Recluse:The Ramona Question

  As the man tightly wrapped his burly arms around Rodriquez' chest attempting to squeeze his ribcage and suffocate him, Rodriquez flung his head back with all his might head butting the man and freeing himself. This time, what he was about to do, was about the only thing that would level this contest. Quickly, he grabbed onto a billiard ball smashing it hard into the man's advancing forehead. Stunned, the man staggered backwards towards the glass edge, blood spewing from his face. Rodriquez knew he had the upper hand and with all the strength left inside his bruised joints, he hurled himself forward in a rapid motion smashing the bloodied billiard ball again right into the groaning man's forehead sending him toppling over the glass edge plunging into the frenzied crowds below.

  Shrieks and screams sent frightened revelers clamoring for the exit and as police sirens screeched to a halt outside the crowded club, Rodriquez and Alejandra were already three blocks away racing back to the Hotel in the blasting thunderstorm, dripping and shivering, but relieved.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Two days ago, Thursday, 8:49pm

  Rodriquez stood anxiously inside the small dimly lit cozy Hotel room his mind racing. He was still waiting for Alejandra to return. She had left at three in the afternoon to make a few errands. He had tried all the tricks of the trade in altering her appearance giving her a much older look. Her baggy clothing made her plump and they had spent the better part of the morning practicing a slight limp which made her blend in with most ordinary folk on the streets. He hoped she wouldn’t run into trouble.

  'I don’t think I can pull this off.' She had said nervously staring at him.

  'Believe me,' He'd replied staring intently into her frightened face. 'You can and you will, all you have to do is believe in yourself.'

  He'd then opened the hotel room door letting her out into the noise outside. She could have alerted the policia hoping to make a deal by handing him over, he thought, but quickly dismissed the thought. She was beyond salvage and she too knew it. She wouldn’t dare show herself to the policia. They had tried to kill her twice already.

  A firm knock came to his ears startling him.

  A gentle familiar female accompanying, 'Room service’

  'What took you so long?' Rodriquez quizzed as soon Alejandra stepped into the room. 'Are you sure no one followed you back here?'

  'No I don’t think so. My new look was good enough to fool anyone, even my very own mother.'

  'How was it?'

  'Security in and around the Square is very heavy.' She replied taking off the red wig and throwing it atop the bed. But the Id you gave me was good enough to get me through. None of the policia recognized me.' She slumped heavily on the bed.

  'Here,' she said handing the phone to Rodriquez. He took it. 'I could only take a few pictures, hope they help.'

  'These are all I needed.' Rodriquez replied flipping through the Parque Central Simon Bolívar images and of the buildings surrounding the park. 'This will do.'

  'How do you plan to stop these people Rodriquez?' Alejandra asked sitting up.

  'I don’t really have a plan.' he replied looking grim. 'Just a gut feeling, a little luck maybe but if I fail,' he turned staring towards the window, 'then am afraid the president will die and the whole of Colombia will plunge back into chaos.'

  'But you won't fail, will you?' she quizzed a sad expression plastered on her lean face.

  'Honestly I don’t want to think of the possibility of failure. I prefer to look at life in a positive light.'

  'Tell me about yourself.' he said changing the subject.

  'Do you really want to know?' she asked smiling. 'My life isn’t that interesting.'

  'Yes I do.'

  'I was brought up here, in Bogotá,' she began, 'in Altos de Cazuca, in a family of six. I had one brother who is dead and four sisters, all still alive. I am the youngest. I never knew my father, he left soon after I was born. My mother, who is a nurse by profession, still works in Altos. I dropped out of school in my sixth grade due to lack of money and I had to take up odd jobs in small hotels until I landed a job as a waitress at the Hotel Casa Galeria.'

  'No boyfriend?'

  'No, not really.' She replied. 'I don’t wish to end up like my Mother, stuck with a bunch of kids without a father to take care of them.'

  'Enough about me.' she said sighing, 'What about you Rodriquez, what is your story?'

  Rodriquez went on to tell her how he'd first met Natalia Ribeiro on her way to a local soccer game and about his daughter Mariana. He told her about Mariana’s brutal murder, Natalia's murder in the Hospital Adventista Silvestre, Miguel and how Ramona had saved his life.

