The Cain File (2 page)

“Well, he’ll get his soon enough. Once Velox and Li show, we can get started.”

“Have National Vice confirmed yet?” Maggie asked.

“Stuck in traffic.”

“Ai.”

“Don’t sweat it, darlin’. Not that ladies sweat in the first place.”

“I’m going to check in with Achic.”

“Looks like we ordered some class tail for this party,” she heard Beltran say in Spanish to his companion in what was probably meant to be a discreet tone as she strolled past on her way to Achic.

“An oil deal ultimately worth billions?” his partner said. “What surprises me is that she’s wearing any clothes at all.”

“With an ass like
hers
, the gringos’ll pay double. But then, I’m an ass man, from way back.”

They snorted laughs.

“Want something to drink?” Maggie said to Achic, drinking sangria.

“Not while on duty, thank you. Are Vice here yet?”

“On their way—or so they keep saying.”

Achic grimaced and she knew what he was thinking. Anyone in law enforcement in a country like this was suspect of being on the take or incompetent at best, no matter how high up they were. Achic, however, had been thoroughly vetted by the Agency. “Thank you, by the way: for telling that
tombo
out on the gate where to go. I took a bullet on the Napo River when I was in the Coast Guard, but to them I’ll always be a
caiman
—a lazy Indian.”

“I know what it’s like,” she said, sipping her drink.

“With all due respect,
señorita
, I don’t think you do.”

“We’ll see: Where are you from?”

“A little village called Cotacachi,” he said. “Just outside . . .”

“Otavalo,” she said. “I went there when I was six years old. For Fiesta del Yamor.”

A look of surprise crossed Achic’s face. “But you’re from San Francisco, California—”

“Born in Zuleta,” she said in Quechua. “My father is a
yanqui
. I was sent to the U.S. when my
mami
died.”

“Lucky you,” he said.

“In some ways.” She turned, traded glances with John Rae, on his phone again. John Rae gave a shrug. Nothing yet. Maggie sauntered over to Beltran the ass man, all wet smiles and ogle eyes. His companion was at the bar.

“Well, hello there,
chica
,” Beltran oozed in Spanish. “And what’s
your
name?”

“Kristina Marin. From Star Bank?” She put her hand out in a businesslike manner. “Representing Commerce Oil. For the document signing? A pleasure to meet you, Minister Beltran.”

Beltran coughed into his drink. “I’m so sorry,” he said, immediately changing his tone, shaking Maggie’s hand. “We weren’t properly introduced.”

“Not a problem,” she said. “Where are the others? Velox and Li?”

“Just arriving.” Beltran nodded at two men entering the room, a
norteamericano
with silver hair and sideburns
and a severe-looking Asian wearing a dark suit and a wide tie. Earnest Velox, regional vice president with Five Fortunes Petroleum, a Chinese shell company fronting Commerce Oil, and Hong Li, the Chinese minister spearheading the Amazon deal in exchange for two billion dollars in loans.

The two men joined Maggie and Beltran. Once introductions were out of the way, Velox was quick to get to the point.

“Did you bring the documents, Miss Marin?” Velox smiled warmly, but Maggie knew him to be ruthless when it came to anything that got in the way of drilling for oil.

“I did, indeed,” Maggie said, trying to snag John Rae’s eye. He was on his cell phone again, not smiling and looking at his watch. “Did you bring a pen?”

Velox patted the breast of his suit coat. “Should we get started? I have a red-eye later tonight. Back to Beijing.”

Frowning, John Rae put his phone in his pocket, smoothed the flap over it, then came striding over, hand out, brandishing a smile. “Well, hello there, gentlemen—and I do use the term loosely.” Laughs all around. “JT Owens—Star Bank, on behalf of Commerce Oil. How y’all doin’ anyway? I see you’ve already met my lovely assistant.”

Hands were shaken, backs slapped.

“Now we’re in business,” Velox said. “I believe we’re meeting next door. Correct, Minister Beltran?”

“Yes we are.”

“What’s your rush?” John Rae said. “You just got here. This promises to be one hell of a party, eh, Minister?”

“My parties are never anything less,” Beltran said.

Velox looked at his watch. “I wish we could, but . . .”

