Recluse:The Ramona Question

  ‘I don’t know you.’ She answered moving back a step. ‘And besides, the policia has been asking questions about you ever since those two men died back at the Hotel.’

  ‘Okay, I'll find my way somehow or stay here.’ Rodriquez answered in reply. ‘But thank you for saving my life. That was very brave of you.’

  ‘Alright, you can stay at my place.’ She said. ‘But just for tonight and I can’t believe I’m doing this.'

  ‘Thank you Senorita.’

  ‘I’m Alejandra by the way.’

  Alejandra’s apartment was in the neighborhood of La Candelaria. The flashy painted building they entered evoked local architecture design and opposite was similar, ancient indigenous looking buildings.

  ‘The street outside is called El Callejón del Embudo, dates from the seventieth century.’

  ‘Are you a history student?’ Rodriquez inquired as he settled nervously into the small but cozy living space. Alejandra turned towards him and smiled.

  ‘Are you an Investigator?’ She asked ignoring his question.

  ‘As a matter of fact I am.’ Rodriquez answered. ‘I am Brazilian and I came here searching for a friend of mine who was abducted by the FARC.’

  At the mention of the Rebel group Alejandra’s face transformed. She looked petrified.

  ‘What is wrong?’ Rodriquez said. ‘Did I say something offensive?’

  ‘No, am sorry,’ she replied, ‘it’s just me.’ She turned walking into the small open kitchen.

  ‘Please, continue.’ she said her back turned towards him.

  'Her abductors demanded one million American.’

  ‘Did you give it to them?’ She asked walking back holding in her hands two velvet creamy frosty cold glasses with straws. ‘Forgive me I don’t drink alcohol and wasn’t expecting any guests.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Rodriquez answered taking one of the curved glasses. A chill run through his entire hand as he settled to suck onto the plastic straw. A strawberry deliciousness of the cold milkshake hit his eager taste buds. Placing the glass delicately onto the small cotton covered table in front of him on the gray leather sofa, he stared at his host who too had settled in next to him. She was sipping delicately onto her straw.

  ‘I do not have such amounts of money. I’m a police detective for Christ sake.’

  ‘So what did you do?’

  ‘I decided to come and find her.’

  ‘You are crazy I’m sorry to say.’ She replied. ‘No one on their own can enter into FARC territory and retrieve an abducted person. Even the Colombian government is afraid of the FARC.’

  'I never intended to go into FARC territory.' Rodriquez replied. 'When I first arrived ten days ago, my friend's abductors had given me strict instructions as to where I was to contact them, give them the money in exchange of the life of my friend, but when I arrived here, things got a little complicated. First, I was mugged, then a woman who witnessed the mugging was shot dead right in front of me.’

  ‘Oh God!’ She gasped. 'The woman I saw on the news shot inside a building!’

  ‘Yes, that was her.’ Rodriquez replied.

  ‘Did you report the matter to the authorities?’

  ‘Yes I did, but when I got back to the Casa Galeria, the two strange looking men you saw and alerted me about, I found out, had carried out the hit and were at the Casa to kill me.’

  ‘So it was you who killed those men?’ She asked her hazel eyes pierced into his. 'I won’t tell. Just tell me the truth.’

  ‘Yes I did.’ Rodriquez answered in replied. ‘They were assassins sent to kill me.’

  ‘Sent by whom?’ She pressed, ‘your friend’s abductors?’

  ‘Another group called Recluse.’ Rodriquez replied. ‘A secret organization my abducted friend worked for.’

  ‘Does your friend have a name?’

  ‘Ramona.’

  ‘So, Ramona’s employers want you dead.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘This is strange.’

  ‘How did you know it was them?’

  ‘I interrogated one of the Assassins.’

  ‘The one I found hanging upside down inside the Hotel room tied to a chandelier?’

  Rodriquez didn’t reply.

  ‘I think you are a dangerous man Rodriquez, and I just might have signed my own death certificate by letting you in here.’ She spoke standing up; she proceeded to clear the table of the now emptied glasses.

  'What happened to your friend?'

