“This I do not know. I just heard the name.”
Local history buffs? Maybe. Probably not. Researching the relevance of nineteenth-century Venezuelan military figures and explaining to Brodie why he should give a shit sounded like a job for Taylor.
Taylor asked Luis, “Any other names?”
“No, señora.”
“Any names of places? Cities? Countries? Like Kabul?”
“No… but—yes, one I remember. Flagstaff.”
Brodie asked Luis, “Flagstaff, Arizona?”
Luis shrugged. “I have heard of this place in America but… I did not understand the meaning.”
Taylor and Brodie looked at each other. Brodie asked Luis, “Who said Flagstaff?”
“Both gentlemen.”
Well, thought Brodie, Flagstaff was a nice place, and maybe Worley and Ted were planning a visit. But Luis said he did not understand the meaning, which could mean he didn’t understand the context, and that could mean Flagstaff was the code name of something, or someone, as was often the case in this business. Or that he, Brodie, had been in this business too long and he was starting to see secret messages in the entrails, which were actually full of shit. Time for a beer.
They arrived at the El Dorado Hotel, and the doorman opened the back door for Brodie and Taylor as Luis let himself out of the car.
Taylor said to Luis, “You are an excellent driver and a very knowledgeable guide.”
Luis smiled. “Gracias, señora.”
She asked him, “Have you made a decision about tonight?”
“Sí. What time tonight?”
Brodie replied, “Seven.”
Taylor said to Luis, “If you change your mind, leave a message for us no later than threeP.M.”
“I will see you at seven.”
Brodie wanted to tell Taylor to stop giving Luis options. Luis had made his decision and he was picturing himself in a supermarket in Miami or San Diego with his family safe and sound, filling their shopping cart with frozen TV dinners and two-liter bottles of RC Cola. The American Dream.
Brodie looked at Luis. Luis was important to the mission—but bottom line, he was a civilian with a wife and two kids, and just because he owned a gun didn’t mean he knew how to use it. So Brodie, in a weak moment, said, “It’s okay if you change your mind.”
“Seven.”
Brodie nodded and made eye contact with Luis. “Whatever you heard or saw today is not to be discussed with anyone.”
Luis nodded.
“And we will all forget what you said to us in the car about Señor Worley and his visitor.”
Again Luis nodded.
Brodie said to him, “Go to a car rental place and get a nice sedan. Black, tinted windows if possible, and a big engine. And a big trunk.” Brodie gave him six hundred American dollars. “Keep the change.”
“Gracias.”
“And don’t forget your pistola—or the cross.”
Luis smiled, got in his car, and drove off.
