he
wanted. Anytime. Anywhere.
Of course, using a favor on that scale would
mean his house would become a drop-off for drugs or worse. He would
never resort to calling in any of those markers. Something like
information about this bunch wouldn’t be considered anything more
than a simple request by a friend of the family.
“ Marko?
Clint Faraday here. I was a friend of your father.”
“ Yo,
Clint! Remember! Otherwise, you ain’t got this number. Not ten
people in the world know this number. What can I do for
you?”
“ I just
need a little info about the Colombian mob here and what they’re
going to try to get a friend’s land – Oh! I’m in
Panamá.”
“ Gimme a
number and a connection and I’ll call back in mebbe a half hour or
so.”
“ Forthingwells in Panamá City. Four oh four nine eight seven
nine nine, area five oh seven. It’s a cell phone. Reaches me
anywhere in Panamá.”
“ Okay.
Later.” He hung up. Clint grinned. He would get information the CIA
would take a year to find in half an hour. Or so.
“ Learn
anything?” Judi asked as Clint went back out on the
porch.
“ I
will.”
“ Clint.
It’s the Mexican and Colombian bunch with a couple of Panamanians
thrown in,” Marko reported forty minutes later. “If it included the
Ruskies I’d tell you flat, no matter what Pops promised, I wouldn’t
touch it. These are a wad of amateurs who think they can think, but
they got sense enough not to deal with the Ruskies. Do NOT get
involved with the Ruskie mob. They’re looney as gooney birds. Don’t
have a concept of when to stop. Act first, think later.
“ I’m
gonna give you a name in Panamá City. Talk with her. She’s been
around. Corrupt as anyone you’ll ever meet, but with a sort of
charm. Don’t trust her and no deals with her. Just ask her to tell
you what she knows about that scam. Alicia G. Vargas.
“ Don’t
trust even people you know right in your back yard and go
everywhere with a piece. You got the license. Tell your Indian
friend to never go anywhere alone and do NOT go to Panamá City or
Santiago – and do NOT, under any circumstances, go to
Colón!
“ You
ain’t got a clue what’s goin’ on there, Clint. This Indian has land
worth about two mil he’s selling for one and they want it for
nothin’. Use my name to back them off of it. They got a real fancy
mouthpiece who’s as scummy a scumbag as ever walked the Earth.
You’ll think he’s a great pal – got what you call charisma – but
all you get from him is a knife in the back. Name’s Alfonso Cabriez
Ariel.
“ Ariel’s
are those cutter ants you got there that can take down a tree in a
night. Sorta apt, you know?
“ Call me,
anything else. I want to ask a favor, but it ain’t got nothin’ to
do with anything else. Personal. It’ll wait til you get this one
straightened out.”
“ Shit!”
Clint exploded. “Ronaldo went to Panamá City last night’s bus from
David! I can’t reach him unless he calls me!”
“ I’ll
call back. Ten minutes.” He hung up.
“ I don’t
like the look on your face!” Judi cried. “Clint! What
happened!”
“ Nothing
– I honestly and very sincerely hope!”
“ Clint.
We might be too late with this. I can’t find your Indian friend,”
Marko said twenty minutes later. “Clint, I can find anybody,
anywhere. They done what I think and you got an army to wipe those
scum off the face of the Earth.
“ Clint,
your friend is probably dead by ... gimme a minute. Call from down
there.”
Three minutes later: “Clint, your friend’s in
that big hospital near Via Espania. I got muscle right there in the
room. They tried to kill him – and ALMOST did, but he’s gonna be
alright in a few days ... Okay. You got a flight from the airport
on Bocas in thirty five minutes, but they’ll hold it for you if I
say. I’ll have a guy meet you in Panamá City at the airport. Carry
a piece. They’ll manage not to find it at the airport.
“