Stephen Leather - Breakout

‘The feeling’s mutual, Ricardo. I couldn’t have got Scouse out, let alone myself, without your help. And taking down some seriously evil people, well, that was just a very welcome bonus.’ He smiled, ‘Take good care of Fernández, won’t you?’

Ricardo laughed. ‘Don’t worry, he’s going to be playing a big part in La Paz’s new hotel development.’

Harper headed for the gates, saying a few goodbyes along the way, and once out of the prison, he went straight back to the hotel, ignoring the disapproving looks from the hotel staff and guests at the filthy rags he was wearing. He went to his room, and first checked the tells he had left to show if intruders had been searching it, but while Scouse had obviously been in to take the money and ticket that Harper had left him, nothing else had been disturbed and his fake documents, the rest of the money, the sat-phone he’d got from Standish from Risk Reduction, and the Colt .45 Lupa had obtained for him were still where he had left them.

He put the Colt on the bedside table and then called Scouse on the room phone. He was on the floor below Harper’s. Harper went down and knocked on his door. Scouse opened it almost immediately and grabbed Lex in a punishing bearhug. ‘I owe you, mate,’ said Scouse.

‘Damn right you do,’ said Harper. ‘But you’re out, that’s all that matters.’

Scouse was looking semi-human again. He looked like he’d already put on a few pounds, though that was scarcely surprising since, as he said to Harper, ‘To be honest, mate, I’ve not stopped eating since I got out of San Pedro.’ He’d had some temporary repairs to his teeth as well, though until he had them replaced with crowns, every time he looked in the mirror, the row of broken stumps would be a reminder of his time in San Pedro.

‘Right mate, we’re going to stay put here tonight but before first light tomorrow morning we’re going to head out of here,’ Harper told him. ‘I’m going to clean up, shower and get some shut-eye. This evening we’ll have something to eat and drink and then we’re getting out of La Paz before dawn. So don’t leave the hotel until I call you later on and if you must hit the bar downstairs, don’t get pissed, okay?’

Scouse gave him another brutal bearhug and Harper went back to his own room. He stripped off his stinking clothes and dumped them into a laundry bag, knotted the top and stashed it at the back of the wardrobe. He then showered, shaved, and stretched out on the bed to catch up on some sleep. In the early evening, he took another shower and put on some clean clothes, then picked up the sat phone and dialled the number that the Texan pilot, Randy, had given him. He left a message with the woman who answered the phone and within ten minutes Randy had called him back.

‘Lex? I wasn’t really expecting to hear from you again and certainly not so soon.’

‘Me neither, but shit happens and I need a flight out of La Paz tomorrow. Can do?’

‘Sure, if the price is right.’

‘Okay. Two passengers this time, pick up at the same place you dropped us off, as early as you can manage in the morning, and then fly us across the border. It doesn’t really matter which: Peru, Argentina or Chile.’

‘Not Brazil?’

‘No, that might not be the wisest move.’

‘Okay. Peru would probably be the best bet then. It’s a shorter hop and their border security and immigration/emigration procedures are a lot less stringent than Argentina or Chile, so if you were trying to exit from there without having a stamp to show you’d legally entered the country, Peru would be your best shot. I could drop you close to one of the regional airports, probably Juliaca, because they get a lot of tourist flights bringing Americans to gaze at Lake Titicaca, so yet another gringo won’t attract any particular attention.’

‘Perfect,’ Harper said. ‘Same price as last time?’

Randy laughed. ‘Not a chance in hell of that, I’m afraid. Sorry Lex, but for cross border flights, I charge at least treble the regular rates. There’s a lot of risk involved - cartels, customs and border patrols, DEA, yadda, yadda.’

‘So we’re talking what? A thousand dollars?’

Randy laughed again. ‘I guess math wasn’t your strong suit at school, right Lex? I charged you four hundred to fly up to La Paz from Santa Cruz. So treble that is twelve hundred bucks. And the fact that you want me to get you across the border rather than just taking a scheduled flight, makes me think that either the Bolivian authorities or the cartels - and they’re often pretty much the same thing - would like to get their hands on you. So allowing a little more for the extra risk involved in transporting fugitives across a national border, let’s say…’ He paused and exhaled through his teeth, as if pondering a fiendishly complex calculation.

‘I’ve got the back of an envelope here, if that would help,’ Harper said.

‘Nah, I got it,’ Randy said. ‘Including the extra fuel and a five buck penalty for the sarcasm, shall we say fifteen hundred bucks?’

‘Bloody hell, I could get a round the world flight for that.’

‘What can I say, Lex?’ Randy said, with a chuckle. ‘It’s a seller’s market.’

‘And don’t tell me, you’re just taking care of business, right?’

‘Right. So what d’you say? Of course, if it’s too much, you can always see if you can find someone else to fly you out of the country at five minutes notice…’

‘Nah, let’s do it,’ Harper said. ‘How early can you get to the pick up place?’

‘Flying over the Andes in the dark is not really recommended, so I’ll have to wait for daylight, but I can take off at dawn and be at the same strip, fifteen miles east of La Paz, refuelled and ready to go again by say, ten o’clock.’

‘Okay, see you there.’

Harper broke the connection and went to round up Scouse. Harper took him to the street café for some food and a couple of drinks. There was no sign of Lupa, and after a couple of hours, Harper gave up waiting for her, paid their bill and headed back to the hotel. ‘Set an alarm for five o’clock,’ he said to Scouse as they parted in the lobby, ‘because we need to be out of here before dawn.’

‘Sure, whatever,’ Scouse said.

Harper paid the hotel bill with cash, avoiding any delays in the morning that might merely be irritating but could also put them in danger. He then went up to his room and stretched out on the bed, planning to grab a few more hours’ sleep, before setting out before dawn, but a few minutes later there was a soft knock at the door.

He was wide awake in an instant. He picked up the Colt .45 from the bedside table and walked warily towards the door, standing to one side of it, in case the visitor was only waiting for him to speak before loosing off a few rounds through the door.

‘Who is it?’

‘Me.’

He opened the door. Lupa was standing there, wearing a silk shirt open almost to the waist and a very short skirt, and holding a bottle of champagne in one hand.

‘You don’t look much like a Chief Warden,’ Harper said, ‘and you won’t last long as one if you’re already sneaking off on your first night in the job.’

She gave him a smile that again set his blood pounding. ‘I’ve left Ricardo in charge and told the new guards that anyone who gets drunk or off his head on cocaine while he’s supposed to be on duty, will be back sleeping on the floor of the worst section of the prison by morning. Now the despedida - the farewell - is a Bolivian tradition, usually involving a table full of food and as much beer, Singani and perhaps cocaine, as you can take. But on this occasion, I’m hoping that a bottle of champagne will do instead.’ She paused. ‘So, aren’t you going to invite me in?’