just put down their instruments for a break. Mitch sees the singer go out of her way to make eye contact with Carlos as she walks inside. Heâs a dapper man. Great suit.
âPlease, Jefe . I will explain.â
Twenty minutes later Carlos and Mitch sit across from one another in a tranquil, moody corner of the hotelâs lobby, the drooping frond of a potted palm extending overhead. Manuel Sobero, Mitchâs chief of security, is on his phone nearby, busy doubling his manpower at the mine.
âWhat can be taking them so long?â says Mitch, rechecking the screen of his handheld device for the email heâs been expecting from the Canadian embassy.
âProbably theyâre verifying that it isnât a hoax,â says Carlos. âLet me make my own calls, see what I can find out. We do not always have â receive â the best information through official channels.â
Carlos is being extra-precise with his English. Mitch wants to tell him not to bother. He does better than ninety-nine percent of the Salvadorans Mitch deals with. And heâs offering concrete help.
So far, the embassy has only doled out crumbs, saying some kid dropped a ransom note on their doorstep today from a man claiming that heâs got five Canadian hostages and that he wants something from NorthOre. The embassy wouldnât say what. They were supposed to forward the note ten minutes ago.
Sobero approaches. âSomeone will drive your car back to the apartment, Jefe . Iâve posted men there. You can ride with me.â Sobero eyes Carlos, whoâs getting up to make his calls, then adds, âI cannot secure this location. We should go.â
Mitch has the feeling Sobero doesnât like Carlos Reyes. The optics must be strange to a former military man like Manuel, Mitch chumming around with a man who was so firmly on the other side of El Salvadorâs civil war. Itâs strange for Mitch too. But he knows Carlos has undergone a complete transformation since the old days. He travels in powerful circles now. Heâs a leftie with a twist â and contacts.
âThanks, Manuel. But I think Iâll stick around while Carlos does his research.â Mitch has worked too hard for anything to go wrong so close to the El Pico launch.
Carlos sits back down. âMitch, let me tell you what I ââ he stops, turning slightly.
Mitch understands. He nods towards Sobero, who obliges, withdrawing, giving them privacy. âManuel is good at what he does, you know.â
Carlos ignores the remark. âYou need rest, Mitch. We can speak tomorrow.â
âRest? I canât go to bed. No offense, but your countryâs not exactly highly organized. Dealing with a kidnapping at home would be bad enough. On your turf, Iâm screwed. How do I make this go away?â
Mitchâs BlackBerry buzzes before Carlos can answer. âFuck, finally,â says Mitch, pulling up the embassyâs email and forwarding it to Carlos and Sobero. All three are silent as they read the attached, scanned ransom note. Struggling through the Spanish, Mitch finishes last.
To the Ambassador,
Today I have detained five tourists from your country. They are unharmed. In exchange for their freedom, I demand the following:
1. NorthOre must cease operations at its Mil Sueños mine, including all blasting on the mountain called El Pico.
2. The Argentinean team led by Alejandro Reverte must be brought to the mine to exhume the remains of my family, who were murdered on El Pico before NorthOre took control of the land.
3. The remains must be given a Christian burial.
The first demand must be met no later than Monday, April 11 . I will then send instructions for where to search for the remains and I will release one detainee. If the demands are not met, we will execute one of the foreigners and we will continue to take another life every day.
My family has been on El Pico in silence, without justice,