The Infinity Tattoo (20 page)

They said no.

“Right then, let’s get down to business. I understand that you have some . . . items of interest for me?”

Meg pulled out the copies of the photos and emails.

“These are copies, you understand,” Jack said.

Augusto picked up the picture of himself with the congressmen and examined it closely. Then he lifted the document containing the emails and held it close to his face. One of the men, who now stood in attendance next to him by the armchair, handed him a pair of reading glasses. He took them and slid them onto his face. Then he proceeded to read every word of the document very carefully.

Finally, he set the papers down and looked at Jack, then Meg. “What do you want?”

“Call off your dogs,” Jack said. “Let us retrieve Alex’s body and send it home to his parents. Let us return to the United States in peace. Copies of these photos and documents are already in the hands of some powerful journalists in the United States. They have instructions should any harm come to either one of us. We have also been in touch with the American embassy, as I am sure you know. We wouldn’t want to see a diplomatic incident blow up in your face.”

Augusto took a sip of his brandy and gazed for a moment at the floor. His gaze returned to Jack, then he nodded. “So be it,” he said.

Jack and Meg stood up.

“Well, then,” Jack said. “We’ll see ourselves out.”

As they closed the door behind them and headed towards the elevator, Jack could feel, rather than hear the presence of someone following them. He tensed, ready to push Meg out of the way as he launched his assault.

“Don’t move,” he heard a man say behind him.

Andres held his pistol to one man’s temple. Mike was behind him, with a gun trained on another guy.

“Turn around, hands behind your back,” said Mike, roughly spinning the man he held at gunpoint around. “Jack, handcuffs are in my back pocket.”

Jack was stunned, but did as he was asked. He found the cuffs and secured them to the man’s wrists.

“Good,” said Mike, then Mike helped Andres cuff the other man.

“Mike? What the f—” Jack started to say.

“These men came up to the sixth floor a few minutes after you entered the room. We were lucky to get here before they did,” Mike explained.

Jack looked the two men over. Unlike the thugs who had attacked them in the street, these two were smartly dressed in business suits, so as to blend in at a place like the Intercontinental Hotel. He watched as Andres and Mike patted them down, removing semi-automatic pistols tucked into the back of their belts, concealed by their suit jackets, and knives strapped to their ankles.

“Jack,” said Mike, pulling him out of his daze. He handed Jack one of the pistols. “Can you make sure the area is clear. And be quick about it.”

Jack did a quick reconnaissance down to the end of the hallway. He paused at Augusto’s door and stood still, listening. He could hear the very faint sound of voices but nothing untoward. He turned and proceeded down to the other end of the hall.

Then he returned to his buddies and the two men being held at gun point. “It’s all clear,” he said to Mike.

“Good,” said Mike, looking around. “We need to stash these guys somewhere.”

“There’s a bathroom about halfway down the hall.”

Mike nodded. Still holding the guns to their heads, Mike and Andres steered the two assailants into the bathroom.

Jack said to Meg, “Can you keep an eye out? If you see anyone, come into the bathroom.”

Meg nodded and stood in the recess to the bathrooms pretending to be rummaging in her shoulder bag while keeping an eye on the empty hallway.

Jack entered the bathroom just in time to see Andres pop both their captives on the head with the butt of his gun. The two men slumped to the floor, unconscious. He turned and nodded at Jack and Mike and shrugged. “That should keep them quiet until we can get out of here.”

Jack nodded. “Let’s go.”

The four of them reached Mike’s vehicle and piled in. Meg and Jack lay prone with their heads down in the back as Mike navigated the streets of the city. Andres kept an eye out for anyone following them. It was rush hour and the traffic was horrendous. Finally they reached the outskirts of Tegucigalpa and the highway and were able to gain some speed.

Meg and Jack sat back up. “What in the hell happened back there?” Jack said.

“We had just gotten out of the elevator and found a service area to duck into when the second elevator opened,” said Mike. “Those two men in suits came out. They entered the room right near the end of the hallway. We didn’t know which room you were in. So we waited and watched.”

“Then you two came out of the door at the end of the hallway,” Mike continued. “We were just about to come out of the service area when we saw the two men leave their room and start to follow you. So we waited until they passed us. Then we came up behind them.”

