Steve Martini - Guardian of Lies

“Yes, sir.”

“One other thing.” It was something that had been bothering Alim for some time now, one of those nagging loose ends. “Tell him that the digital camera he sent us from the agent Pike’s house was the wrong one. Tell him that according to the Russian’s daughter, the real camera may still have the original pictures in it, and the last time she saw it, it was at her house in San José. I want the camera and those pictures. Tell him not to contact us again until he has them. And here, copy this and send it to him.”

Alim unfolded a slip of paper from his pocket and handed it to the interpreter. It was the directions to Maricela Solaz’s house in San José. Alim had gotten this from Nitikin in preparation for sending her home, so that he could arrange to have the FARC make sure that the place was not under surveillance before she got there.

Harry and I hoof it toward the parking lot at the hospital and Harry’s car.

“Make sure whoever we hire as Katia’s doctor has hospital privileges here,” I tell him. “We want a treating physician who has full access to all the facilities. Somebody who can keep an eye on her. Also, call the nurses’ registry. Set up a private nurse around the clock, three shifts, so somebody is in the room with her at all times. That way, if the feds try to question her at least we’ll know about it.”

“That’s gonna be expensive,” says Harry.

“That’s all right. We’ll negotiate the bill with Rhytag when we finish with him.”

“I’ll see if I can get a female physician. Katia might communicate a little better,” says Harry, “and a nurse who can speak and write Spanish if I can find one. That way she can talk to her on a pad once she’s functioning again.”

“Good idea. My biggest regret is that we never had time to press her for information concerning her grandfather. I thought I’d have more time,” I tell him.

“Well, at least she’s not dead,” says Harry.

“True. But she is unavailable, at least for the moment. If she can’t help us, we can’t help her.”

“If she comes to tomorrow, she’s going to have one hell of a headache,” says Harry.

“Be sure and stop by to see her.” I pull the cell phone from the holster on my belt as we walk. I fish the phone’s small, flat battery from my suit-coat pocket.

“Where are you gonna be?” says Harry.

“Depending on what time the flight arrives, probably in Costa Rica.”

“What?”

“Gimme a second.”

Harry and I have been forced to pull the batteries from our cell phones. The things you learn from reading cases. We now know that the FBI can use cell phones as a remote bugging device. With a wiretap warrant they can order the service provider to switch on a phone without the owner’s knowledge, even if the power is turned off. They can activate the speaker on the phone and record private conversations, anything within earshot of the cell phone, yours or somebody else’s. They used the technique to take down the mob. What this means is that every one of us is constantly wearing a wire, whether we know it or not. The only protection is to jerk out the phone’s battery. What they say is true: you should always speak as if the world is listening.

“Who are you calling?”

“Herman. He should be home packing for his flight this evening.”

“You know you’re going to be broadcasting,” says Harry.

“I know.” I punch the quick dial for Herman’s cell.

It rings three times before the voice on the other end says, “Hello.”

“Herman. It’s Paul.”

“I know who it is. You need to talk, we should meet,” he says.

“That’s all right. Are you packed?”

He hesitates.

“Did you hear me?”

“Yeah, I heard you. I’m almost done,” he says.

“Good. Listen, I need some help. First call and book me a ticket on the flight with you to Costa Rica this evening. There’ll be two of us going now instead of just you. What time does the flight leave?”

There is silence on the other end. Harry is looking at me, bug eyed.

“Herman. Did you hear me?”

“Yeah, I heard you.” The edge to his voice tells me he’s pissed.

“What time?”

“Seven thirty. Is there anything more you need?” he says.

I make him tell me the airline and flight number over the phone. Then I tell him to meet us at the office as soon as possible and to bring his bags because he won’t be going back to his apartment. We have one quick errand to run before leaving for the airport. I hang up and pluck the battery from my phone.

“Okay, so what was that all about?” says Harry.

“I wanted to give Rhytag’s people the airline and the time so they wouldn’t miss the flight,” I tell him.

“I don’t get it.”

“They’re going to have to lift the gate so Herman and I can get out of the country, and they’re only going to do that if they think I’m gonna lead them to Nitikin. We’re only going to get one bite at this. After that, none of us is getting out of the country. You can bet on it,” I tell him.

I am assuming that the FBI already knows that Herman works for us. This would mean that they have a check on his passport number in the airline computers. The minute he shows his passport at the airline counter, the feds would get word as to where he’s going. They would call ahead and put a tail on him at the other end. Herman and I have already talked about this. He has with him an electronic device so he can locate and remove any tracking devices the government installs in his luggage or on his clothing. Knowing Herman, he will lose any tail in a nanosecond in the hurly-burly of a crowded street or market in downtown San José.

“You think they have a hold on your passport?”

“That’s my guess, either the feds, Templeton, or both. For the moment I’m not worried about Templeton. The last time I looked, Homeland Security and passport control belonged to the federal government.”

“If Templeton has a hold and finds out you’re gone, the Dwarf is gonna go supernova,” says Harry.

“Kiss him good-bye for me. You’re going to have to stay here and keep an eye on Katia. Make sure the feds don’t get to her. Until we know what’s going on and what her involvement may be, we’ve got to hold them at bay.”

“What do you mean ‘we’?” says Harry. “You’re gonna be gone.”

“You heard the doctor. There’s no sense in both of us sitting here holding her hand while Templeton hones all the rough edges off his case to kill her.”

At this point we are invested heavily in Katia’s case, both emotionally and financially. We are past the point of no return.

“The answers we need are in Costa Rica, on those photographs and somewhere in Colombia with her mother. One of us needs to go. The other needs to stay here and hold down the fort,” I tell him.

“Fine. You stay. I’ll go,” says Harry.

“You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because if you leave, and Templeton for some stupid reason decides to arrest me, who’s going to keep the feds away from Katia?”

I can tell by the look on Harry’s face that while he may not like my answer, he has nothing to counter it. “Right!” He fumes.

“Listen, I’ll be back in a week, a quick stop in Costa Rica to get the photographs. We’ll ditch Rhytag’s federal bodyguard and on to Colombia. Depending on what we find out and what I see on those photos, I may be able to leave Herman to finish up alone, in which case I’ll be back sooner.”

“In the meantime, I’ll be dodging pygmy darts from Templeton’s blowgun,” says Harry. “And I won’t even be able to complain to you because you’ll be in another hemisphere without a phone.”