happening too well.
When people get excited and scared with weapons in their hands anything can happen especially as I could see, now that I was viewing them close up and not through an optic sight, that some of these people were only just getting used to having face hair. It only takes one jumpy young man to fire then everyone joins in out of fright and confusion.
Boots and trainers rushed past as loud instructions came from commanders trying to make themselves heard over the continuous thumping of the rotor blades.
Radios blasted out incomprehensible mush that even they couldn't hear properly.
The sole of someone's boot kicked me between the shoulder blades to get me down on the floor. I went with it, flat on to my stomach, hands out to break my fall and save my face; then, showing compliance, I quickly placed them on the back of my head. I was roughly searched and lost everything out of my pockets, which made me feel naked and depressed.
The shiny Nokia went into someone's pocket as the helis' noise subsided, and shouts filled the vacuum, mixed with the din of corrugated iron getting banged and the storeroom being ransacked. I bet anything nice and shiny in there was falling straight off the shelves and into their pockets as well.
The clatter of rotors slowed gradually and there was the high-pitched whine of the turbos as both engines closed down.
Carrie and Aaron's comforting sounds to Luz dropped with the noise level as rapid Spanish radio traffic echoed from the storeroom. Everybody else was much quieter in the house now; maybe it had just been the noise of the helis whipping them into a frenzy.
But then came the sound of lighter rotors. My stomach churned and I knew that an already bad day was about to get a whole lot worse. Maybe the reason we hadn't been killed on sight was that Charlie wanted to see to it in person.
THIRTY-FOUR
As the Jet Ranger's rotor blades cut out, I heard the barking of orders and bodies started rushing from the room. Three remained covering us, two nervous young guys, maybe their first time out, and one older, in his early thirties.
Outside on the veranda I could hear a lot of warp speed jabbering. The boys were probably swapping stories about how particularly good they were during the attack. I kept my head turned to the left.
The family were still huddled around the armchair. Carrie was nearest to me as they cuddled and stroked Luz's head. Aaron's eyes burned into her. It was hard to read his expression: it looked to me like pure anger, but then he reached out and stroked her face.
Calmer and more controlled Spanish came from the rear of the house, sounding more cultured than the guys with weapons gob bing off. I tilted my head very slightly and screwed my eyes to the top of their sockets to see what was happening.
Charlie, dressed in a navy tracksuit and white trainers, had three or four others buzzing around him like presidential aides as he strode into the room. He walked towards me, looking as if he had need of nothing, not even oxygen. I felt scared.
There was nothing I could do physically about things at the moment. If I saw the chance to get away I would grab it, but right now I just had to look away from him and wait. Whatever happened, I knew it was likely to be painful.
They came towards me, talking quietly to each other as he was called by one of the bodies still in the computer room, and then there was the squeak of rubber soled trainers on floorboards as the group promptly turned and headed back from where they'd just come.
I glanced up and saw them hunched around the PC as the screen flickered and slowly rolled down the image of the lock as it was refreshed. One was pointing at the picture, talking as if he was giving Charlie a multimedia presentation.
The others nodded and agreed.
I turned my eyes to the armchair. Aaron and Carrie were looking anxiously over Luz's head at the group. Aaron turned and stared back at his wife, his eyes swivelling in their sockets as he leant to kiss a sobbing Luz's hair. The guys were still mumbling on the veranda behind me.
I watched as one of the crew broke away from the PC and came back into the living area. He'd had a change of kit since I stole his Land Cruiser, and now boasted a clean, shiny black tracksuit. His neck was covered with a gauze dressing, held in place by surgical tape, and there was a big smile on his face as he sauntered towards me.
I lowered my eyes, clenched my teeth and tensed up.
He crouched down and cocked his head so we could have eye-to-eye.
'Como esta, amigo?' His prominent Adam's apple bobbed up and down under the blood-spotted gauze.
I nodded.
'Bien, bien.'
He gave the thumbs up with a smile.
'Si, good, good.'
I kept my body tensed but still nothing happened. He was taking the piss. I couldn't help but smile back as he got to his feet and returned to the crew at the PC, then addressed a few remarks to Charlie, probably telling him I was indeed the same man and maybe confirming to him that I was the only one on the ground earlier.
Charlie seemed very cool about things, not even turning to look at me. Instead he smiled and pinched both cheeks of the
Land Cruiser guy as he handed over the plastic bag carrying my docs. Charlie then went back and muttered to some more of his aides by the screen.
My Land Cruiser friend pulled out my roll of dollars from the bag, before leaving via the storeroom. Seconds later, one of the Hueys sparked up, turbos whining. Some of the lads were being lifted out.
The heli took off, thundering over the roof, as the staff meeting came to an end. They streamed back into the living area, Charlie in the lead, my bag of docs in his hand. He made a beeline towards me. I did my best to bury my face in my shoulder.
His mud-stained trainers stopped a foot or two away from my eyes, so new they didn't even have creases in the nylon yet. I concentrated on my shoulder as he crouched down with a crack of his knees and grabbed my hair. I just went with it: what was the point of resisting?
Our eyes met. His were dark brown and bloodshot, no doubt due to the force of the explosion. His skin was peppered with scabbed-up pockmarks from the shattered glass, and the side of his neck was dressed like that of the guy from the Land Cruiser. But for all that, he didn't look angry, just in command.
He stared at me, his expression impenetrable. I could smell his cologne and hear his steel watch strap jangle as he grabbed my chin with his spare hand.
The palm was soft, and well-manicured fingers pressed into my cheeks. There still was no anger in his eyes, no hint of any emotion whatsoever.
'Why are you people so stupid? All I wanted was some assurance the device wouldn't be used inside Panama. Then you could have had the launch control system. Some form of assurance, that's all.' He threw my docs to the floor.
Instead, I have my family threatened ...'
I let the weight of my head rest in his hands, my eyelids drooping as he shook me about some more.
'So I comply and take the rest of your money, you then assure me everything is fine, just business. But still you try to kill my family. Do you know who I am?
What I can do to you, all of you people?'
He held me, looking at me, his eyes giving nothing.
'You are going to use Sunburn against a ship in the Miraflores that's the target, isn't it?' He shook me again.
'Why you are doing it, I don't care. But it will bring the US back that I care about a great deal.'
As my face moved from side to side I caught glimpses of my passport and wallet, discarded in their plastic on the floor by the bookshelves, and both Aaron and Carrie, still covering Luz on the armchair, their faces red and set with fear.
