“If you mean do they make me nervous, the answer is no. But… twice I spotted some tough-looking hombres who were not natives. They gave me the once-over.”
Brodie and Taylor exchanged glances. Brodie asked, “You ever carry any cargo for Kavak?”
“Once. Like ten cases of bottled water.”
Well, thought Brodie, they weren’t using it in the coffee.
Collins asked, “What are you getting at?”
“You never know until you get there.” He looked at Collins’ breakfast bowl. “Mind if I have that?”
“Help yourself.”
Brodie slid his and Collins’ bowls in front of Taylor. “All for you.”
Collins sipped his coffee and made a face, then said, “I taxied to this end of the runway, so the plane is closer.” He added, “In case we need to make a quick exit.”
Taylor said, “Good thinking, John.”
Collins smiled.
It always amazed Brodie how fast a local hire—after some jitters—got into the game. Every guy wants to be James Bond. Brodie informed him, “We’ll be sharing a room tonight if we stay.”
“Mrs. Bowman said… but… company policy is that at unattended airfields, I stay with the aircraft.” He explained, “It’s not my plane. It belongs to a rich Venezuelan who has it in a rental pool to make some American dollars. But… we’ll see…” He looked at Taylor.
So Captain Collins was torn between his duty and his desire to maybe see Mrs. Bowman in a short nightshirt. Brodie could relate. He said to Collins, “Okay, we’d actually rather have you as the cut-out guy. Here’s the plan, John: Sarah and I are going to take a boat on the river to do some bird-watching in about fifteen minutes. We will be gone maybe three hours, four max. You stay here with our bags, and if we don’t return in four hours, or you don’t get a sat phone call from us, you call us, and if we don’t answer, you take off and call the number we gave you for Colonel Dombroski.”
Collins had no reply, and Brodie couldn’t tell if he was excited to be part of this adventure or if he was scared shitless.
Taylor said to him, “You should actually put our bags onboard, and maybe wait in or near the plane like you’re doing some maintenance, and be ready for a quick takeoff.”
Again no reply, but he nodded.
Brodie said to him, “Play it by ear. Use your judgment. Don’t fall asleep. Keep your gun and phone on you, and act natural around any Pemón you see.” He reminded Collins, “You’re just a pilot working for Apex.”
Again, Collins nodded.
Taylor made eye contact with him. “This is important to our country, John, and we trust you. Any questions?”
Collins seemed to be thinking; then, remembering something Brodie had said, he asked, “Are you looking for somebody?”
Brodie replied, “We are looking for birds. We may return with a bird. If curiosity gets the best of you and you look in our bags, you’ll see zip ties. And you’ll also see our real passports.” He informed Collins, “We are not married.”
Collins nodded as though he’d figured that out.
Taylor added, “You’ll see money too. It belongs to the government.” She smiled. “But the candy bars are mine. Take what you want.”
Collins forced a smile.
Brodie asked, “Anything else on your mind?” Aside from wondering if you’re going to die here, or if you’re going to get lucky in Bogotá?
Collins took a deep breath, then said, “I’ll follow your instructions.” He again forced a smile. “You’re the customers.”
“And you’re a good pilot,” said Taylor.
He looked at her. “Maybe this is what I needed to wake up and get out of this country.”
Taylor assured him, “We may be able to help get your girlfriend out.”
If Taylor was in charge of immigration, thought Brodie, half of Caracas would be in Miami.
Collins said, “Thanks, but… she’ll want to stay here.”
More likely she wouldn’t be asked. Sounded like the captain was signaling to the ex–Mrs. Bowman that he’d drop his beauty queen for her. Maggie Taylor’s good looks were not always a liability to the mission.
Well, thought Brodie, it seemed that the deal was done, and they could rely on Captain Collins. And if not—if he got cold feet and took off—there was always Brendan Worley to call on for an air extraction. Or a jungle hike to the Brazilian border, which might be a more reliable extraction than dealing with Worley.
Brodie noticed that Taylor had actually eaten all three fried eggs, along with her bowl of mush. “Leave the rest for the Pemón. They dip their darts in it.”