  'She was killed.' He replied staring down at his Baroques. 'Government planes attacked and bombed to the ground the camp where she was being held.’

  ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘It’s not your fault.’

  ‘So how did you end up following me?’

  'I had no one I could trust, even the policia here seem to be on the Recluse’s payroll.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘It’s complicated.’

  ‘You know you can’t stay here longer than one night.’

  ‘I am forever grateful for your hospitality but I have some matter I need to settle before I leave Colombia for good and for that matter, I will need you to do me one last favor.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  Five days ago, Monday, 10:34 am

  Rodriquez sat unobserved hidden behind the El Espectador daily inside a discreet vehicle parked across the street, his eyes fixed on the Bogota Police Headquarters' main entrance. A familiar face had just walked into the station to his horror. A few minutes went by in the hot and dry Colombian morning weather as he watched two police men brandishing assault rifles standing outside in the heat staring menacingly at whoever walked in and out of the complex. It seemed they were protecting the man now inside the station.

  Alejandra had agreed to drop the note addressed to the Bogota police chief General Sanguino Camilo which note contained details of a brutal plan, the favor Rodriquez had been asked to carry out by the leader of FARC Soviet marshal Semyon Timoshenko. The message delivered to him by César Hernandez shortly before turning on Rodriquez and Raul Gilibert accusing both of treachery.

  Rodriquez was aware the plan hadn’t changed and he needed to warn the authorities in good time. His challenge was who to trust in the Colombian police. He needed a decoy and Alejandra was the perfect choice. She was young, gullible and kind hearted. She had easily fallen for his trick after he paid off a hoodlum to pose as a burglar attempting to frisk and rob him the previous night, even letting him into her apartment. In him, she saw a victim, an unfortunate man who needed her help. She also had readily agreed he use her car to carry both of them to the police headquarters. She too was now inside the station.

  Rodriquez felt it was only right that the police chief ought to know and take all the necessary precautions. The stakes were very high and he didn’t want anything to do with it. At least he thought to himself, it was an honorary way of remembrance of Ramona. His heart stiffened at the thought of her. She was a brave woman. The only woman he possibly could have loved in place of his wife, but now she too was dead.

  His thoughts however had been rudely interrupted by the shape he saw enter into the police Headquarters. The sight had sent his heart thumping so hard he had immediately began to perspire. Who was César Hernandez possibly here to see? He felt like jumping out of the small green Chevrolet spark. As he continued to observe the entrance, something caught his eye. Shifting his gaze to a black sedan parked a few meters away from main entrance, all its windows sealed, opaque. It looked out of place. He hadn’t noticed it earlier. Something wasn’t right. He tensed. Suddenly, it reversed to the entrance blocking his view of the police entrance. Nervous, he quickly engaged the spark's gears moving slowly ahead, he wanted to see what was happening. He was startled by a terrified Alejandra appearing at the main entrance tightly held walking between two armed officers and a grim faced César following behind. She was shoved into the black sedan before it
s tires screeched off the tarmac joining the morning traffic.

  His heart racing, Rodriquez engaged the spark's gears joining the lane two cars behind the sedan. Using one arm to drive, Rodriquez quickly unzipped the green bag that housed the Heckler and Koch Sniper Rifle, the one Selli had arranged delivered to him.

  He floored the spark's accelerator. He had to get behind the sedan. The sedan was moving fast and he knew if he lost sight of it, Alejandra would be a corpse by nightfall. The sedan swung left joining another street.

  Rodriquez' heart pounded even faster as he tightened his grip around the spark’s thick rubber steering wheel. He engaged another gear, overtook the two vehicles ahead of him in one sweep and was now right behind the sedan. Two blocks later, the sedan swung left before taking a sharp right, Rodriquez followed still, his mind racing. It seems the occupants in the sedan had noticed he was tailing them and were trying to lose him. He had to do something. Accelerating hard, he rammed the spark into the rear of the speeding sedan. It lost balance crashing spectacularly into an oncoming vehicle. The force of the collision was so loud sending both cars spinning and ramming into other parked vehicles. Car sirens went off loudly bringing with them plums of black smoke. Rodriquez screeched the spark's handbrake violently bringing it to an almost sudden halt but not before it spun to the right facing sideways. The smell of burning rubber filled his cabin as he steadied himself, the Heckler sniper rifle in his right arm aimed at the smoking black sedan whose front window and windscreen he could see were shattered.