“Anybody want a real drink?” Maggie drained her sangria, winking at Beltran. “I’m ready for something stronger. And I bet twenty-five
centavos
your barman makes a terrific
pisco
sour.”

“I have verified that to be true,” Beltran said with a grin, giving Maggie bedroom eyes.

“Now you’re talking,” John Rae said, taking Maggie’s empty glass. “Anybody else? Come on, gentlemen. Where I come from it’s bad luck to sign a deal without wetting it first.”

John Rae stopped a waiter in a white jacket, ordered drinks. They arrived, far too soon for Maggie’s liking, and everyone drank.

Velox, Li, and Beltran were now checking watches regularly.

“I hear your pool table was built in Spain in 1792,” John Rae said to Beltran. “I do love the game, but it doesn’t love me. I promise to lose gracefully.”

Beltran lost his smile. Velox’s was non-existent. Li’s face turned to vinegar.

“I was telling your assistant here that we have to get to the airport tonight,” Velox said to John Rae. “With the traffic in Quito, we need to leave soon.”

“I agree,” Beltran said.

“JT,” Maggie said. “Can I have a quick word with you?”

“Sure, darlin’,” John Rae said. “Excuse me, gents.” He and Maggie moved off to one side, well away from Velox, Li, and Beltran.

Maggie said: “I’m starting to smell a rat.”

“I hate to say this.” John Rae maintained a devil-may-care smile, but his words were the opposite. “But I’m thinking we better bail.”

“Yes.” Maggie gave a deep sigh. “We’ll never get another shot at it.”

“No, we won’t. You had to beg to get this, Maggie. And they were reluctant. This was your shot to make good. But, I’m sorry to say, it’s starting to look a little funky. I’ll make up some excuse, tell them we can’t go through with it.”

In her mind, Maggie saw the bulldozers tearing up ancient trees and the topsoil of the Amazon blowing away. That would only be the start. Entire tribes would be rendered homeless, made extinct. There were two pristine fragments of Amazon rainforest—the lungs of the planet. The Yasuni was one of them. With it gone, that left one lung. And seven billion people needing to breathe through it.

“Christ, John Rae—it’s not just about me. I want to nail those guys. I want Commerce Oil.”

Their eyes met. More than a little electricity. “You and me both. But you know the protocol: if Vice fails to show, we can’t move forward with the arrest. We’re not armed. We’ll just have to give ‘em the money, regroup, and report back home. Convince the guys up top to think this warrants another stab down the road.”

Maggie felt a year’s work slipping away.

“John Rae, you didn’t come all the way down here to give those bums two million and go back home without a fish. And Commerce Oil is a whale.”

“I knew you and I were cut from the same cloth.”

“We can string them along, right up to the signing. If National Vice aren’t here by then, we’ll cancel. I’ll pretend the access codes don’t work.”

John Rae drank. “You got it.”

Maggie saw Velox marching over. His smile had a twitch to it.

“Is there some kind of problem?” he said. “Li’s starting to get antsy. We all are, quite frankly.”

“None at all,” John Rae said.

“We had to notify Star Bank and let them know we’re going to be entering the access codes in the next fifteen minutes,” Maggie said.

“We’ll be right over, Mr. Velox,” John Rae said. “Thank you so much for your patience.”

Velox huffed mildly and marched back over to Li and Beltran.

“How am I going to know if Vice are on their way?” Maggie said. “How are you going to communicate that to me?”

“Right hand on the chin means it’s a go,” John Rae said, demonstrating. “Left means
no
.”

“And if we get right up to singing, and it’s still a
no?
”

“Give Beltran the damn money.”

“That’s about the worst plan I’ve ever heard,” she said.

“Me too,” John Rae said. “But it’s the official line from head office. No one wants to see anyone get hurt over two measly million.”

“Two measly million of U.S. taxpayers’ money.”

“Bottom line, this is a milk run. And I’m not just a pretty face, either.” John Rae flashed one of his winning smiles, patted Maggie’s arm. “Roll with it.” He turned, looked over at Velox, Beltran, and Li, waiting. Velox tapped his wristwatch and raised his eyebrows.

“Let’s get signing,” Maggie said.

