Mike Smith Is Dead—Pt. 33

“So,” Marcos put his feet on the next chair. “I picked up an old 1972 Antonov An-12 Cub transport at Aeropuerto Internacional Monseñor Óscar Arnulfo Romero in El Salvator and the hanger it was in was next to this football field. There were a bunch of kids, about seventeen or eighteen years old I’d say, playing. Anyway a ball bounces over the fence and I picked it up and carried to the kid waiting, I thought for sure I was looking into the face of a young Roger Olson. I remembered that face from 1984. The kid said in English “hey, mister,” then he switched to Spanish and asked for the ball.”

“As in the former Vice President?” Kip was suddenly interested in Marcos’ latest tale.”

“With a mellow skin tone.”

“Olson was married to a local woman in El Salvador but that was in the 80s,” Kip was figuring. “You said the kid was seventeen or eighteen?”

“Uh huh.”

“His kids would be older; his wife had a daughter by a first marriage, but that was a girl and I think she was in college as I remember.” Kip jotted on a pad.

Giles held up a finger. “He married a woman in the United States. As I remember, that woman had lost her husband in the Gulf war, but had a daughter. You have to follow the gossip magazines to get real news.”

Rosa tipped her coffee cup. “Just speculating. What if he had a friend in Latin America?”

Giles tapped her arm. “Shameful. But, maybe I should add something to this discussion. When I took the cell phone off of the dead man in my apartment it had a text message, I returned the message then looked at the sent number, and dialed it. Olson answered. So, I knew he was trying to kill me. But, then he was supposedly killed in that boating explosion. Now, I’m thinking there’s something fishy there. And guess what, I have the SIM card out of the killer’s phone.”

Marcos grinned. “A phone book.”

Kip held up his coffee cup. “Locations. Giles I could kiss you.”

Giles shook her finger. “Plastic surgery isn’t healed yet.”

Everyone laughed.

“Do you have pictures of the Vice President too.”

Giles gave him a funny look. “No why would I. Google does though. What do you need?”

“I need to find someone to make him look eighteen years old.”

Roberto, who had been guarding the door, spoke up. “I have a son who can make a computer dance. I don’t know what he needs to do, but I can ask.”

Minutes later the group were standing around Felipe’s computer in Roberto’s home. With an internet image of the Vice President the young man easily maneuvered it through his imaging software and produced a print of what the current Vice President might have looked like as a young man. Additionally, Felipe found a picture of Roger Olson from a 1980 college yearbook on line. The images were nearly the same.

Kip handed the young man a note and a $20 bill. “See if you can find Jorge Salas in Panama, he used to be a banker in San Jose.”

The young man smiled. “I’ll try.”

Giles was busy on the telephone securing information from the SIM card. “Hey, his phone book included several in Washington DC, Miami, and El Salvador. I’m seeing if a geek friend at the FCC can find me the tower the El Salvador calls came from.”

Marcos shook his keys, “If we find him, then what?”

Kip shook his head. “Marcos is right, he has plausible deniability; he won’t admit anything.”

“That’s terrible,” cried Rosa. He killed my brother, sister n’ law, and best friend.”

Kip smiled. “And me.”

Giles patted Rosa on the back, “And me.”

Marcos looked down. “And, Sam. If I saw him today I would shoot him in the foot and knee and shoulder and elbow; because I would want him to feel the pain.”

Rosa whispered. “We need Father Luis. I’m at a loss.”

“If nothing else he has 475 million of American money, or what’s left of it.”

“I guess we go to El Salvador to watch a football match.” Marcos headed for the door. “I have a beat up old transport at the airport if anyone wants to ride with me.”

“Roberto, you’re in charge,” Kip waved and took Rosa’s hand, “I guess we’re taking a vacation.”

Kip, Rosa, Giles and Marcos got in Kip’s SUV and minutes later were at the airport private plane hanger. By night they were seated at the Quality hotel lobby near the airport.

“Dinner’s on me,” said Kip, “I forgot I still these prepaid Visa cards, shish.” The group headed out the door for a short walk to Los Balcones restaurant. Two hours later they were taking a leisurely walk back to the hotel and passed a bar. The young Olson look alike was standing with a crowd of young people.

Marcos stopped. “Look.”

The other three casually glanced in the bar and saw the same young man as Marcos had noticed. Giles left the group and casually walked up to the young man.

She touched his hand. “I’m sorry to bother you but do you know you look just like a gentleman I used to know.”

The young man stammered at the comment by a beautiful older woman. “Uh, some people say I look like my dad.”

Giles grinned. “Wow, if he’s still alive ask him if he ever met a woman named Giles.”

“I’ll see him tonight, I’ll mention it. I won’t forget.” The young man stammered.

She touched his hand again and glided away. The young man’s eyes never left her.

Rosa, Kip, and Marcos were laughing at the side of the bar and café when Giles approached.

“I think maybe we should follow this young man home. Hopefully, he goes home,” Giles purred.

“If you came up to me in a bar and said those sort of things I’d follow you home.” Marcos chuckled.

Rosa grinned. “Men are all the same.”

They walked back to their hotel and Giles with Kip and Rosa got in the rental car and generally watched the bar. “Oh, gee a stake out, more spy stuff,” quipped Rosa.

Marcos taxied to the airport to check on the airplane and talk to his company.

---

At ten that evening a group of young people left the bar and all headed in different directions, attentively heading home. “School night,” quipped Kip.

