One week later
At last, they crossed the border into the United States. It had been an arduous journey overland from his country to their present location in El Paso TX.
With the plan's approval, he had begun to convert Labadan pesos into American dollars through an ingenious money laundering scheme. This small fortune, used as bribes, had opened doors and allowed him and Garcia to make the journey. Now those American dollars would get them transportation to Washington D. C.
Although most of the countries they had passed through were not friendly toward the U. S. the guards had gladly taken their dollars as bribes. He chuckled at the irony of that.
They had hired a 'coyote' who led them over the border south of El Paso. After they had crossed the Rio Grande into the US, he had killed the man. Finding the body, the Border Patrol would do a cursory investigation. They sometimes found bodies along the border. One man's body was not a priority for either the Americans or the Mexican government.
Now, after hitchhiking a ride into El Paso, they were at the Lone Star Autos to purchase a used car. The salesman's name was Rubio, who showed him several cars. The most promising seemed to be a 1977 Chevrolet Impala.
Sandoval studied the car one final time. The car was not in bad shape and most importantly, it would blend in with the other cars. "Senor Rubio, I will buy this car. I can pay cash."
"Cash? That will make the transaction much easier."
The man was nervous. Why? Sandoval knew there was no way the man would know him. He had no doubt the Americans were watching the airports and border stations, but this man would have no reason to be so nervous. He silently debated whether to eliminate him.
"I have to fill out some paperwork, Senor," Rubio said. "May I see your identification?"
"Of course." He removed his passport from his pocket. The passport, under the name of Luis Mendoza, was a fake. Another situation he had planned for. Before filling out the paperwork, Rubio studied the document for a bit too long, he thought.
Once again, Sandoval wondered if he should kill Rubio. No, the dealership was on a busy street. In addition, other customers were there. Should they leave without purchasing a car? He disregarded this idea. He did not know why the man was so nervous, but if they left now, it might cement his image on the man's mind.
Rubio quickly completed the paperwork. "With taxes and fees, that will be $2,497."
Sandoval grimaced. "That is a lot of money for an eleven-year-old car."
Sandoval saw the man's expression freeze. "The car is in fine shape for its age, Senor Mendoza."
Sandoval took a deep breath. "Never mind. I'll get the car." He turned away and pulled out cash from a pocket in his jacket. The rest of his money was with Garcia. Turning back to Rubio, he counted out the money.
"Very good, Senor." He handed the keys and registration to Sandoval. "It was a pleasure to do business with you." His expression was relieved.
Sandoval smiled on the way to his 'new' car. Rubio had no idea how lucky he was to be alive.
They had been on the road for a little over three hours when they stopped at a roadside store in a small town. They filled up with gas and purchased snacks and cold drinks. They both had developed an appreciation for beef jerky.
They drove east toward Ft. Worth. They were careful not to exceed the speed limit or draw attention to themselves.
Sandoval glanced at his watch and studied the road map. There seemed to be two possible routes to reach Washington. Though they planned to drive straight through, he decided to spend one night in a motel. He would make his final decision on the route they would take. "We will stay the night in Ft. Worth. I want to study this map in more detail and contact Diaz."
"Yes, Minister."
Sandoval considered Garcia the perfect travel partner. He rarely said anything unless he was spoken to.
He looked out the window at the arid landscape passing by. Oil derricks and an occasional small town broke up the monotony of the landscape. It was so different from his country. He realized at that moment that he probably would never see Labada again, which saddened him.
They had stopped at a dreary roadside motel outside Ft. Worth and reserved a room for $35 a night. The clerk did not even ask to see his identification.
Now inspecting the room, he thought they had paid too much. The motel was a dump, but they just needed it for a few hours. They would be back on the road at first light.
The first thing to do was call Diaz. But he would not use the hotel phone. He would have to get an outside line, and the clerk might listen in. He would not take that chance, even speaking Spanish. As they entered the room, he had spotted a payphone nearby.
"Come with me. I want to contact Diaz."
"Yes, Minister."
Garcia followed him. The man inserted change into the phone and dialed the number. After going through their routine.
He waited for Diaz to call him back. At the first ring, he answered. "Yes."
"Good afternoon, Minister. Is everything going well?"
"Well enough. What information have you found out about Stetson?"
"His partner is also his wife. Her name is Amanda Stetson. She has two children from a previous marriage."
"Is that so? Do you have a home address for them?"
"No, Minister, I have not been able to get any current information. Normally addresses and phone numbers are in a local directory, but there was no listing for either Lee or Amanda Stetson. People can have their names and phones numbers removed from the directory. If I knew her previous name I could look in an older directory, but they might have moved when they married. I'm sorry, Minister."
Sandoval grimaced, pursing his lips. "That is unfortunate. No matter, there are other ways to find where they live."
"I do have the address and phone number of this International Federal Film company."
"Ah, yes, good. I'll take it."
Sandoval wrote the address and phone number down. I will call you when we leave Texas."
"Very good, Sir. I'll talk with you then."
So Stetson's partner was his wife, and she had two children. That was interesting. It was a possible weakness that he might exploit.
