Mike Smith Is Dead—Pt. 18

Rosa slept fitfully on a davenport for two days before her host met her at breakfast and said, “There’s a government truck coming up from Bogota to get the mail out of the airplane. They’ll have to build a trail to the aircraft, but I doubt they’ll come up to the ranch. We buried the pilot the other night up in the family graveyard. I have his ID and billfold so we will contact the airport next time we go to the city and they can find his family if any.” He paused. “Oh, I asked for medical when I told them about the airplane, but I might as well been asking for a Christmas tree delivered by Santa from the North Pole. So, I don’t know what will come. I tried that number you gave me in Costa Rica again, but there was no answer. Someday maybe we will get a cellular tower up in this part of the country.”

“Thank you. Wilson has done a good job treating Kip and me, I don’t know how we can repay you. It’s a good thing you keep a supply of medical products on hand.” Rosa was standing in the foyer looking out over the ranch. “Wish he’d wake from the coma.”

“Wilson said it was a concussion, but a bad one and when he wakes up he’ll have a headache for a long time. Right now he’s getting fed through an IV. And, all those medical supplies are here because we’re a day’s ride from a hospital. We have emergency medicine for humans and cattle.”

Rosa looked back. “Yeah I see that. Wilson said I might try feeding him some applesauce or something.”

Shank laughed. “Well, I won’t take pictures to embarrass him later in front of the ladies. Which reminds me Claudia will be here this afternoon, she’s been in Medellin running her business, and visiting relatives. Least that will give you another female to talk to and trade gossip.”

Two hours later Kip blinked his eyes and an excited Rosa searched for Wilson, only to be told that he was with the crew in a far away pasture.

“Kip, can you hear me?” Rosa pled.

Kip weakly smiled and whispered. “Hi, what’s for lunch?”

Rosa danced. “Praise the Lord.”

“Where are we?” Kip asked.

“On a ranch in the Columbian mountains, our airplane crashed and you’ve been asleep for almost a week. I’ve tried to call Paulo but nobody answers, not even a machine.”

Airplanes going down in the jungles raised few eyebrows, most people assumed it was drug business. Occasionally, search planes were sent out, especially when it was a sports team or dignitary in the crash, but in the dense jungle searches were usually fruitless.

Kip started to raise his head but sunk back into the pillow. “Then nobody knows where we are?

“Well, I don’t know. The Columbian government is sending a truck to get the mail and boxes that were saved in the airplane, but unless the natives choose to tell them about us, nobody will know a thing. Our host asked for a doctor but doubted one would come up, you’ve been taken care of by an Army Corpsman.”

“So, how come I can’t move?”

Rosa laughed. “You’re tied down to keep you from rolling off of this daybed.”

“Oh. Hey, have they got any aspirin?”

---

In Florencia, Paulo sat with Linda, Father Luis, and a group of employees and friends. They were sitting around an open fire pit on the terrace of the main house. Sam had visited Paulo with the news. The rainy season brought many storms and power had been out in the central house for several days so Paulo elected to hold the meeting outdoors. Luckily, the moderate temperature day allowed for a warm early evening gathering with no rain clouds in sight.

Linda held up her hand. “I have learned that the Columbian government has located the plane and are going into the jungle to check for survivors, but mostly to retrieve the mail and look for a drug trail. We simply won’t know more until they report back in the next few days.” She took an official stance. “I think since Paulo is ‘on the ground,’ he should act as general manager. I will take care of all the bookwork that Rosa was doing, but we may need to hire a salesperson.”

“No, not yet.” Paulo demanded. Not until we are sure they’re not coming back. As far as I am concerned they are still on vacation.”

Linda nodded “As you say, however.”

Paulo interrupted. If the Columbian’s will allow, I’ll take a group of friends to the area where the plane went down and do a search.

Maria patted his knee. “You’re too old to go tromping around in the jungle, I have to rub your back and legs at night now. And, I imagine you're so called friends who have wives will find the protest even more, they’re all your age or older.”

Paulo bristled. “They use ATV’s now for jungle searches, not so much walking.”

Father Luis took a deep breath and looked to the sky.

Maria giggled. “I won’t be there to rub your sore muscles, best let the younger guys look, you can sit in a village and drink coffee with lovely Columbian women.”

Linda stood, “We can’t do anything 'til we get the government report.”

Father Luis bowed his head. “We can pray.”