The young man they were following got in an older model Porsche and sped into the night. Kip wanted to stay considerably behind but the Porsche disappeared. So, they drove in the general direction, quickly running out of the city and heading toward large homes on the beach. Kip noted taillights at a gate. As they approached the property a gate opened fully and the Porsche drove through. Kip then drove to an intersecting road and turned around and then parked on the side of the street.

“Okay, what now?” Rosa asked.

“We wait and see what happens next.” Kip pointed at the house. Lights going on.”

They had only been sitting there a few minutes when there was a tap at Giles passenger window. The barrel of an Uzi was pointed at her. She rolled down the window.

“Mr. Olson wants to speak with you.” He pointed the gun at Kip. “You too.” Another man with an Uzi stood at the front fender of the car.

Rosa gulped and closed her eyes. Apparently, the armed man didn’t see her in the back seat and she leaned over. But, the man would see her when the light came on. She carefully slid to the floorboard and hoped the men would step back when Kip and Giles opened the doors.

Kip and Giles exited at the same time and closed the doors quickly behind them and walked into the street.

One of the men pointed toward the open gate. “Walk.”

Giles and Kip walked close together a few feet ahead of the two men and weapons.

Rosa called Marcos. “Armed men just took Kip and Giles into the house.

“Are you in front of the house now?”

“We’re parked about twenty meters away, facing the property. It’s the only house for a kilometer in each direction.” Rosa looked over her shoulder. “Really isolated, the back of the house faces the beach, the front is a dirt road, but the house is several meters away from the road and guarded by a wall.”

“Okay, in about ten minutes I’m going to fly down the coast line. I’ll fly really low. When you see me, flash the headlights of the car off and on slowly. Hopefully, I’ll see them. The next time I’ll fly across the house with my landing lights on. That’ll scare’m. Hope Giles or Kip sees my first pass by.”

“I’m facing the South. So are you going to fly in from the South?”

“That’s the idea. I’ll tell the tower I am flying along the beach to check gear and give them a low altitude. The fly over will be kinda outa bounds but hopefully a controller doesn’t notice.”

Rosa crawled into the front seat. “Okay, am waiting.”

“You’ll probably hear this thing before you see it. Keep the windows down.”

---

Inside the house Kip and Giles walked onto a poolside deck. The former Vice President greeted them. “Giles, it’s been far to many years. My gosh, Giles, the last I heard you had been killed in some Washington parking garage.”

Kip mused. “The rumors of her demise are greatly exaggerated.”

“Oh, and you are?”

“Kip, uh, Mike Smith.”

“Why do I know that name?”

“You actually had me killed off on paper during your first term.”

“Oh, that’s right. I remember.”

“And, you nearly killed me for real last year.”

Olson held up his hands. “Not me, I was busy fighting off the press from the information you released.”

Kip snickered. “I didn’t release a thing. It came from somewhere else.”

“And, Miss Giles.” Olson turned his attention. “I’ve actually been kind of expecting you, and when my son came in and told me about this buxom blond woman who approached him in the bar I thought to myself, my gosh, it is true, she lives.”

“This guy who tried to kill me in Washington came back; but he and a 45cal. didn’t work out too well.” She brushed a blond lock from her forehead, blinked, and grinned. But, you know, his cell phone worked just fine. And, guess who answered when I called back the number?”

Olson began to look concerned. “I rarely answer the phone.”

Giles nodded. “You did then. I bet you didn’t realize that you put a million dollars in a dead man’s account.”

A bead of sweat appeared on Olson’s forehead. “I haven’t a clue to what you are referring. You know you were spying on my house. Here in El Salvador I can have you shot.”

Kip interjected. “I think we can show a number of murders and the robbery of $475 million tax payer dollars.”

“I’ve heard enough. You people need to leave, or my men here will gladly deposit you in the local channel. Oh, by the way, there isn’t anything you can prove or do. So, have your little fantasy.”

Giles didn’t comment but saw a large transport airplane go down the beach at a low level. Olson saw her gaze.

“National guard training, goes on all the time.”

Giles shook her head. “I don’t think so, I think it might be one angry fruit company executive who just found out you killed his girlfriend.”

“Oh, you and your fairy tales. I bet that shot to your brain made you go haywire or something.” He turned quickly to Kip. “You should have stayed dead.”

“You know, a really good friend once told me the same thing.”

Olson’s son stepped onto the patio. “Dad, where’s mother?”

“I sent her to Rio.” Olson quickly said.

“Her suitcase is on the floor, she didn’t take anything. Even her purse is on the dresser and her passport is sticking out.”

Bright lights filled the room and the roar of the airplane was deafening.

Everyone but Kip and Giles ducked or hit the floor. “Let’s go,” said Kip. The guys with Uzis looked confused. Olson and his son were nose to nose on the pool deck.

The noise subsided but through the patio Kip could see the airplane making a wide turn. The guards were starting to gain their composure until seconds later the noise and lights returned. Kip and Giles ran through the open gate and hopped in the car. Rosa was in the driver’s seat.

“Go,” said Kip.

“Call Roberto,” Rosa said. “I have an idea. If everyone knows the former Vice President is here, and living on the money meant for rebuilding nations like El Salvador he could get very unpopular.”

“What’s that got to with Roberto?” Kip asked. “He hasn’t a clue what’s going on.”

“Not Roberto, his son. Explain it all. Tell him to post it on electronic social media, send to newspapers and TV. Make it go viral. Have him do that Twitter and Facebook thing.”

Giles leaned forward. “The CIA, State Department, and Treasury will be here in minutes after they read it. Not to mention the El Salvadoran government.” She giggled.

To be continued...