“That must have seemed like a godsend to the folks at Escudo Security.”
“Indeed. And instead of trying to fight a long legal battle with someone who could afford top lawyers, they decided to take what they felt was truly theirs.”
“That doesn’t forgive murder.”
“No. They’ve gone way out of line. We need to reel them in. What have you found out since we talked last?”
I told him everything I had learned so far, finishing with the planting of the GPS device on the car just an hour before.
He smiled at that and took a sip of tea. “You do know it’s illegal to plant a location device on someone without their written consent?”
“Cell phones are location devices. No one kicks up a fuss about that.”
“People give their consent. It’s in that long user agreement no one reads.”
“Because it’s written in Sumerian. You have to have degrees in law and engineering to understand those things. I suppose it’s the same with those virtual assistants that listen in on your conversations.”
Gary chuckled. “Oh yes, people actually pay to have their homes bugged. That’s something I would have never predicted back in the Cold War.”
“So am I in trouble for acting in an illegal fashion toward the poor, innocent folks of Escudo Security?”
Gary waved a dismissive hand. “This is the CIA, not the Girl Scouts. It’s not like we’re bringing them to trial anyway.”
I put my teacup down. “We’re not?”
“No. This has to be done quietly.”
“So when do the field agents come?”
Gary winced. “They don’t.”
“What? No field agents?”
“No.”
“They’re leaving this to a retired agent and an agent on desk duty.”
“Things are really busy right now with the terrorist threat turned up. The Panamanians are low priority.”
I studied him. “Come on, Junior. I wasn’t born yesterday, as my back keeps reminding me. Does the agency know you’re here?”
He looked away. “I took a couple of personal days.”
I groaned. I knew something was off about this.
“So what’s really going on?”
Gary wouldn’t look at me.
After a long moment, he spoke.
“We messed up,” he said. “And I don’t mean the Agency but the three of us. Remember that little beachside restaurant in La Palma, where we met with some of the family members after they were released?”
I nodded. It had been a beautiful place, looking out at the sea. Golden sands, crystal-clear waters, and me, James, and Gary all hyped up and keeping watch for an ambush. The invasion had happened just a month before, and while some Panamanians loved us, others didn’t. The bombing had been messy in places and, as usual, innocent people had gotten caught in the crossfire.
We had met with the heads of households of some of the families that had been involved in the Commander Pretto coup. We explained how we promised them visas, protection, and that we would trace any stolen property. Then we had handed them over to another set of agents to take care of them. Our job was done, and we were off to the next country and the next assignment.
I never saw those people again, and I had assumed the CIA had kept all its promises. Apparently, it had not.
“So you’re saying they’re angry because we didn’t get them all their property back? Fair enough, but that doesn’t excuse murder.”
“It’s worse than that. Much worse. That second CIA team had different orders than ours and didn’t bother to fill us in.”
“Need-to-know basis again?”
He nodded sadly. “Yeah. I only pieced it together over the years, and only now have I been in a position to help. The Agency decided that they were only going to give visas to the coup members’ direct families, not the extended families like they promised. And to cover their tracks, instead of giving them a direct flight to the United States and a new identity, they made them stay in Mexico for five years. I suppose that was to cover their tracks, deny any involvement in Pretto’s attempted coup. They gave them barely enough to live on. Five years of misery and uncertainty after a spell in Noriega’s dungeon.”
“And they had to leave their extended families behind,” I said. “All the old people and the cousins and aunts and uncles. Oh Junior, you know how families are in Latin America. They don’t distinguish between nuclear and extended family! And with all their portable property gone, they must have been impoverished.”
“Yeah, the Agency stabbed them in the back. They did get U.S. visas five years later, but the bitterness must have already set in.”
“That still doesn’t excuse murder,” I insisted. “What are we going to do about this?”
He raised his hands. “I have no idea.”
“But why isn’t the Agency trying to make good?”
“They want to let the past remain in the past. I can’t.”
“No,” I said and sighed. “I can’t either.”
I checked the GPS tracker.
“Well, whatever we do, we need to do it now,” I said.
“Why?”
“Because that car I put a trace on is heading out of town.”
Gary and I took his car, a late-model sports car that was obviously evidence of a middle-aged man harkening back to his youth. I didn’t rib him about it. He had a heck of a youth, and he was justified in wanting to relive it.
I was getting to relive mine too. As we sped along the main route through town in pursuit of the Escudo Security car, I felt more alive than I had in years.
I had Junior at my side, we were both checking our pistols, and we were tracking a target vehicle. I felt great.
Until the target vehicle moved out of range and disappeared from my GPS locator.
Twelve
“It’s gone! They must have gotten onto the highway and sped up,” I said.
Just then we got stuck at a red light.
“Ugh! They’re probably going to the burial site to retrieve the stone and move it like they said they would. I can’t imagine why else they would be going out of town in that direction. There’s only countryside this way.”
“Hold on.”
Gary glanced either
