"This probably sounds ridiculous but if I wanted to find a man in Argentina by the name of Carlos Huentos, how would I go about it?"

Raoul laughed and stared at Terry. "Are you joking, senor?

"No, I'm not. All I have is his name. I've tried the various directories, made a few calls but nothing is panning out. I tried the tax rolls, the voter's lists and can't get anywhere."

"You are serious.

"Yes I'm serious. Why, what's so odd about asking a question like that?"

Raoul studied him silently to the point where Terry just flipped a hand and said never mind.

"Wait, senor. Why do you want this man?"

"That's my business."

"You ask for my help, I am surely entitled to know why."

"Actually you're not but if it will get me an answer, I need to speak to him about a financial transaction that took place a few weeks ago."

"And you want my help?"

"I didn't ask for help, I asked for advice."

"I will give you an answer but first I must speak with someone else."

"What? What, do you need permission? Jesus, Raoul, just forget it, okay?"

*****

Hoyte raged back and forth in front of Terry, arms flapping, brow like thunder. "Are you out of your friggin' mind? Why in God's name would you tell him?"

"I told him nothing really. I just asked if he could help me find this guy Carlos."

"And he wanted to know why."

"Yeah. So I told him to forget it." He left out part of the truth.

"Jesus, Terry, in case you haven't noticed, we are being held effectively hostage by members of this country's organized crime!"

"Oh I wouldn't go that—"

"Wake up and smell the bloody roses, Aldridge. Jesus! Porn! Hooker service! Armed, friggin', guards! It ain't the Salvation Army."

"So you think I made a bad move?"

"DUH!"

"Now what then?"

"You can bet Raoul will be back." Hoyte wiped his face with his hand. "We'll just have to see now I guess."

*****

"He said about a financial transaction? Those were his words?"

"A quote. And it was just a few weeks ago."

"So it is Carlos then?"

"That would be my best guess."

"How would this gringo have any knowledge of that?"

Raoul let his eyes wander away from the shaded balcony to the brilliant ocean water. Impossibly white puffs of cloud dappled the blue sky. The day was warm... and getting warmer.

"I have had my people run searches on all of them. At first it appeared to be just another band of crazy tourists that seemed to know one another but hadn't arrived together. The search revealed that one of the women—soon to be in our magazine," Raoul chuckled. "Apparently she is a high end partner in a firm called, Jaeger, George, Ditchburn and Silverberg. She's George."

"She's George?"

"Her last name. First name, Elora. Another of the group, a Hoyte Boorland is a computer file specialist of some kind. He worked for her at this firm." Raoul laced his fingers and propped up his nose with the index pair. "This is the firm that held the Trasker trust. Curiously, Ditchburn, from the same company, is the other name on the account with Huentos."

The man stiffened in his hanging basket chair and stared at his guest with eyes of black fire.

"And the others?" His voice trolled the space between them with menace.

"The one who was hired to come down and work is nobody. Terry Aldridge. He lost his job and answered our ad. He worked at a publishing house prior to coming down." Raoul sat straighter in his chair. "The man, Wilfred Graeme-Hughes is a British subject apparently visiting along with, and this is a little odd, a black woman named Jeantrine Twilly alias Ebony Keyes. By the way, she is also black. You will also see her in the magazine soon."

"The other man."

"Aah, Darcy Wiggens. A hack for hire. He dabbles in computers and does investigative work. Frankly I find him an idiot. He has completely fallen under the spell of Maria and Consuela. He actually has told them he'd like to stay on doing the same work Terry first did. He is  tonto del pueblo."

"What is it you have him doing?"

Raoul laughed. "He's our most ardent, defect sprayer." He spread his hands and laughed again. "What can I say."

The basket chair swiveled slightly as the man stepped out and hitched his trousers up over his ample stomach. He strolled slowly to the edge of the balcony and stared across to the horizon. The large bodyguard moved to the required ten-foot distance he always maintained. Raoul felt very uncomfortable when he was around the man; he never liked or trusted the people from the Gran Chaco, particularly the Guaicuru. They were very warlike and distinguished themselves in separate classes. Thorn was from the noble class and was a totally heartless killer.

The man he protected turned from his contemplation and pinned Raoul with his look.

"What questions would this driver of yours have to ask Carlos?"

"I have no idea, jefi."

"What about this Ditchburn whose name is on the cancelled account, do we know where he is?"

"Our sources say he's not in this country, jefi."

"You are positive about this driver's background?

"Absolutely, jefi. Should I help him?"

The man returned to the chair and it creaked under the weight as it pivoted slowly. "Yes... let us see just what he does but if nothing happens Carlos Huentos is to be found and brought to me here." The words were bitten off with a threatening menace.

"We have been looking everywhere, jefi."

"Then bring his family and bring your driver with them." He turned the basket chair toward the view, allowing the bodyguard to steady it before backing away the specified distance and settling like a stone statue.

*****

Raoul waited for Terry to park the car and let the women out. There was the usual giggling and complaining, as they gave him their purses to search, before be passed them along to the minders for a more thorough check. He beckoned Terry to a small table in the shade at the back of the lot and they sat.

