Clear and present danger - Tom Clancy [100]
"You make of me a dishonest man. The look he gave me!"
She laughed. "Do you know how long it's been since. I had to hide in the other room?"
"And you didn't order enough. How can you live on this tiny salad?"
"If I grow fat, you will not come back to me."
"Where I come from, we do not count a woman's ribs," Cortez said. "When I see someone who grows too thin, I think it is the basuco again. Where I live, they are the ones who forget even to eat."
"Is it that bad?"
"Do you know what basuco is?"
"Cocaine, according to the reports I see."
"Poor quality, not good enough for the criminals to send to the norteamericanos, and mixed with chemicals that poison the brain. It is becoming the curse of my homeland."
"It's pretty bad here," Moira said. She could see that it was something that really worried her lover. Just like it was with the Director, she thought.
"I have spoken to the police at home. How can my workers do their jobs if their minds are poisoned by this thing? And what do the police do? They shrug and mumble excuses - and people die. They die from the basuco. They die from the guns of the dealers. And no one does anything to stop it." Cortez made a frustrated gesture. "You know, Moira, I am not merely a capitalist. My factories, they give jobs, they bring money into my country, money for the people to build houses and educate their children. I am rich, yes, but I help to build my country - with these hands, I do it. My workers, they come to me and tell me that their children - ah! I can do nothing. Someday, the dealers, they will come to me and try to take my factory," he went on. "I will go to the police, and the police will do nothing. I will go to the army, and the army will do nothing. You work for your federales, yes? Is there nothing anyone can do?" Cortez nearly held his breath, wondering what the answer would be.
"You should see the reports I have to type for the Director."
"Reports," he snorted. "Anyone can write reports. At home, the police write many reports, and the judges do their investigations - and nothing happens. If I ran my factory in this way, soon I would be living in a hillside shack and begging for money in the street! Do your federales do anything?"
"More than you might think. There are things going on right now that I cannot speak about. What they're saying around the office is that the rules are changing. But I don't know what that means. The Director is flying down to Colombia soon to meet with the Attorney General, and - oh! I'm not supposed to tell anybody that. It's supposed to be a secret."
"I will tell no one," Cortez assured her.
"I really don't know that much anyway," she went on carefully. "Something new is about to start. I don't know what. The Director doesn't like it very much, whatever it is."
"If it hurts the criminals, why should he not like it?" Cortez asked in a puzzled voice. "You could shoot them all dead in the street, and I would buy your federales dinner afterwards!"
Moira just smiled. "I'll pass that along. That's what all the letters say - we get letters from all sorts of people."
"Your director should listen to them."
"So does the President."
"Perhaps he will listen," Cortez suggested. This is an election year…
"Maybe he already is. Whatever just changed, it started there."
"But your director doesn't like it?" He shook his head. "I do not understand the government in my country. I should not try to understand yours."
"It is funny, though. This is the first time that I don't know - well, I couldn't tell you anyway." Moira finished her salad. She looked at her empty wineglass. Félix/Juan filled it for her.
"Can you tell me one thing?"
"What?"
"Call me when your director leaves for Colombia," he said.
"Why?" She was too taken aback to say no.
"For state visits one spends several days, no?"
"Yes, I suppose.