“Thank God you were there,” Meg said.

“Amen to that,” Mike said.

“I can’t believe that asshole tried to kill us,” Jack said. “Didn’t he hear us when we told him that the information would be released to the press?”

“Maybe he just didn’t care,” Meg said. “Maybe he figured he could ride it out.”

“Yeah,” Jack said, “and maybe killing us mattered more to that son of a bitch than the reputation of his country.”

When they reached the Soto Cano, Meg, who didn’t have proper identification to enter, laid on the floor with a couple of jackets over her. Luckily, the military guard on duty was a friend of Andres. When he saw that it was Andres in the car, he smiled and waved them through. Mike drove directly to his quarters and they slipped inside.

It was a large room, simply furnished with a bed, a kitchenette with a small refrigerator and microwave oven, and a couch with a couple of chairs surrounding a coffee table in the middle.

They threw their packs on the bed and everyone except Jack sat down.

Jack paced. “We are so fucked,” he said every time he turned.

Mike, Andres, and Meg just sat in stunned silence. Then Andres said, “Maybe not.”

Jack stopped pacing.

“There is always the politician—Luis Pedroza. If this information hits the press, his career will be over.”

Meg glanced around at her colleagues. “It’s worth a try,” she said.

“How do we reach him?” Jack asked.

“I think we should try the reporter angle,” Meg said. “I’ll contact his office and tell him that I have information about his involvement in Alex’s disappearance. I’ll ask for a private meeting.”

* * *

Meg and Jack spent the night on Mike’s sleeper sofa. What with the road construction and the gangs, the highway back to the capital was too dangerous to attempt late at night.

Lying in the quiet with Mike in the same room, they held each other close and communicated with gentle stroking and soft kisses. They had come closer than ever to losing their lives, and their need for each other was intense. But they would have to wait until they were alone to express those feelings.

* * *

Luis Pedroza’s office was nothing short of opulent: off-white walls accented with gold crown-molding, crystal chandeliers, luxurious swag curtains, and heavy dark mahogany furniture. Meg took a seat in an elegant armchair with velvet upholstery. Her feet rested on a plush oriental rug. Jack sat opposite her.

She handed Pedroza a photograph.

“But,” he sputtered, “where on earth did you get this?”

“I’m not sure why that’s relevant,” Meg said. “What
is
relevant are the contents of the photo, wouldn’t you agree?”

“When was this taken?”

“Right after the president was removed from office, I believe,” Meg said, avoiding the word “coup”. She knew that Honduran politicians refused to call it that, and she didn’t want to debate the matter with him. She had a different agenda. “I have corroborating evidence from some very reliable sources. That is Augusto, is it not?”

“Yes, yes it is,” said Luis, sitting back in his chair. She could see the beads of sweat gathering on his brow.

“I understand that Augusto was working with you and several of your colleagues to, shall we say, keep the peace, during that time? You don’t have to answer that question.” She handed him the file with the communications from Augusto.

He looked them over and then back at her. “What do you want?”

“You do remember Alex Larson, don’t you? The American journalist that went missing?”

Luis nodded his head.

“Well, he was a colleague of mine. And of Jack’s,” she said nodding towards him. “When Jack learned what happened to him and where his body was dumped, Garcia tried to do the same to Jack. To make him disappear. But Garcia failed, as you can see,” Meg continued. “Still, he continued his pursuit of Jack. Which left us no choice but to confront him. We showed him the same evidence that you are seeing. We asked him to leave us alone or we would go the press. We have, of course, provided copies of all of these documents to our colleagues, fellow journalists, who will keep it under wraps unless something happens to us.

“Just after our meeting, Augusto tried to eliminate us,” Meg paused to let this information sink in. “Don’t you think that such a move was . . . unwise?” she asked Luis. “All we can surmise is that his quest for revenge was even greater than his desire to protect Honduras and its politicians.”

Luis gazed at the evidence lying on the coffee table in front of him. Then he stood and walked to a window and stared out onto the street. After a moment, he turned to them. “I will take care of Augusto,” he said. “This matter ends here and now.”

“Good,” Meg said.

“There is just one more thing,” Jack said. “We have learned that Augusto has in his possession photographs of one of our air force officers, a Colonel Richard Parker. At the time, Parker was newly enlisted. We want those photographs. We don’t care how you get them.”

