A King's ransom

“Look straight ahead, put the money on the ground, and put your hands over your head. Move very slowly.”

I did exactly as told, moving almost in slow motion. I slipped the knapsack off my shoulder and lowered it to the ground, then raised my hands.

“Count it, Padre.”

Father Balto knelt on the grass and opened the knapsack. His hands shook as he fumbled through the stacks of hundred-dollar bills. I watched for a few seconds, then better used the time to get a lay of the land, though my line of sight was shrinking in the waning daylight. With each passing moment another distant row of stone crosses and headstones slipped into the dark onset of night.

“It all appears to be here,” the priest shouted.

Joaquin said, “Take the bag and step over to the statue.”

He took it, then retreated in silence to the statue of the Blessed Virgin.

“Turn around, yanqui.”

I assumed that was me. I turned my head slowly, then my whole body. I visualized myself reaching for my gun, trying to discern how quickly I could get to it, if needed. Not quickly enough, I feared.

The gray skies were nearly black. All around the perimeter of the darkening cemetery, city lights began to twinkle, marking the end of another day. Deep within this vast urban graveyard it was as if we were falling into a black hole. Distant lights were visible, but my immediate surroundings were fading into the shadows. Slowly my eyes began to adjust, and I could almost make out the pained expression on the familiar face that was staring back at me from twenty meters away. The body was slimmer than I’d remembered, but the countenance was the same.

The man with the gun to his head was definitely my father.

My eyes locked on his battered image. Weeks of captivity seemed to have taken a greater toll than a lifetime at sea.

My gaze shifted toward Joaquin. “You have your money. Now let him go.”

“Is that what you expect?”

“That was the deal.”

“We have a deal, you say? Is that how you think this works? You change it every which way you please, and then finally you announce that we have a deal?”

“We were negotiating.”

“There wasn’t supposed to be any negotiating. That was the deal.”

“Your deal with who, Jaime?”

He just scoffed and said, “This was supposed to be an easy one. What a joke.”

“It can still be easy. There’s a sack full of money right over there. Take it, and give me my father.”

He let out a mirthless chuckle. “Just let him go, eh?”

“That’s what we agreed.”

“Sure, I’ll let him go. If you come with me.”

It was as if he’d punched me in the chest. “That’s not what we talked about.”

“I don’t care what we talked about.”

“You’re getting the money, no more.”

“What’s the matter, don’t you love your father? Hasn’t he suffered enough? Be a good son. Come with me. Set your old man free.”

Father Balto stirred. “Joaquin, please-”

“Shut up! I’m talking to the yanqui.”

I was out of things to say. I couldn’t possibly go with him, but I didn’t want to set him off.

“Time’s up,” said Joaquin.

“Stop playing games.”

He shoved the pistol against my father’s skull. “You’re right. Forget the swap. Why don’t I just kill your old man and take you at gunpoint?”

I was a split second away from reaching for my gun.

“Wait!” Alex shouted, gun drawn. She’d given up her hiding spot and was standing in the open-not exactly what I’d had in mind when I’d asked her to cover us. I braced myself for a three-way gunfight, but Joaquin showed restraint.

He tightened his grip on my father and said, “Get out of here, Alex.”

She aimed her gun in his direction, but he was using my father as a human shield.

“Give me the prisoner,” she said.

“Go to hell.”

“Give him to me, and I’ll give you the other one and a half million.”

My heart was racing. I couldn’t possibly stop her, but this seemed like a dangerous bluff.

Inch by inch she was moving closer to Joaquin, talking to him all the way. “Jaime didn’t kill himself.”

My God, is she going to point the finger at me?

“So he’s not dead?” said Joaquin.

“Oh, he’s dead, all right. He was about to name names. I couldn’t let him do that.”

I nearly buckled at the knees. Is she still bluffing?

“You scammed me,” said Joaquin.

“No. You scammed me. Killing the prisoner wasn’t part of the deal. Now, hand him over if you want the whole three million.”

I could hardly speak, but I forced out the words. “Alex, what the heck is going on?”

She didn’t answer.

Joaquin said, “What’s the matter, yanqui? Did she fool you into thinking that Jaime acted alone? Did you really believe that a little insurance dweeb in Miami has guerrilla friends?”

I looked at Alex, the former FARC girl. “My God, you know him. That’s why he agreed to a simultaneous exchange. He knew we wouldn’t call the police, because someone on the other side was on his side.”

“Quiet, Nick.”

Joaquin jerked my dad forward. “Everyone, shut up. I’m in control here.”

“That’s right,” said Alex, speaking more like the calm negotiator. “And you can still be the big winner. All three million. No one to split it with.”

My eyes darted back and forth from Alex to my father to Joaquin. She may have scammed us at the beginning, but when it came to the money, I knew that she was bluffing Joaquin. Was she trying to make amends?

“Whose side are you on, Alex?”

“Stay out of this,” she answered.

“I’d like to know that, too,” Joaquin snapped. “Whose side are you on?”

“Do you want the money or don’t you?”

“Does this mean you’re not taking your cut?” he asked.

“I said you could have it all.”

“But I want to hear you say it to your client. Tell the yanqui that you’re not taking your cut.”

“I was never getting a cut.”

“What do you call fifty percent?”

“Every penny of it was Jaime’s.” She was staring at Joaquin as she spoke, aiming her gun right at him, but I sensed that she was talking for my benefit. “All I wanted was for you and your thugs to leave my family alone.” She raised her voice, as if to make sure I heard. “That’s all I ever wanted, Nick. Just to buy a little peace for what’s left of my family in Bogota.”

“Such a sad story,” Joaquin said with sarcasm.

She adjusted her aim. “Someone should have killed you a long time ago.”

“A long time ago I should have let you bleed to death on the side of the road with a knife in your back.”

“You don’t own me just because you pulled me out of a ditch. And you can’t make me come back to you by