The Big White Lie by Michael Levine

Author:Michael Levine [Michael Levine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780985238605
Publisher: BookBaby
Published: 2012-11-15T06:00:00+00:00

19

Off the Target

1

Monday morning I awoke to the ringing of the phone.

“Don Miguel?” It was Ana calling from Miami. She’d wasted no time arranging the huge morphine-and-marijuana deal with Pacho Cuervas. She must have just gotten off the phone with Colombia. She was breathing in quick, short breaths.

“All you have to do is tell me a date when you and your pilot will come. Everything is set. Do you understand, Miguel?”

“Ana, I just woke up. Please forgive me.”

“No, forgive me for calling so early. I wanted to make sure.”

“You know I still have to finish this business here first.”

“I know all that, but this is important, Miguel. This is a very big opportunity. I didn’t want you and Sonia to lose—not something like this. I spoke to Pacho himself and he’s very enthusiastic. He knows all about Sonia, and I told him about you. He’s anxious to meet you.”

I thought about how long it might take to get the suits to understand the operation, let alone support it. “What I’m saying . . . I just don’t want him to be upset if I’m a couple of days late.”

“No, he’ll understand. All he needs is the date of your arrival. He’ll have his own plane waiting to meet you. They’ll take you right there.”

“Tremendo, Ana. Fenomino,” I said. “We’ll do it.”

Ana laughed. “Pacho wants to have a party in your honor.”

“I’ll be there, Ana,” I said. “Let me just take care of the business here and I’m on my way.”

“Please don’t fail me, Miguel. I vouched for you personally, you know what that means? In their eyes you’re already accepted.”

“Don’t worry Ana,” I said. “You won’t be sorry.”

Ana, like the good comisionista she was, was busily laying the groundwork for me with a lot of traffickers—not just Cuervas. There was no telling how far into the Colombian drug world our trip to Cartagena might take us.

“I know, Miguel. Un beso grande, mi amor.”

“Un abrazo, mamita.”

“Aiii, wait Miguel. I have someone here who wants to say hello.”

“Miguel?” said a young woman’s voice, with a lilt of laughter. I’m Candy. I don’t know what you did to my mother, but she can’t stop talking about you,” she said in lightly accented English.

“Well, she did the same to me, Candy.”

“You sound like a sweet guy. I’m looking forward to meeting you.”

“Me too,” I said, my throat going tight.

The instant I put the phone down it rang again.

“Sir, I’m looking for someone named Erica,” said a woman’s voice in English. Erica was one of Lydia’s undercover names, and we had used it for the answering service.

“What’s it in reference to?”

“Sir, are you one of the people who have the answering service?”

“Yes,” I said, “what’s this about?”

“I just wanted to tell you that our Spanish-speaking operators are getting some upsetting calls; the callers are abusive and . . .”

“Are those the calls from Miami?” I said, cutting her off.

“Yes, I believe they are. A Mr. Pineda.”

Pineda had been calling leaving progressively angrier messages. In his last one he had said, “This isn’t something that will go away.

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