  'You are a sad man Rodriquez.' Alejandra said staring at him intently. 'But I now understand why you came all the way to Colombia in search of your friend.'

  'The world, Alejandra, is a dangerous place. I often have nightmares unless I drink myself to sleep but even that at times still doesn’t help much.'

  'Do you think if your friend hadn’t gotten killed, maybe you two could have been together?'

  'What do you mean?'

  'I mean, like an item?'

  'Yes I do,' Rodriquez replied staring down at his baroques and letting out a heavy sigh, 'Yes I do.'

  ‘How sad life turns out sometimes.' She said in a low voice, her lean face furrowed.

  'Yes, very sad indeed.' He replied.

  'Okay, do catch some sleep.' Rodriquez said turning to face Alejandra. 'Tomorrow will be a long day.'

  Chapter Nineteen

  One day ago, Friday, 14:49pm

  'I’m in position.' Alejandra's mellow voice came into Rodriquez' ear as a sea of voices chanted in the background.

  'Copy that.' Rodriquez replied further adjusting the binoculars mounted on the sniper rifle to get a clear view of the raised podium a mile away in the Parque Central Simon Bolívar. His heart was pounding furiously.

  'What do you see?' He asked trying to remain calm. He knew she was scared but he had little choice. He desperately needed eyes on the ground. His mind for a moment vied to Ramona. How he missed her, if only she were here. This job would have been far easier but she wasn’t here and he had to improvise, use the help of an inexperienced waitress whose life he had placed in arms way more than once already.

  'I see lots people.' She replied. 'policia everywhere. 'Her voice sounding nervous, almost drowned by loud bangs, drums and a very loud public address system, someone was cheering on the crowds. Rodriquez, cowered inside the open hotel window, one eye pressed into the binoculars, his sweaty palms nervously clutching the cold metallic frame of the Heckler and Koch Sniper Rifle, his right index finger curved around its trigger. He needed to remain calm. His breathing was even, he had to master every movement inside his binoculars.

  'One, two, and three…' Rodriquez counted shifting his rifle at each uniformed man that came into view inside his binoculars.

  He breathed into the phone, 'do you see any one in the windows of the grey building behind the podium?'

  'Yes.' She replied, 'I see a figure, a shape holding something like a gun pointing into the crowds below.'

  'Which window?'

  ‘Fourth window to the left, fifth floor.’ she hissed into the phone.

  Rodriquez immediately shifted his rifle to face the building scanning through its binoculars and on the fifth floor directly above the podium, there it was, a shape hunched, a muzzle peering through the opened glass window angled below, it was the assassin. Rodriquez' heart raced, sweat breaking out on his brow.

  'Alright, move out, now.' he commanded into the phone. He had his mark but was he alone? He pondered. Thoughts of Ramona rushed into his head. She could have taken him out in an instant. He stared at his wrist watch; it was five minutes to three o'clock. Any moment from now President Carlos Herero Hernandez would step onto the podium to address tens of thousands of his enthusiastic supporters.

  Earlier that morning, Rodriquez had received a call from Julio Pablo.

  'Detective Rodrique
z,' the Recluse assassin had said, 'I have done thorough homework on your allegations, and, I have able to find substantive evidence of an imminent threat to the life of our leader.'

  'So, where then does that leave us?' Rodriquez asked.

  'Hold your horses Rodriquez.' Julio had interjected. 'My people and I were able to retrieve very sensitive information from General Sanguino Camilo; I believe you met with him at the police Headquarters earlier this week.'

  'I did and he works for Timoshenko.' Rodriquez answered in reply.

  'It did take a bit of persuasion on my part to extract this information from him but, only one name was I able to get from him no matter how hard I pressed him.'

  ‘César?’ Rodriquez asked anxious.

  'No Rodriquez am afraid, not César' Julio said, his voice steady. 'It was your name the General kept screaming out loud, even when I chopped both his index fingers off.'

  'You must be joking!' Rodriquez had shot back irritated.

  'No I'm not Detective Rodriquez,' Replied Julio. 'You Rodriquez are the hired assassin out to kill the president. You were only trying to divert us, divert Recluse and buy time.'

