“Dinner is on the way,” Vilar said. “I ordered from that place in Cali that you seemed to like. Of course, I didn’t know you were bringing a guest, but I’m sure there will be enough.”
They followed a short path through the trees that led to several camouflage tents. The largest held an array of high tech equipment. Most of it had monitors with sweeping lines going around dials or changing spiky graphs. All flights and radio communications in the area were being tracked. A lap top sat on a small table. No printer. This was truly a paperless office, perfect for a quick getaway that wouldn’t leave behind important information. Two chairs, of the fold up patio type, faced the table. Very business like. In the back corner of the tent, stood a neatly made up cot and a wash stand.
“I assume you’ll want to sleep after dinner.” He held open the door flap of another, smaller tent. It held two cots and a wash stand. Vilar turned to Sheila, “If you need anything more than what you have in your bag, please ask. I can get anything in a matter of hours.”
Sheila’s stomach hurt and she wanted to ask for a Cold Stone sundae and a life time supply of medicines for Mateo, but she said, “I’d like to wash my face and hands before dinner.”
Pajaro hugged her and said, “We’re going to do more than that before the food arrives.”
“Ah, yes,” Vilar said, “We’ll eat at your convenience. I’ll be in my office.”
Pajaro led Sheila into the tent and zipped the door closed. Sheila started to protest, but he stepped over to her and put his hand over her mouth. He put his index finger over his lips to indicate that she shouldn’t say anything. She nodded and he took away his hand. He searched the tent and found three small mini cameras and microphones. He cut the line to the first. A loud guffaw came from the tent next to theirs. Pajaro disabled the other two. Then he pointed to the door which bore the shadows of two men holding automatic weapons. He came to Sheila and kissed her loudly on the shoulder, backing way to give her a piercing look.
She understood that he wanted her to join in the charade. “Oh, Pajaro,” she sighed loudly.
He gave her an incredulous look and shrugged. He kissed her shoulder some more, rolling his hand in a circle to indicate that she should make more noise. While she was saying, “Hmmmmm,” he took out his knife.
He said something in Spanish that she didn’t understand, but she assumed it translated into some kind of pillow talk having to do with getting on with having sex. She said, “Yes. Yes. Oh yes!”
As she was saying that, he used his knife to cut a long slit in the tent, which he held open for her to go through. He stepped out after her, took her hand, and whispered, “They’ll detect the transmission from the GPS and Vilar’ll give the order to kill us. Gotta go fast and far. Ready?”
Sheila nodded.
As they trotted through the forest at a quick pace, Pajaro said, “He won’t call off his dogs until we’re dead.”
Loud cries rose from the camp and indeed the sound of yelping dogs.
Comments