Fernando, the Second Chapter of "The Long Journey Home"

"Hey Diane," Diane's fellow budget analyst and long time friend called from the hall, "since you are a free woman for the week, how about a drink after work?"

"Sounds good Jenny," Diane answered.

The two women stopped at the Station Grill in Union Station before taking the Metro home.

"It's a tough break that Jim got this trip during our big budget time," Jenny said, "I hear Spain is a beautiful country."

"I know," Diane said, "Jim calls me every night and tells me about things he has seen. At least he's remembering to take pictures."

Jenny changed the subject and the tone of her voice, "Diane, how are you doing?"

"I'm fine Jenny, I miss Jim a bit of course, but I'm doing great. Jim became the golden boy of C.E.S. when he completed that Spanish project. He's picked up a nice bonus and he's all but guaranteed to have his own business group when he gets back."

Jenny looked at her friend, "Diane how long have we known each other?"

"About four years, why?"

Jenny didn't answer the question, she just asked, "Remember last year when I had that lump in my breast? How long did it take you to figure out something was wrong with me and get me to spill my guts?"

"What are you saying Jenny?"

"What I am saying, Diane is don't mess with me. We've known each other too long. Something happened during that past month. Am I nosy? You're damn right I am. You got me through the scariest time of my life. If I can help you in any way, I want to know about it."

Diane looked at her friend, took a breath, and began, "I think you know my problem."

"Having a baby," Jenny answered.

"That's right." Diane responded.

"And the problem is that Jim doesn't want to adopt," Jenny guessed.

"That's the main thing," Diane said, "but it's a bit more complicated now. Two weeks ago Jim and I had a big fight. He said some things that really hurt me; then I threw him out of the house for the night."

"You go girl." Jenny cheered.

"I don't know," Diane said. "Throwing him out really hurt him. The next day we talked and he did a one eighty on everything. He said we should look into adoption as soon as possible."

"That's great Diane! Tossing him out brought him to his senses, so what's the problem?"

"Jenny, I can't bring a child into our house knowing that the only reason Jim accepted the baby was to appease me. I know Jim would always make the child feel loved, I would never know if his love was real or just an accommodation."

"Diane," Jenny said with a bit of force in her voice, "has Jim ever been hard hearted?"

"No," Diane answered, "he's generally a big softy."

"Then imagine what this big softy is going to do when a baby looks up at him. He won't be pretending. He'll love your child, as much as you will. The next time he offers, drag his ass to the nearest agency and get the ball rolling. There are kids out there that need a mommy, and you are definitely good mommy material."

Diane smiled at her friend, "Jenny I can always count on you to clear up the fog I throw in front of things. As soon as Jim gets back we'll start. Thanks."

"Happy to help; now Diane I'm going to tell you your real problem."

Diane smiled knowing how colorful her friend could be, "What is my real problem?"

"It's simple, you don't curse enough. How the hell can you ever make your man think you're serious if you don't curse at him? That's how you get them off their lazy asses and get them to do what you want them to do."

Diane laughed out loud all through Jenny's speech, and then said trying to catch her breath, "I guess that's the direct approach. I'll try to remember that."

"Good," Jenny said, "Now buy me another drink, my advice doesn't come cheap you know."

The phone rang on Diane's nightstand at five thirty in the afternoon. "Hi," Jim said.

"Hi," Diane answered, "did you just get in from dinner?"

"Yeah, I just got back to the hotel. I'm all done here. I just went through a bit of marketing today. It was easy since they already love C.E.S."

"They already love you Jim," Diane said, "and so do I."

The line was silent for a moment then Jim said, "I love you too Diane and I always will, and when I come home I think it will be time to talk about a family."

"So do I Jim," Diane said softly, "I think it's time we shared our lives and all we are fortunate to have."

"Good," Jim said the relief was almost audible in his voice, "I'll be home tomorrow afternoon. I think the flight gets in to BWI about five."

The relief might have been too audible. The old haunt entered Diane's mind again. "Is he doing this to make peace? Will he feel trapped when we have a child? Am I trading present happiness for future problems?"

"Diane?" Jim called in the phone.

Diane snapped out of her thoughts, "Oh yeah, I'm here Jim. I'm sorry, my mind began racing for a moment. I'll be there at the gate tomorrow waiting to see you."

Jim hung up and Diane sat on the bed and stared into space.

It was eleven thirty at night in Madrid. Jim thought of the place that Dennis recommended.

"Le Trumpet huh." he thought. Jim had done some site seeing and he knew where Via Grande was. It was in walking distance of his room at the Intercontinental Hotel.

"Of course, Via Grande is a big street," he thought, "hence the name."

Jim smiled thinking he was happy that he didn't say that out loud to any one. He checked the city map in the room and decided to make the trek.

Jim didn't quite know what to expect when he sat down and ordered a beer. He had never been to a cabaret before. From descriptions he had heard it sounded like a strip show only classier, or maybe more like a Las Vegas show without the glitz. "Well," he thought, "if an old salt like Dennis says its fun; then there must be more girls than poetry reading."

Just before the show started, two men came in and stood by a table just to Jim's left, and scanned the room carefully. Jim thought, "These guys are security for somebody. Maybe I'll see someone famous."

A moment later they moved off. Jim pretended not to notice. He didn't want to look like a goofy autograph seeker.