"I have considered your request and all I can do is tell you where he once lived and that he also had a mistress."

"Once lived? If he's not there what good is that?"

"His wife and family are still there. Perhaps they can help you."

"What about the mistress?"

Raoul shrugged. "I only know she once worked at the same bank as Carlos."

"Really? Yeah, hey, that might be a big help." Terry thanked his boss and went off to find the others.

Raoul beckoned one of the guards over and issued swift instructions.

*****

"Why would he tell you that and how the hell would he even know where this guy was or that he had a mistress? Does he know him?" Hoyte complained.

"I can't answer any of your questions, Hoyte. The guy is connected as you pointed out earlier. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth."

"Terry's right. Who cares how he found the address, he's our only lead tae the money." Elora stated. "What do yew say, Wilfred?"

"I'm with you. If we want a chance still we have to follow every lead. What about Chris Ditchburn?"

Elora made a face. "That wee bastard. I ca'nae believe he was smart enou' to pull that off."

"How do we do this, they won't let us all out of their sight at once?" Hoyte warned.

"I'll stay and Darcy isn't interested in going anywhere anymore, at least he seems content for the moment." Ebony offered.

"You think they'll say okay to that?" Terry asked.

"I say we all make a run for it; why should we let oursel's be used like this any longer? I'm willing to take my chances. I'm fed up wi' their filthy living conditions." Elora poked Wilfred and then Ebony. "C'mon, what di' yew say?"

"I'm with her," Hoyte said.

"How do we do this?" Wilfred asked. "We can't just march off the compound with those armed brutes watching."

"I have an idea," Terry said.

*****

Raoul stormed from room to room and then back out into the parking area. The guards stood looking sheepish as he berated them for their incompetence in letting the gringos just walk out.

"¿Dónde están las mujeres?"

"We thought they were in the car with the driver, hefi." One of the guards answered. "They had an appointment with a client and we just let them go."

"Well they weren't, you imbecile. I found them locked in the washroom in the dormitory."

"Get the jeep, I know where they are headed." Raoul slapped at the nearest man and they all jumped into action.

*****

The car was parked behind a row of bougainvillea in a narrow lane off the avenue and the group was all seated around a small table on a backyard patio of a cantina, enjoying a drink and a successful escape.

"I feel badly about Darcy," Ebony said. "He might pay for this."

"He made his choice," Hoyte said. "I think he thinks he's already found his treasure."

"I hope they don't hurt him."

"Ebony, Darcy will survive, he's too stupid nae to." Elora said. "And just for the record, the women are on his side."

"Okay, enough about Darcy, what about this Carlos guy? We can't just go to his house now, Raoul will have that covered pronto."

"We have his name, we have his address. Hoyte can find the phone number... right?" Hoyte shrugged a nod. "You speak fluent Spanish, Wilfred, so you can call and see if he's there." Terry patted the table in ta-tum-tum beat and looked at the others for their reaction to his idea.

Hoyte hauled out his computer from his pack and set up. "I can't get on from here, we need to go somewhere that has wireless or I need a terminal."

"There must be someplace around here with internet access." Elora said. I'll take a wee walk down the street there, yew all wait here."

Twenty minutes later she was back with good news and Hoyte left to trace the telephone number.

*****

They had moved the car to the city's northern side on grounds of the National Library along the banks of the Rio de la Plata, and were seated at a large picnic table in the shade of a larger jacaranda tree.

Hoyte had found the telephone number they needed and he also discovered that Chris Ditchburn was gone from JGD&S. "They've posted a notice that he's on medical leave." Hoyte told them when he'd returned. Wilfred took the number and found a telephone while the others puzzled over the Ditchburn news.

"She said she hadn't seen him for weeks and had no idea where he was." Wilfred told them on his return. "He lived his own life was the way she put it. I take it he's not the poster boy, father."

"You think it's the truth?"

"Yeah, I guess. Who knows, Terry?"

"What about where he works?" Ebony asked. The group all agreed to use her original name for convenience; Jeantrine was officially buried.

"Get this, she wasn't sure. All she knew was that he went to Plaza de Mayo every day."

"That's it? Christ how can she not know where her husband works?" Hoyte looked away in disgust.

"Plaza de Mayo is the financial, commercial and government centers. He must have worked in the bank to do what he did."

"So knowing that makes nae difference then." Elora said. "He wi' nae be there now you can bet."

"True. We need something else. Jesus." Terry cursed.

"You got that right. We can't sit in a park with a stolen car, no place to stay and no money, for ever." Hoyte reminded them. "Raoul can find us as easy as he found Carlos."

That fact made them all stop and face an uncomfortable reality.

"Money is the most critical; we need some." Wilfred said. "You're the only one who has anything, Elora, what can we do?"

"I've maxed out my cards already. I di' nae think I can get away wi' any more expenses."

"Can we sell the car?" Ebony suggested.

"No way!" Hoyte blurted. "Raoul would hear about that in a heartbeat."

"But there might be something in the car we can peddle; or maybe even the wheel disks." Terry said.

"What's in the car?" Wilfred asked.