  A loud barrage of gunshots rung around him, the occupants of the sedan were firing at him. He ducked before returning a flurry of shots aimed at the driver's window. Screams and shouts filled the air as pedestrians and motorists caught up in the crossfire scampered for safety. He steadied himself and this time aimed for the rear window. He hoped Alejandra had ducked. It was so risky but it was a risk he was willing to take. His mind reeled from the possibility of killing her in the process but rather she died in the shootout than be tortured to death for something she hardly knew anything about. A head popped out, muzzle in hand, aimed at him. Rodriquez ducked, reloaded, reappeared, and again aimed for the shattered rear window pressing the Heckler's trigger. The head disappeared. The sound of police sirens could be heard in the distance above the commotion and gunshots. They were headed this way. No sound however came from the sedan. Rodriquez scampered out of the spark, gun in hand, loaded, still pointed and run towards the sedan.

  'Alejandra!' He called out loud as soon as he caught sight of her cowering in the bullet ridden sedan's back seat, terrified but alive. 'Are you hurt?'

  'I don’t know!' She cried. Rodriquez could see a bloodied gaping corpse of one of her captors pressed against her. At the front, another corpse, this time of the driver. César was nowhere in sight. Frustrated, Rodriquez returned his pained gaze back to Alejandra.

  'Quick come with me.' He commanded forcing the bullet riddled rear door open and dragging her out onto the street. They ran back towards the spark. Inside, Rodriquez in haste, brought the spark back to life, jammed its gears and floored the accelerator, past the now burning cars and sped off headed towards the city center, his eyes darting anxiously into the driver's mirror for any sign of police vehicles trailing behind.

  'Who are you, really?' Alejandra asked. Rodriquez could see a look of alarm flash across her gentle lean oval face. They had driven out of Bogotá's central district to Soacha on the southern edge of the City, in the Cundinamarca department. Her bloodied pink sweater clung tightly onto her lean features as she sat shivering in the parked spark. She kept staring intently into his eyes. Iron clad shacks surrounded them as Rodriquez kept brooding over the dramatic turn of events. His mind was swirling on the possible whereabouts of César.

  'I think we need to go separate ways.' He said ignoring her question, ‘for your safety.'

  Rodriquez could see the terror in her eyes. He placed his right arm gently on her left shoulder. She still was shaking.

  'Look, I am not who you think I am.' Rodriquez said remorseful. 'Who I am is not important, but there are things I still need to take care of, things which involve the safety of, well, many in Colombia.'

  'Where will I go Sir?'

  'Don’t you have any one you trust, someone who can hide you while this thing cool off?' He asked turning to stare at her. Deep within him, he knew her chances of survival were minimal. The authorities, corrupt as they were, would not rest until they had hunted her down and killed her. She had become a person of interest. What bothered Rodriquez even more as he took out a stash of pesos placing them in her trembling hands was César. Where had he disappeared to?

  He was the man it seems tasked with carrying out the deed in place of Rodriquez and since the police chief had handed Alejandra over to César upon reading the note, Rodriquez was now certain of the Colombian polices' involvement which meant he had no allies left. He was on his own and carrying Alejandra around would only slow him down.

  He turned to look into her face one last time, a face he knew he probably will never see again.

  'Thank you Alejandra.' he said lifting the green bag from the back seat which housed the Heckler sniper rifle, pushed open the driver's car door and stepped out into the afternoon warm breeze. He was running out of time, he needed to get back into the city Centre.

