Collins said, “Thanks, but… she’ll want to stay here.”
More likely she wouldn’t be asked. Sounded like the captain was signaling to the ex–Mrs. Bowman that he’d drop his beauty queen for her. Maggie Taylor’s good looks were not always a liability to the mission.
Well, thought Brodie, it seemed that the deal was done, and they could rely on Captain Collins. And if not—if he got cold feet and took off—therewas always Brendan Worley to call on for an air extraction. Or a jungle hike to the Brazilian border, which might be a more reliable extraction than dealing with Worley.
Brodie noticed that Taylor had actually eaten all three fried eggs, along with her bowl of mush. “Leave the rest for the Pemón. They dip their darts in it.”
She looked at Collins and rolled her eyes.
César suddenly appeared and, without invitation, sat next to Collins. “See passport.”
Collins reached into his bag and produced his American passport, which César flipped through, then copied Collins’ name and passport number onto his growing roster. He looked at the pilot. “I see you one time.”
“I have been here before.”
“Sí. This time you stay.”
Collins nodded.
“I have good room for you.” He tapped Collins’ epaulettes. “You important man.” He laughed.
Collins smiled. “I am a pilot.”
“Sí, you have travel permits?”
Collins looked at Brodie, who said, “I think I left them in my other plane.”
Taylor said to César, “We just decided at the last minute to come here.” She then spoke to him in Spanish, and César listened, then responded. Taylor said to Brodie, “We were not allowed to fly here without a permit, so we must leave—or pay a fifty-dollar fine.” She added, “Per person, per day. Pilot included.”
“If we leave, do we get our money back for the room?”
“Clark, darling, just pay the fine.”
“Okay.” He looked at César. “We’ll pay for one day.”
“Pay now.”
Brodie pulled out his wallet and counted out a hundred and fifty dollars. Obviously César had learned how to make a few extra bucks on his government-regulated national park job. Therefore it shouldn’t be a problem for Brodie and Taylor to rent a boat without a guide. This was César’s World, and he made the rules.
César pocketed the money, then eyed the bowls of mush. “You no like?”
Brodie said to him, “My wife and I would like to rent a boat, and we’ll take that with us.”
César nodded. “Boat and guide. Five dollar.”
Collins had said it was a dollar, but César was on a roll and he knew suckers when he saw them. He also knew he wasn’t going to get an extra euro from the German tourists, so today was payday. Brodie said to him, “We don’t need a guide.”
“Need guide.” César said something to Taylor, who translated, “It’s the law.”
“So is the permit.” He said to César, “Twenty dollars. No guide.”
But César seemed adamant on this point. “No guide, no boat.”
“Sounds like the Pemón guides have a strong union.”
César spoke to Taylor, who translated: “It’s a safety issue.” She added, “He would be responsible if we got lost or hurt.”
“How could we possibly get hurt in the jungle?”
