You like this baby, don’t you?” asked Phil, touching Linda’s shoulder.

“I love it! That new car smell just can’t cut it next to the smell of a new plane.”

“It wouldn’t have smelled so good if I’d tossed my cookies when the jerks in the back seats opened the doors,” said Judy. She turned back in her seat toward Phil. “Hey Sailor. Think you and me could handle Iron Pyrate on our own, for a few days. Say half way to Guadeloupe? We could stay close to shore and duck into harbor if bad weather were to approach.”

Iron Pyrate was eighty feet long. Even though it was rigged to be sailed with a short crew, it was not advisable to be caught out in bad weather short handed.

“I’m game, if it’s OK with Mike and Linda.”

Linda looked over her shoulder at her husband, snoring quietly. “It’s OK with him.”

The next day Phil and Judy motored out of Cartagena harbor and within two miles had already set full sail.

“Cartagena was the big town in the days of piracy. This is where the Spaniards loaded great quantities of gold and silver from all over South America. They would make a few more stops along the way, maybe in the islands, maybe Mexico, then head back to Cuba where everything was duly recorded by the King’s accountants, and finally home to Spain. Naturally the Limeys and the Frogs would try to steal the booty or capture the entire ship all in the name of their current king or queen. As well, there were a few independents who added an additional challenge.”

“And you just wish you could hop in a time machine and go back there, don’t you?” asked Judy.

“No. I’d want to put this whole boat into the time machine and take it back. You could come along and be my gun moll. But this boat! Put a couple of cannons on the bow and stern. I would rule! Do you have any idea how much faster this boat is than the old ships? Or how much more maneuverable? We could be Super Pirates!” laughed Phil.

“I’d like that. ‘Micro Wave Pirates’ with refrigeration and hot and cold running water and air conditioning. As your gun moll, would I have to keep your flint lock pistol loaded?”

“Naw, I’d just wear that for show. I’d keep a ‘Dirty Harry Special’, a forty-four magnum for regular business. Same goes for the cannons. Just for show. We could keep a gattling gun and a portable missile launcher for the real action. Think I’d look good dressed like a pirate? I always liked those shirts with the baggy sleeves. And a custom do-rag. When the fighting started, I would ask you to hold my parrot while I put my SAM rocket launcher up to my shoulder. Then I would take on the whole Spanish Armada, single handed.”

“You wouldn’t be a Captain. With modern weapons you would be a god! Do you really want that much power?” asked Judy, as if she was in the middle of a computer game.

“Sure, why not? But just for a few days. Then we would have to come back home and spend a bit of the gold we acquired.”

“Just a couple of quick raids to top up the coffers, hunh? OK, I’ll make a Time Machine my next project.”

“Good. Now that that’s settled how about a little help pulling up the fenders?”

“Aye, Aye Captain Do-Rag.”

Life aboard Iron Pyrate with Phil and Judy was different than it was with Phil and Farris. Each night, they pulled into harbor and spent the night tied up instead of sailing around the clock. It slowed the trip down but it was also wonderfully relaxing. Tactically, they had both agreed not to talk about the mission they had undertaken, but once, after rousing from a nap Phil said, “I can’t stop wondering what was in those files on Fernandez’ desk. Surely he can’t keep written records in his business.”

“I know what you mean. It’s been nagging at me, too. You said that Fernandez seemed so intent on working while his employees loafed around. Are you sure we’re up for this, Phil.”

Phil pondered for a moment before answering. “No. I’m not sure we are fully prepared. Not really. But I’m like the pig. I’m committed. It’s like having breakfast. Ham and eggs.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“The chicken is motivated, but the pig is committed. Hey, we each just committed a half million dollars.”

Judy groaned but stopped short. “Let’s be less committed than the pig. What do you think about Tom?”

“Tom is a good guy. I trust him. I have less faith in the people for whom he works but Tom, on a stand alone basis, is OK.”

“I’m not so sure about the logics of this deal,” said Judy.

“Explain.”

“So we end up making a buy. Big deal. The DEA can’t arrest Fernandez in his own country. What are they going to do? Convince the local constabulary to arrest him?”

“You’ve got a point. The DEA could arrest him in the States but not in Colombia.”

“So what that means is, the DEA wants to arrest the guys that first receive the contraband. Their under-cover guys already know who is going to make the buy. What if Fernandez thinks we set up the bust? Every bad-ass hit man in North America is going to be coming after us. That part worries me,” explained Judy.

