I was sipping coffee, having showered and changed, when Emilio joined Florencia and I in the kitchen. She had been grilling me about Tamara, wanting to get the details about how we met. I suspect Emilio had only touched on the surface of it.
“We found the mechanic last night,” Emilio said, “we convinced him to be talkative.” I tried to ignore what that meant. I also decided I would play on the up and up with Emilio and his family. Only the truth and no false promises. “I was surprised to find out his payment came from America.” Emilio paused, “my enemies are here and lack foreign connections. I rather hope they haven’t internationalized their hatred.”
I waited for Emilio to continue. I didn’t want to insinuate something about the drug trade since he had never told me who his enemies were. He seemed the type to bend a law or two, but never break it out right. Maybe he didn’t bend enough when drug money was at stake.
“The man was foolish, thinking we Peruvians can’t trace wire transfers. Or maybe the account holder isn’t aware the funds were transferred. He could be a patsy.” Emilio was rubbing his chin as he thought out loud. “Either way, I have contacted your FBI, and they have agreed to look into it. They don’t like bombs on planes any more than we do.” Florencia handed Emilio a cup of coffee, and he sat down.
“Are you going to open the airport today?” I asked, sipping my coffee. If he didn’t, I hoped he would let me stay another day. I would have liked a tour of the grounds. It was almost like a botanical garden.
“It is already open,” Emilio replied, tipping his cup to me, “I have a plane waiting to take us to Ayacucho,” he smiled as he spoke, “for Tamara’s sake, it is under guard until we take off.” I laughed as if it was silly. Secretly I was deeply thankful.
“I’ll mention it to Tamara,” I said, tipping my cup to him.
“Next time you visit, you should bring her,” Florencia said, and Emilio quickly agreed. I had friends in high places. And they made damn good coffee.
The ride to the airport was interrupted by a call for Emilio. He changed to his Colonel’s voice, so I knew it was work. It was obvious it had to do with the bomb though my grasp of Spanish made it difficult to understand the one-way conversation. My face must have gone ghost white when I recognized a name I didn’t expect to hear. Emilio looked at me, and I could tell the pieces were quickly falling into place for him as well. He ended the call and switched to English as easily as breathing.
“Doug Finley is your partner?” Emilio asked. I nodded as the round peg found the round hole. “I am not his target, am I?” The bile in my stomach began to rise. The young boy, Mikhail’s brother, and pilot I never knew. Doug was trying to kill me.
“Fuck!” I yelled, slamming the side of my fist into my leg.
“I think he is after you, my friend,” Emilio said with some regret. The image of Mikhail’s brother, half his face missing flooded my mind. My hand was shaking in more anger they I had felt in years. He almost killed Tamara. “Why would he do such a thing?”
“Reciprocal life insurance,” I growled, “the bastard wants the business and the five million. God help me, I going to kill him first.” Emilio’s hand covered mine.
“No, my friend,” Emilio said calmly, “we are going to make sure he comes back to Peru. We have an extradition treaty with the U. S. and the crime was on our soil.”
“And Azerbaijani’s,” I added.
“That may be more problematic,” Emilio said, “I have evidence and from what you have told me, they do not, or do not wish to pursue it.”
“He killed people!” I said.
“Does it matter if he rots in my prison or theirs?” Emilio said. I saw a glimmer in his eye. Doug might have been after me, but Emilio was to be on the same plane. It was as personal to him as it was to me. “He will find Peru a very uncomfortable place.”
“There are fates worse than death,” I added grimly.
“See, you understand.” Emilio smiled. I again wondered what Emilio was capable of. When it came to Doug, I no longer cared. The worse, the better. Doug owed the world three lives and a year of my rehabilitation. “I have the mechanic’s testimony and the wire transfer, and you have the motive. I can make sure the courts are not forgiving.”
“I need to fly to Chicago,” I said. Emilio nodded.
++++++++++++++++++++++
I walked into F&B Imports a little disheveled from the two flights I took to get back to Chicago. Betty Crawford looked up from her desk in surprise and instantly stopped what she was doing.
“Mr. Bennett,” Betty said with excitement, “I didn’t know you were coming in this morning. I thought you were in Peru.” Betty ran the place. She was a single mother with the last of three kids just entering high school. She has worked with us for over seven years. Every company has that key employee, the one that could only be replaced if you hired three other people. Betty was our irreplaceable.
“Good morning Betty,” I said, my smile defying my intent, “is Doug in?”
“Yes, he came in early,” Betty replied, “I heard you were getting married. The girl you crashed with.” A dreamy look took over her face as she continued. “That’s so romantic.” I didn’t want to quash her dreams, so I let her go on believing the time on the mountain was more like a vacation.
“The heart wants what the heart wants,” I said with a smile, “you’ll have to meet Tamara one of these days.”
“I look forward to it,” Betty said honestly.
