“Hold on, Ms. Muller.” He covered the mouthpiece and said to Taylor, “I want to spend the night in Kavak like Carmen did. I want to reconstructher trip, take some photos, see how you get a boat, see how fast the river flows—”
“I think we can do that in one day. But… all right.Onenight. Then we leave in the morning. No boat trip on the river.”
He nodded, and said to Ms. Muller, “The next morning. Returning to Caracas.” But probably Bogotá, Colombia, though that was not information Brodie wanted to share with Ms. Muller or anyone.
“Then the pilot should stay overnight.” She explained, “Even with you paying for the pilot’s overnight accommodations, that will be less expensive for you.”
“The pilot can sleep with my wife.”
“Sir?”
“Just a bird-watcher joke. Okay, so can do?”
“I need to contact the pilot to check his and the aircraft’s availability before confirming any booking.”
Brodie wondered if this was the same pilot that Kyle Mercer used to fly to Ciudad Bolívar, or from there down to Kavak. That would be interesting. He said, “A friend of mine went from Caracas to Kavak by first flying to Ciudad Bolívar, then he took a smaller plane to Kavak. Why would he do that?”
Ms. Muller replied, “He may have taken a scheduled commercial flight to Ciudad Bolívar, then gone on to Kavak by private charter because there are no commercial flights to Kavak.”
“Why would he do that instead of flying a charter directly from Caracas to Kavak as I want to do?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I do. He was trying to cover his tracks.”
“Sir?”
“Just thinking out loud.” He asked, “Is your pilot a local guy?”
“No, sir. He’s an American. Captain John F. Collins. FAA certified, very experienced—”
“Good. Down here taxi drivers are allowed to fly a plane.”
“Really?”
Brodie wondered what John F. Collins was doing in Caracas. Probably running drugs or guns. The world of private aviation, especially in thirdworld countries, was a world of no questions asked. He thought about Worley’s pilot and the Otter. “Does Captain Collins have access to an Otter?”
“I’m not familiar with that aircraft. Are you requesting an Otter?”
“No. I’m just asking dumb questions. Okay, so can you get hold of Captain Collins and get us out of Caracas tonight?”
“When I contact Captain Collins, I’ll get back to you. But you won’t be able to make a night landing in Kavak.” She reminded him, “There are no runway lights.”
“Okay… then let’s plan the flight to land at dawn. I need to be in Kavak early to catch the yellow-bellied Worleys.” He added, “They hide during the day.”
Taylor said to him, “You’re cuckoo.”
Ms. Muller said, “All right… let me see if I can contact Captain Collins, and see if we can accommodate you.”
“Do what has to be done, Ms. Muller.”
“Yes, sir.” She recapped: “You will want the pilot to stay overnight and return to Caracas the next day with the same two passengers. Correct?”
“As far as I know.”
“I ask about the number of passengers because of the short airstrip and the takeoff weight.”
Should he mention that they might have a two-hundred-pound former Delta Force soldier stuffed in the luggage hold in cuffs? Probably not. “Okay.”