  'You are crazy you know.' Rodriquez had hissed into the phone angrily.

  'My job Detective is to bring you in.' Julio had said ignoring the insult. 'And I will do just that.'

  'You have been fooled by the FARC rebels and General Sanguino was only a pawn, the man you should be worried about is Cesar!' Rodriquez had shouted into the phone.

  'No Detective,' Julio had coolly replied. 'Cesar is right here with me. Want to say hello?' the man asked his voice sounding sarcastic.

  'Hello detective.'

  Rodriquez had instantly recognized César's deep voice on the other end of the phone. Stunned, he'd hung up without uttering another word, his mind racing as though about to explode. The Recluse was working with the FARC rebels. Rodriquez had felt weak in the knees. These two organizations were trying to get rid of the president and Rodriquez was their pawn. It wasn’t about Ramona, no, it all along had been something bigger. He had been lured into Colombia on the pretext of a ransom but now he was only beginning to see the bigger picture. Someone had to take the fall for the assassination of the president. Someone with a troubled past and an unstable mind, Someone the Colombian public and press would easily place the blame on. Why kill the duck that lays the golden egg? Rodriquez suddenly recalled César saying these very words to him. Rodriquez was the sitting duck and President Carlos Herero Hernandez was the golden egg. There was everything to gain for both these organizations from the chaos and anarchy that would follow in Colombia after the president's death. Rodriquez had walked into a trap.

  A loud roar startled Rodriquez. His view of the podium was partly blocked by a sea of yellow, blue and red colored flags swaying in all directions. He could see men in black suits rush up to the podium and stand erect in line. The president had stepped on to the podium.

  Rodriquez stared hard into the binoculars, his breathing stilled. He had run out of time. The President’s voice came loudly through the loud public address system into his ears. Rodriquez could see the man was smiling and waving at his adoring fans. Rodriquez turned to face the shape in the window, his gun too leveled at the president’s back. Rodriquez was about to send a very clear message to the whole of Colombia on National television. He steadied his fingers and pressed the trigger.

  Chapter Twenty

  Rodriquez watched Alejandra’s red haired head jerk in a swift skyward motion before disappearing in the crowds. He had shot her straight through her temple. In a rapid motion, he reloaded. The crackling of the bullet chamber sound confirming his intent before turning stealthily aiming for the figure in the window. Another single silenced gunshot, the figure disappeared behind the window. Had he hit his mark, Rodriquez pressed his eye staring through the binoculars, his heart pelting. A few seconds ticked by. Suddenly the muzzle reappeared this time pointing straight at him.

  A second later, the open window behind which he cowered cracked. He was the target. The man whoever he was, had spotted him and had fired and missed. Rodriquez ducked below, shielded by the wall. His position had been compromised. Breathing heavy, he popped back up aiming for the window but the shape had vanished. He dropped back cowering, counting to three, he knew the sniper was reloading and it was time to take the final shot and he hoped it counted, It had to count, the president's life depended on this one shot, so did millions of Colombians. He inhaled, steadied his fingers around the Heckler, turned to face the window, his eye transfixed on the shape in the window and he pressed the hard trigger.

  Dropping the heavy Heckler on the bed, he hastily made for the door flinging it open. He had watched the shape jerk backwards before vanishing. He'd sighed mightily.

  Rodriquez bolted through the hotel's narrow corridors aiming for the lobby area. He turned left but was stunned by a familiar face standing at the reception area speaking to a female attendant behind the wooden front desk. It was César. Their eyes met.

  'Stop!' César yelled his deep voice loud and stern. Rodriquez could see César holding what seemed like a Glock in his right arm. In one sudden sweep motion, Rodriquez spun round racing frantically back where he'd appeared. His mind had half expected this. He didn’t wonder that César had located him. It had been Alejandra who had informed him.

  His heart beating fast, Rodriquez raced past his hotel room headed for a blue colored door at the extreme end. Hurriedly, he opened the creaky door and slipped into a dark corridor facing east. He raced further on turning to face the staircase. He halted his ascent when he heard César bellowing orders. He was surrounded.