Luis bowed his head. Then he looked up once again. “I will see what I can do.”

Meg and Jack stood up. Luis strode over to them and shook hands, then saw them to the door.

“You will make sure those photos are returned to us?” Jack said.

Luis nodded.

* * *

Meg and Jack spent the next forty-eight hours doing almost nothing except for the occasional walk. Sister Reina assured them that this particular neighborhood was safe.

The streets were not as deserted as they were in some of the more affluent areas of Tegucigalpa, at least in the evening. Kids played outside. Women hung laundry and walked to the small grocery store and back. Men gathered in front of their houses and leaned against the walls watching the activity on the street.

When Meg and Jack did venture out, they noticed that eyes were always on them. People would nod when they passed and there was recognition in their eyes.

“They know who we are, don’t they?” Jack said softly, even though he was speaking in English and seriously doubted that he would be understood.

“Well, maybe not exactly who we are. I imagine Sister Reina let folks in the neighborhood know we’d be here for a bit. She might have even asked them to keep an eye on us,” Meg said.

“It seems so safe here,” Jack said. “I wonder why. I mean you hear about how teenage boys are literally snatched off the street to be inducted into gangs. Why does this neighborhood seem safer than that? ”

“The church? Neighborhood watch?” Meg said. At his puzzled look, Meg went on, “I don’t know. I had a friend who worked in a poor area in the outskirts of Tegus. She and her husband were Canadian missionaries. They supported some of the schools there.”

“She said they bought computers for one of the schools and they were never stolen. The people in the neighborhood made sure of it. She said one time, the school was visited by a couple of gang members, but they only looked things over. Then they left. She was there at the school at the time, but no harm came to her. Somehow, she and her husband were off limits because the neighborhood looked out for them.”

“That has to take some kind of faith,” Jack said.

“More than I have, that’s for certain.” She was silent for a moment, pensive. Then she said, “It’s gotten worse, you know.”

“What has?”

“The drug trafficking. I mean, think about it. Following the coup, all of the embassies except the United States pulled out. All foreign assistance stopped, including gang prevention and drug trafficking interventions. While the Honduran police were trying to keep the protesters under control, what do you think the cartels and gangsters were doing?”

“It’s pretty sad isn’t it?” Jack said.

“You know the real irony? The political machinery took out a president to preserve its democracy, which they felt was being threatened. And in the process, resorted to the very same tactics as any dictatorship.”

* * *

Besides the occasional walk in the neighborhood, Meg and Jack were pretty much tied to their room. The house had internet, so they were able to keep up with the news of the outside world. The enforced rest gave Jack time to heal. The swelling went down and the bruises slowly started to fade. But the days passed at a snail’s pace, at least for Jack.

Meg read books on her IPad and kept up with the news, but she could sense Jack’s restlessness as he got better. He fidgeted and interrupted her reading every five minutes. Finally, she put her IPad down. “Okay, I get it. You’re bored. And I’m bored. But what are we going to do about it?”

“Well, I can think of another way to pass the time, besides reading a book” Jack said as he nibbled his way up her arm.

“Are you sure?” Meg said. “What about your injuries?”

“Don’t worry. All the important parts are working fine.” He nuzzled her neck and nipped at a spot just below her ear.

Meg laid her iPad on the bedside table and wrapped her arms around him. She gazed at his face and reached up to touch his bruised cheek. Jack turned towards her hand and kissed her palm. Meg inhaled sharply as it shot a spike of heat straight to her belly.

“In fact,” Jack said, lying back on the bed, “I just might need some tender loving care to nurse me back to health.”

“Well, in that case, let me see what I can do,” Meg said.

Slowly and gently, Meg ran her hands over Jack’s torso, pausing at the bandage for a minute, then continuing downward. When she reached his navel, she lingered, enjoying the feel of his firm, six-pack abs. Then her hands moved upwards once again towards his chest. Springy hair, warm skin.

She leaned over to give him a gentle kiss, but Jack pulled her firmly to him, deepening the kiss. He rolled her onto her back next to him and wrapped a leg over hers. Propped on his elbow, he explored every inch of her with his free hand. He gently pulled off her blouse and then her skirt.