“I’m sure Mike has something up his sleeve. He knows we have to get away clean, well before anyone makes an arrest. He hasn’t told me how we’ll do it, but I know he has some sort of a plan. He would be out of character if he didn’t.”

Bernie Wheeler had fielded over a hundred phone calls, congratulating him on his nomination to the board of Intracell. Furthermore his desk was covered with cards and letters. A few well wishers had sent flowers and gifts. Bernie reveled in it. He loved the prestige. That was his driving force. Some folks like the power, some like the money and some like the adulation of the fans. Bernie was hooked on fanfare.

That was the reason why he had a limo drive him to work. It was also the reason he wore two thousand dollar suits and went out to expensive restaurants for lunch. He reveled in the prestige. And the persona he had created for himself had paid dividends.

When Bernie completed his speech, which had been extremely well received, someone had called for a vote and amid laughter and congratulations, Bernie had been accepted by the board. It was a large board with twenty-seven members, made up of either old money or success stories, with a couple of academics. Bernie had never been in a room that contained so much …… he searched for a word ….. so much juice! He had looked around taking it all in, and his eyes fell on one member who appeared to be staring his way. They made eye contact and simultaneously, both men realized their connection to each other. There were no words spoken. Just a moment of deeper understanding, and then both men had looked away.

Now Bernie was impatient to end the congratulations and roll up his sleeves. He had work to do that had nothing to do with humbly saying thank you and accepting an invitation to another game of golf.

Finally he called his executive assistant and told her to hold all calls until tomorrow. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Ten seconds, that was all it took. He rocked forward, his feet touching the floor at the same time as his fingers hit the keyboard.

“Find out everything you can about Samuel Goldstein.” Send.

Bernie Wheeler already knew much of what his staff was going to discover. Samuel Goldstein was also a real estate magnate of the New York variety, whose climb to the top had roughly paralleled his own.

“Roughly paralleled, my ass! You mean paralleled! And Sammy, I saw it in your eyes. You didn’t do it alone, either!”

Then, while others worked on the profile of Samuel Goldstein, Bernie began to review the remainder of the list of board members. First he eliminated old money, then he eliminated the whiz kids. They were high tech gurus who had made their fortunes overnight, by taking their companies public. Then he eliminated the academics. The net result was two other possible candidates, besides Goldstein. Four hours later, he had promoted them to prime candidates.

Finally, exhausted and somewhat deflated, Bernie Wheeler kicked back and sipped on a bottle of water.

Eduardo, you have been a busy boy. I always thought I was alone. In a way I have to take my hat off to you. My scorecard shows you control twenty-five percent of the stock and with my appointment, fifteen percent of the board. And who knows, you might even have others waiting in the wings. So what’s your plan? You want to control Intracell? No, that’s too easy. You have a plan that is more devious, more sinister. This may be all new to me, but it’s been festering inside you for a long time.

The next meeting of the board is in two weeks. Budget approvals. I wonder if you are going to tell me how to vote. I guess we’ll see.

The phone call never came. Two years later Bernie Wheeler had never been told how to vote. That surprised him. At times it even made him doubt his own conspiracy theory, but he had always shoved those doubts aside. He had proof. Well, not quite proof. Irrefutable circumstantial evidence. Wow! Did that sound like bullshit or what? If he wasn’t careful he was going to buy into the irrefutable circumstantial evidence of Hare Krishna’s path to eternal bliss.

Bernie had experimented with his theory. Though philosophically he was usually in agreement with his other undeclared conspirators, he voted against them on several occasions, just to see what the outcome would be. Results …. Nothing. That was the only thing he didn’t understand.

Intracell seemed destined to expand. The latest nation-wide ad campaign was a big success and Intracell’s market share was increasing.

Bernie recalled his early meetings with Fernandez. The ones that took place in his crowded office over top of his mall. He had been given one mandate. Expand. He thought about the real estate empire he had engineered. During a game of golf, one of his associates had talked about a company he had invested in recently. It was a minor name-brand company in the high tech field that specialized in making screens for computers, high tech TVs and more important, miniature screens that were used in calculators, games, cell phones and hand held computers. Bernie began to research the company and having spent months studying the ramifications, proposed to the board that Intracell acquire the company. Bernie had previously worked out the manner of acquisition. The board agreed to study the proposal.

Over the years, Intracell had steadily repurchased some of its own stock, especially when the market had crashed in 2000. But the stock had never been retired. Some of that stock could now be used to fund the entire purchase of GT Monitor. Bernie thought the deal was brilliant because it required no outlay of cash. The board agreed.

The deal closed and Intracell now owned GT Monitor.