---

Kip was able to sit up with Rosa’s help and was being spoon fed Ajiaco, a Chicken soup which includes chicken, two kinds of potatoes, corn, sour cream, capers, avocado and guasca. Guasca is a special herb that grown throughout the Americas and gives the soup its distinct flavor. He was also given Postre de Natas. A milk and condensed milk mixture cooked with sugar, cinnamon and raisins.

“If nothing else I now slosh when I walk. That is am helped to walk to the restroom.” Kip tried to lift his limp arm. “My arm won’t go for some reason I can barely move it.”

“Wilson said you had separations in both shoulders, but he sees no reason why the nerves aren’t responding. The answer may be therapy. He says it will take time.”

Kip swallowed hard. “I heard you talking to a woman last night, who was that?”

Rosa smiled. “Claudia is the lady of the house, though she is more a woman of the world. She told me that the ranch was her sanity break, but she lives in Medellin as well, where she runs a modeling agency. She said she would leave you alone, and introduce herself when you are better. I told her we would contact our relatives after we were able to travel, that way they didn’t come down and get lost in the jungle. She said we could stay as long as we wanted. We are actually in a guest quarters of the main house. Although we are separated by only a veranda. The building is connected, but has separate everything. Although the cook brings food over here for us, well for you, I often eat in the main house.”

“The scenery out the window is beautiful,” said Kip. “What is the scenery?”

“We’re looking into the valley, there’s actually clouds below us.”

“I think you need to call Paulo.”

“Kip, we tried. We are on a Sat phone here, and we tried twice and there was no service. I’ll ask Claudia to call when she goes back to the city.”

“Well, if nobody can find us at least Giles doesn’t have to put a death contract out on me.”

“Oh, Kip. You know she wouldn’t do that.”

“Well, the info I hold, apparently isn’t worth a hill of beans historically. And without that protection, the State Department can’t afford to have a loose cannon like me around. Too many people would be, let's say challenged by my not so valuable information.”

“You imagine things. First, I don’t think Giles is after you.”

Kip started to speak and she put her fingers on his lips.

“Secondly, I think the Americans will take the money they found and run away. And, finally, nobody can touch the corporation or its investments and to kill your benefits nobody.”

Kip shook his head. I am a Damocles sword for a lot of still living people, of course as they die off my sword is dulled, but in the meantime, they have their precious money back, ah phooey, I’m tired of running and hiding, let’m shoot me.”

Rosa slapped his arm. "Keep talking like that and I may walk back to Costa Rica."

---

In Panama City Giles listened to Sam describe the airplane accident. “Marcos said that Kip and Rosa were returning from a vacation and rode with him from Tortola. But, they got on a mail plane leaving from Curacao. Columbian government reports that the native population told them there were no survivors.”

Giles wiped moisture from her eye. She had lost personnel before but this news shook her. “Are they sure?”

“Well, the Indians speak a different language but usually speak with their hands when trying to communicate.” Giles hummed on the telephone. “Marcos wants to see the site.”

“I do too. I need to go to San Jose for an audit, I could meet you and Marcos in Bogota on Monday. Today is Wednesday, I can do the audit tomorrow, stay over in San Jose and take an Avianca flight and be in Bogota on Monday for a late lunch.”

Sam took a deep breath audible on the phone. “I don’t know if Marcos will wait that long. But, I’ll tell him.”

“Well, I haven’t much of a choice. Folks in DC are anxious to see what is being held of the old clandestine operation funds, and it seems to be a popular opinion that Mike Smith, AKA Kip Waller hid a boatload and now a warrant has been issued for his hide. Plus some hanky panky has been going on in the State Department about my audit.”

Sam laughed. “That rumor about the money has been around for many years.”

“Actually, I hope that’s all it is, a rumor; but Kip never denied it either.”

“Marcos always said he was holding it to turn it back in to the US as soon as somebody figured out how to take the money back for something that there was no accounting for,” Sam argued.

“Yeah, I know, I hear that, now Kip isn’t available to explain.”

“Okay, I’ve been emailing Marcos while we are talking. He says he has to go to Rafael Nuñez International Airport in Cartagena to deliver a commuter jet and pick up an older Short 360 prop airplane. Anyway, he can put the delivery off until Friday, then he and I can spend a weekend on the beach and meet you in Bogota on Monday. Of course I haven’t informed him of the beach holiday.” She giggled.

“I’d rather be with you. The audit is going to be a pain.”

To be continued ....