  Chapter Fifteen

  10:34 pm

  Rodriquez emerged from the vehicle, a cab. He felt his heart blast away inside his chest. He bit his lower lip trying to control the fear inside him. He had to stay calm. The man, Rodriquez was here to see was none other than Bogota police Chief General Sanguino Camilo. Rodriquez had earlier called into the Station and ascertained the police chief was still inside. He stood still, his eyes fixed on the police entrance. The Colombian windy chill had returned blasting against his black khaki trouser and neatly tucked in short sleeved shirt. He took a deep breath, steadied his black policia cap before walking hurriedly towards the open doors, 'Stay calm' he ordered.

  Inside the station, Rodriquez was saluted by two officers walking past him headed towards the exit. The Subintendente rank plastered on his black shirt made him superior to most inside the surprisingly crowded open space area. His big brown eyes scanned every one going about their call duties, most were on phones, and others relaxed sipping onto coffee mugs.

  He walked straight on through a quieter section before entering into a red carpeted corridor with gleaming florescent lights through to the very end of the corridor. He halted at the shut door which announced in gold plated inscriptions, GENERAL SANGUINO CAMILO.

  The man’s face, Rodriquez observed as he stood saluting, seemed rather odd. He had plump cheekbones, dark almond-shaped eyes and a thick graying beard.

  ‘Superintendent Gustavo.' Rodriquez announced raising his body stiff, his salute sharp.' I made an appointment earlier today on the phone.'

  ‘Yes am listening.' the General said, his huge head nodding as he leaned back behind his lavishly decorated mahogany table, his stare quizzical.

  Rodriquez had earlier called into the station with one message, a message for the General from César. This had gotten him here.

  ‘You may want to take this.’ Rodriquez said handing the General a folded chit.

  General Sanguino Camilo’s hand stretched out to receive the chit before diving to read its contents. His face turned furrowed before his eyes widened with alarm.

  'Why the sudden change of plans?' the General asked staring up at Rodriquez. Rodriquez remained Silent. The General turned his heavy frame uneasily in his seat. Rodriquez noticed he was nervous.

  ‘Look! tell Soviet marshal Semyon Timoshenko,' the General said emphatically, 'He is right here, after, it will be next to impossible to get him.’

  'Timoshenko is worried,' Rodriquez said coolly, 'that our plan may have been compromised.'

  ‘No amigo,’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Rodriquez quizzed.

  ‘Iam talking about the Braz
ilian, Rodriquez.' the General replied. 'Our dear Timoshenko need not worry, that one will be taken care of.'

  'By who?' Rodriquez became wide-eyed. He couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.

  ‘What do you mean by whom?’ the General asked staring intently into Rodriquez’ eyes.

  ‘Timoshenko wants to know how you will neutralize Rodriguez. Listen, that man, earlier today intercepted our people, killed two of our men and rescued the girl.’ Rodriquez spoke but could feel his breathing falter.

  'I know.’ the General replied brooding, ‘our people are hunting for the girl but as for Rodriquez, we have been asked to stay clear of him.'

  ‘Asked by whom?' Rodriquez inquired.

  'Some very powerful people' The General answered. ‘People who have influence all the way to the very top here in Colombia,' the General continued, 'a man who goes by the names Julio Pablo, I think that's his name, runs things. He personally called and asked me to stay off Rodriquez. He said that man was their business and theirs only and when he says such, he usually means business. No one escapes that organization, not even Rodriquez. I can assure you, his days are numbered.'

  'Timoshenko is not one to take promises lightly,' Rodriquez interjected. 'Give me Julio's number. My leader needs all reassurances.'

  'Alright, I'll write it down for you.' General Camilio bent scribbling onto the very note Rodriquez had earlier handed to him. He stretched his hairy hand out towards Rodriquez, chit in his hand.

  'Thank you.' Rodriquez said taking the chit back.

  'I must report back immediately,' Rodriquez said, 'await our signal.'

  'I will.'

  'Comrade César sends his regards.' Rodriquez added turning to leave. He needed to know if César had indeed escaped the attack on the sedan.

  'Me too.' replied the General.

  That was enough, César was still alive.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Four days ago, Tuesday, 4:14pm

  Rodriquez' mind was swirling. He had just gotten off the phone, speaking to Julio Pablo.

  ‘Is this Julio?' Rodriquez had said as soon as the person at the other end of the line answered.