“I need to have a private talk with Doug,” I said, losing my smile, “you may want to take a break. Maybe refresh that cup of coffee.” I watched Betty’s face change as she began to realize I wasn’t happy.
“Is there a problem, Mr. Bennett?”
“Yes,” I said, remaining calm, “and you don’t want to be part of it.”
“Is this something to do with the missing money?” Betty asked, her eyes darting to her desk and back, “I’m sure it’s just an error. I’m going over the books again.”
“How much is missing?” I asked as the new revelation widened my eyes. Betty became hesitant.
“Mr. Finley didn’t tell you?”
“Mr. Finley has not been forthcoming lately,” I said, trying not to make it sound as ominous as it felt.
“A little over 35 thousand,” Betty almost stuttered, “but I’m sure it is just a clerical error. I’ve made some mistake; I just have to find it.” I could almost feel Doug’s greed from where I stood. Emilio never told me how much the mechanic was paid. I wondered if Betty had just told me what my life was worth.
“Leave it for now,” I said, forcing a smile on my face, “I’m sure we’ll figure it out. Why don’t you get a cup of coffee and let me discuss it with Doug.”
“Mr. Bennett, I don’t want to be the cause…”
“Betty, this has nothing to do with you,” I interrupted, “and I don’t think you made an error.” Betty’s eyes widened as the implications crossed her mind. “Please, you don’t want to be here right now,” I added, indicating the door with my eyes. Betty rose, hesitantly grabbed her coffee cup, then headed out the door in silence.
I took a deep breath, steeled my resolve, and entered Doug’s office without knocking.
“Jonathan!” Doug exclaimed. My entrance had startled him greatly. That I was alive probably had him pissing his pants. I kept a false smile on my face as I approached his desk.
“Decided to return early,” I said, holding out my hand as I neared. Doug rose to shake my hand. His eyes still twitching in surprise. When I approached close enough, I retracted my hand and thrust my fist into his face. There was a mountain of anger behind that sucker punch. I had no desire that the fight be fair. I could hear the cartilage in his nose collapse as my knuckles tried to find the back of his skull. His knees buckled as his arms flailed upward.
“That’s for a boy whose name I don’t even know,” I yelled. Images of the child flying from Tamara’s arms fueled more rage. I drove the next punch into Doug’s unprotected stomach, just below the ribs. I could hear the air forced from his lungs. Doug dropped to his knees gasping for air.
“A pilot, someone you didn’t even know,” I screamed as I brought my fist around with everything I had, catching him in his ear and driving him to the ground.
“Mikhail’s brother,” I added to the list as Doug withered on the floor. The thought of Tamara dead on a mountainside entered my mind. I could feel myself lose it as began kicking Doug’s prone body. I had an insane desire to see him suffer unimaginable pain.
“Mr. Bennett!” Betty screamed. I stopped mid-kick. Doug was motionless at my feet, not even moaning anymore. My heart was beating so hard; I wasn’t even sure it wouldn’t burst. I turned to Betty with unbidden tears in my eyes.
“He put a bomb on my plane,” I stammered, “he killed three people trying to get to me.”
“Oh God!” Betty said, covering her mouth with her hand. She started backing away as if I were insane. At that moment, I believed I was. I moved to Doug’s desk and sat heavily in the chair.
Two men in blue windbreakers appeared behind Betty. The jackets had a gold image of a badge over the left breast.
“Mr. Doug Finley?” the man on the right asked. I sighed and pointed to the Doug on the ground next to the desk. The two men moved quickly once they noticed Doug’s prone form.
“Please move over there, Sir,” One of the men said, pointing to the far corner of the office. I rose and moved as ordered, my heart finally starting to slow.
“What’s going on?” Betty cried. She was an emotional wreck. I would have preferred she would have stayed gone for a few more minutes.
“What is your name?” The taller of the two men asked me as his partner checked on the condition of Doug.
“Jonathan Bennett?” I replied, “the one he tried to kill.” I pointed at Doug.
“He’s alive,” the other man said, “we’re going to need an ambulance.”
“I’m agent Moretti, U. S. Marshal’s office,” the taller man said, “we have a warrant for Mr. Finley’s arrest.” He was informing Betty as well as me. Betty was in shock, leaning against the door as the scene unfolded. “Do you mind telling me why he is in this condition?” I took a shallow breath and lied.
“I confronted him about a bomb on my plane,” I answered, forcing my body to relax, “he came at me, and I defended myself.” Moretti nodded as his partner handcuffed the unconscious Doug.
“Do you think his explanation of events will differ from yours?” Moretti asked. His partner rose from Doug and retrieved a handheld radio from his hips as he walked out of the room.
“Probably,” I admitted, “but he kills people. I suspect he lies as well.” I was surprised on how easy it was to wrap my crime, justified as I thought it was, in a web of deceit. I would have made a good criminal. I could hear the other agent requesting an ambulance over the radio. Betty was still shaking near the door.