  Rodriquez didn’t linger any longer. He sprinted up the stairs crashing onto firmly shut doors, a grim expression flashed across his face as he raced further up, this time headed for the narrow rusty metallic door at the top most floor. He'd been here the night before to scan the Hotel's flat roof just in case he needed to make a hasty exit from the building. Heavy thuds could be heard thundering below. César and his troops were also headed up the stair case.

  Panting profusely, Rodriquez burst out through the narrow door onto the flat concrete roof top. Loud gusts of wind pelted his fleeing body. He could see hordes of concrete and glass buildings glittering in the red evening sun light, his mind racing. The metallic door behind him burst open making a crackling sound before César's menacing face appeared followed by four other shapes, guns drawn. Fully exposed, Rodriquez had to his right, a few feet away, a large disused rusty rectangular shaped water tank plastered on the flat roof. Cowering behind it for cover, Rodriquez nervously watched as a panting César and his comrades spread out on the roof each facing different sides, fingers on gun triggers. Rodriquez was trapped.

  The roar of the crowds in the distance did little to calm the beating of Rodriquez' heart as the men closed in on him from different directions. Any time they were bound to spot him. He felt a lump tug in his neck as the frustration of being unarmed at such a critical moment could only mean one thing, his demise. Even if he tried to surrender, these men were not officers of the law or Soldiers, no, rather, these were mercenaries, hit-men who had no others rules but the rule of death. Shoot to kill, no questions asked.

  Rodriquez had just foiled their plan, first, Alejandra, before shooting the assassin hired to take out the president. There was no way César would let him leave or live.

  A sudden loud hissing rattle and crackling sound came to his ears, and as it grew louder, he felt a strong wind press against his skin and clothes. It was very close, a helicopter. Indeed it was when suddenly round hazy rapidly spinning rings appeared from below. Then he saw her, aboard a military green Helicopter, holding what looked like an M4 Carbine firearm, seated in the door-less back side, Ramona.

  For a brief moment he envisioned her expressionless face and that spicy fragrance she always wore. He thought he was dreaming, it just couldn’t be, Ramona, alive?

  'Jump!' He heard her strained voice come to his e
ars above the loud Helicopter's loud rattles. It was hovering a few feet away from the building. A sudden flurry of gun shots buzzed all round him some ricocheted noisily against the tank and floor. César had spotted him. He cowered further behind the metallic tank. Ramona returned fire from the chopper, he heard one of the men groan, before it raced below ducking from César and his men. Again, almost immediately, the chopper was back, this time angled.

  'Rodriquez! Jump!' Ramona screamed again. He could see her wind beaten blond ponytail as she urged him on, one arm holding onto the Carbine, the other firmly gripping the helicopter's metal door edge. He knew he wouldn't survive if he stayed hidden here, soon they would draw him out. He had to move.

  His heart pelting within him, Rodriquez put on a sudden burst of speed heading for the edge of the flat roof. He leaped, flinging himself with all his strength skyward. Sounds of shots fired came from an M4 Carbine firearm, a Glock and other guns he couldn’t readily identify. Gun shots aimed at him, his arms and legs out stretched in midair towards the chopper, he missed plummeting heavily downwards. He felt a sudden powerful grip; Ramona had grasped his left arm. Stinging pain shot through his arm as his ball and socket joint twisted awkwardly, his torso slamming painfully onto the chopper's metal skater blade.

  'Got you!' He heard Ramona shout as more bullets pelted the chopper's frame shattering its glass. Relieved but still not out of danger, Rodriquez dangled on as the chopper nose-dived out of danger.

  'Hold on!' Ramona screamed as Rodriquez painfully tugged his other arm onto her lean arms, winds blasting his swaying body. Glancing below, he could see droves of vehicles and onlookers clustered about. Above, Ramona looked in acute pain trying to support his weight. He felt her pull hard raising him upward.

  Finally, he managed to grab onto the chopper's metallic edge pulling the rest of his body with him before dropping heavily onto its cold metallic floor.

  'Jesus! Ramona!' Rodriquez exclaimed as soon as he turned to face her smiling face. 'You're alive!'