"Let's see."

They all trekked to where the car was parked out of sight by a row of angry looking bramble bushes. Terry popped the trunk for them to search while he went through the car's interior.

"Wow!" Ebony exclaimed as she pulled a satchel from the trunk containing three handguns and boxes of ammunition for each. "I bet we peddle these."

"I bet we could use them," Hoyte said, taking one out and working the chamber. "This could be our saving grace if we meet up with those guards."

"I don't think getting into gunfights with the locals will improve our position any." Wilfred said.

"I said, saving grace, I didn't say we should get proactive."

"We might not have to," Terry called, backing out of the car. "Check this out."

They all gathered around and he opened the leather folder containing several different credit cards and a small bundle of currency.

"What the hell are they?" Hoyte asked.

"It's the currency of the country. They're nuevo peso argentinos."

"Oh that clears it right up. Christ, Terry, speak English."

Elora counted the bills. "Okay. So we hae... great giftee! Ten thousand pesos!"

"That's about seventy-five hundred US dollars!" Terry said with excitement.

"What a friggin' break!" Hoyte threw his arms around Elora and kissed her cheek."

"Back off, Boorland. Ye nae get privileges wi' the saircumstances."

"We can just leave the car and get new transportation, Raoul won't find us as easily now." Wilfred slammed the trunk lid.

"What about these," Ebony held up the bag of guns.

"Hoyte's right, you never know. But we gotta keep them out of sight. Get caught with those and we can kiss life as we know it, goodbye." Terry shut and locked the car doors and tucked the key up on top of the front tire. "Let's go find a car."

*****

Raoul was sick. The gringos hadn't turned up at the address and when he finally told his men to bring the family back to the office, he learned that they had phoned instead and hit a dead end with the wife. If he took this development to his boss it could mean very bad things for him.

"Put out the word that we have Carlos Huentos family and unless he comes to us he will never see them again."

"What of the gringos, hefi?"

"Find the car and you find the gringos."

*****

Wilfred haggled with the old man, pointing out all the faults of the van they were looking at. A price of three thousand pesos was stuck on the dirty window and Wilfred had succeeded in getting it down to twenty-four hundred but was still aiming for less. He walked around the van once again, kicking the tires and shaking his head. He placed his hand on a dent in the front panel and gave an elaborate shrug and then looked to his companions, indicating his disappointment.

The old man watched him carefully and when he thought Wilfred was ready to walk away, he offered two thousand. Wilfred maintained his displeased look and opened the driver's door and poked at a hole in the upholstery and pretended to test the brakes and the gearshift. He let out a huge sigh and climbed out, slamming the door and shaking his head again. He turned to the owner and signaled fifteen hundred.

The old man waved a negative hand and turned away. Wilfred matched his move and said to the others they should leave. Immediately the owner turned back and hesitated then called seventeen hundred. Wilfred made out he was fed up and peeled off the amount and thrust it in the man's hands, continuing to shake his head. As they drove off down the road in their new transport there were whoops of glee from inside and praise for Wilfred and his bargaining skills.

"Now what?" Ebony asked.

"Something decent to eat." Wilfred announced, pulling onto Avenida Rivadavia and heading west to the district of La Boca where many of the people were originally descended from Genoa, Italy.

They found a trattoria serving genuine Italian dishes and hurried inside to order, falling upon the food like vultures when it arrived.

"God, that was good." Ebony almost swooned, wiping her mouth with a serviette.

"Aye, I di' nae think I could enjoy eatin' so thoroughly."

"We have to discuss a plan." Terry reminded them. "We need a place to stay and some idea of what the hell we're gonna do."

"This isn't the greatest area in the city, let's find somethin' down here, at least the food's good." Hoyte mopped up the last of his sauce with a chunk of bread.

Ebony went to counter and mimed borrowing the newspapers and returned to the table with copies of La Prenza and Clarin. They each took sections and scoured the ads for suitable accommodation.

"We can't all stay together now." Wilfred pointed out. "We have to split up." A look of uneasiness passed across their faces as they considered all the implications of not sticking together. "Face it, it would be like hanging out a sign for Raoul and his goons."

"He's right." Ebony agreed. "We should divide up the money evenly and decide on how we split up."

"Hold it right there." Terry shook his head. "There will be no splitting up of the money. "I'm the only one here that didn't try to cheat or get anything for myself so I will be the banker for the group. The money stays with me."

Before they could start a protest, Wilfred agreed, pointing out the obvious advantage considering their previous behaviour. Reluctantly they all agreed and settled back to the business of partnering.

"Guys and dolls." Hoyte said with a lack of concern.

"I don't think three guys are going to get very far renting a room." Wilfred said.

"Oh, and just what are you suggesting, Wilfred and dolls?" Hoyte snipped.

"Couples make more sense, Hoyte." Terry said. "It's more likely the easiest way... more natural."

"Well, who's the odd man out then?"

"We draw straws." Wilfred said.

"Wait a minute here," Elora broke in. "We've nae bin asked our opinion yet."

"You think we're wrong?" Wilfred asked.

"Nae, but we need some ground rules fairst."