In a grand office next door, the five of them sat around a table the size of an aircraft carrier, while the two humorless men in aviator glasses manned the door, hands behind their backs. One man was about fifteen pounds heavier than the other, but apart from that, they were clones. The ceiling high above dazzled with elaborate rococo plasterwork with gilt highlights. The far end of the room, overlooking the pool, gave out onto a huge leaded-glass window of dozens of frames. The murmur of the band and party was muffled through the thick stone walls.

Li leafed through the documents to be signed, while Maggie booted up her MacBook.

The first thing she did was to activate the web cam and position the computer so that she had Beltran, Li, and Velox nicely framed. She hit
record
. All of this would be documented, whatever transpired.

Li passed the papers to Velox and eyed Maggie. “I hope Star Bank understands the discretion this transaction requires.” His voice echoed in the room.

“It’s all been made very clear, Mr. Li,” Maggie said, speaking clearly so the microphone would catch everything. “None of us wishes a high profile. Commerce Oil wants complete discretion as well. That’s why Star Bank is representing them. The two million will be transferred to Minister Beltran’s private account.”

Maggie saw the suspicion in Li’s face. No one trusted a man like Beltran. But there was plenty of cash for everyone down the road once Five Fortunes started pumping oil out of the Amazon for Commerce. The two million was penny ante compared to what these men stood to make for their respective interests.

“It all looks kosher to me,” Velox said, reaching into the breast pocket of his suit jacket, retrieving a gold pen. “As soon as Miss Marin here finalizes the electronic payment, I’m good to go.” He clicked his pen a couple of times with his thumb.

Beltran smiled as well and Li even divulged what might have been called a non-frown.

John Rae had his phone out and was checking texts.

Maggie kept one eye on him while she accessed the Agency’s global IKON network, looking for any indication that National Vice might not show.

John Rae rubbed his chin with his left hand. Vice were still en route.

Maggie took her time logging into Star Bank Online, the front that she had set up. The USB connector flickered green as an hourglass on the laptop’s screen stopped spinning.

“What is taking so long?” Beltran said in a stony voice that bounced around the big room.

“Slow satellite connection,” Maggie said. She gave John Rae a sideways glance. He rubbed his chin with his right hand, gave her an almost imperceptible nod.

Brigada del vicio nacional
were in place. She could move ahead.

Relief flowed through her otherwise acidic stomach.

She selected as payee the Amazon Wildlife Restoration Fund, a front owned by Beltran, and, while another hourglass spun, retrieved her digital-access key fob, a small device the size of a keychain, typed in yet another password, and was presented with a one-time use digital key. She entered that hexadecimal number onto another screen, stepped through more authentication, and landed on the main account page.

There it was, waiting to be kicked off: an electronic payment from Star Bank to Beltran’s façade account, based in the Isle of Jersey, British Isles: $2.1 million.

And when the documents were signed and the transaction completed, arrests would be made.

How very little money powerful men could be bought for.

Powerful weak men.

“Here we are gentlemen,” she said. “
Finally.
”

Just then, the
vip
of a text popped up on Maggie’s screen.

msg pending from Blackhorse:

Blackhorse was Ed, her Agency supervisor, back in San Francisco.

Maggie typed a quick response:
?

Blackhorse: NVC is 10-7

Maggie stared in disbelief. 10-7 was old CB-radio code for “out of service.” NVC was obviously the National Vice Squad. The vice squad wasn’t going to show after all. John Rae must have gotten some bad information. Or someone was leading him on.

She typed a quick response:
r u sure?

10-4

so no go?
she typed.

go ahead and authorize but no pending action will be taken

Beltran must have found out about the arrest. Cancelled it. But she was supposed to go ahead and give the rat two million dollars of U.S. taxpayer money anyway, and then let him, Li, and Velox go off and trash the Amazon at will.

k,
she typed to Ed.
will do

“Is there some problem?” Beltran said.

Maggie looked up at the attentive faces watching her.

“I’m so sorry, gentlemen,” she said. “But I seem to be having problems with the access code. I’m afraid we’ll have to reconvene while I look into it.”

John Rae squinted at her, trying to read her words.

She rubbed her chin with her left hand.

He did a double take, as if to say—really?

She gave a curt nod.

“What the
hell
is going on?” Velox said, bordering on a screech.

Li and Beltran drilled her with unpleasant stares. John Rae was looking at Maggie with his eyebrows raised.