The two men returned with two other men. The newcomers were dressed in very expensive suits and sported a lot of gold. Jim suddenly got a bad feeling about the situation. Suddenly he wanted to leave, but he was afraid to call attention to himself. He told himself, "You're nothing to them, just ignore them and enjoy the show."

He tried, but he just couldn't. He began to sneak peaks at them. A server came over to light the candle on the table. When she lit the match Jim could see the men clearly. The images registered in his mind.

Jim thought, "I've seen the younger man before, the older man I don't know, but I've seen the younger man."

The younger man blew the match out before the candle was lit, "No, gracious," was all that he said.

Jim could not help himself. Though he knew how stupid it was, he kept sneaking glances at the shadowy figures trying to remember where he saw that face. His documented photographic memory was working overtime.

Then it came to him, "Oh my God," he thought, "it's Fernando!"

Several times over the past six months the FBI had broadcasted a description of an international terrorist named "Fernando". His cause was not clear, but his tactics were very effective and very deadly. The FBI listed Fernando as their prime suspect in the sinking of the yacht of Congressman Waters from Indiana. Congressman Waters was the leading proponent of the measures to increase the military involvement in halting the flow of cocaine into the United States. The battle cry of his group was "By Whatever Means Necessary."

Fernando was the prime suspect because he always left a calling card. In this case it was the letter 'F' seared into a deck board with a branding iron. He knew a thorough investigation would find it. It seemed his ego would not let him sneak away quietly. Still people didn't know why. Did he do it to protect the drug lords? Did he fear American intervention into Spanish speaking countries? No one knew for sure.

"Get out of here!" Jim's common sense shouted, "Just get up and go and don't look at them again." He was about to do just that when he realized that he could hear their conversation and they were speaking English. It was clear by the older man's voice that he was an American.

The women on the stage were beautiful, and though Jim looked at them, he didn't see them. His mind was focused on his ears, which were picking up pieces of the conversation.

Jim sat there for an hour, then his common sense took over or his nerve gave out. He had heard more than he wanted to know now and all he wanted to do was get out there, go home, hold Diane in his arms and forget the whole thing. But could he? He heard part of a plan that would kill not one, but many people and it would happen in the United States. The older man wanted a building destroyed in Denver. It was the corporate headquarters of Micod Corporation. Jim didn't hear the man give a reason, only an offer of twenty-five million dollars for a clean and effective job.

At this moment the only life he was worried about was his own. Now it was his turn to keep in the shadows. He paid the server as quietly as he could and slipped out.

Fernando looked up just as Jim disappeared through the door. He physically grabbed the server clearing Jim's table, "The man," he asked in Spanish, "the man that was sitting here, was he a local."

"No," the woman answered terrified by the cold stare in Fernando's dark eyes, "he was American."

"Who is he?" Fernando demanded, "What was his name?"

"I don't know," the girl cried trying to pull away, "he paid in cash and never asked for any favors."

"Let her go." the older man said. "You'll just attract more attention to yourself."

After the server rushed away Fernando looked at his two body guards, "Raul, Pedro, you know what to do."

The two men rushed out the door as the older man spoke to Fernando in an angry but quiet voice, "How the hell did your people sit us next to an American? I thought they were good."

"Don't worry." Fernando said calmly, "If someone has the slightest opportunity to betray Fernando, they die before considering it. He will not make it home. I promise you that."

The old man responded, "I'll hold you to that Fernando. We must meet in New York as planned."

"I will be there, bring the money."

Jim stopped outside the cabaret to scan the street for a taxi. There were none to be seen. It was almost one thirty, but the street was still active. Hearing the cabaret door open Jim started walking down the street at a fast pace. His heart was pumping and he began to sweat. He peaked behind him long enough to one of the two security men point at him. He turned back around and started to run. He was frantic. He stole another glance and saw the men giving chase, their hands ominously close to where Jim knew they had their weapons.

Jim kept running. He knew he had to keep people between him and the men. "Oh God," he thought, "I'm a software engineer not some damn action hero. These guys mean business. God, I'm going to die!"

As he ran down the long hill that was Via Grande he saw fewer and fewer people in front of him. "If they get a clear shot, they're going to take it. What am I going to do? Please God help me, please!"

"Close quarters," Jim thought, "It's my only chance." Seeing an alley coming up on his right, he ducked in. Now he took the big chance, hoping he'd have the nerve and remembered his training. Instead of running into the alley, he ducked behind a trashcan just in front the entrance.

Jim was shaking almost uncontrollably. Could he do this?

There was no time to wonder, the two men raced into the alley with their weapons drawn. "Oh God," Jim thought as he launched himself out of hiding, landing a powerful side kick on the knee of his closest enemy. The crack of the kneecap was audible as the collapsing man screamed in agony. Jim struck with a second kick to the side of the man's head knocking him back into his partner and causing his gun to drop to the pavement.

The second man stumbled back under the weight of his partner and bounced his head off the brick wall. Jim took advantage of the stunned man. He grabbed the wrist of the second man's gun hand with his right hand and slammed palm strike to his enemy's outstretched elbow. There was another crack heard, another scream of pain, and another gun dropped to the pavement. Jim followed the palm strike with the strongest back fist he could muster to the side of his enemy's head. The man's head bounced off the brick wall one more time and he went out.

Jim staggered backward gasping for air. He was dazed and disoriented for a moment. Both men lay out cold at his feet. Staring at them, numbed by what had occurred his eyes came upon one of the guns on the street. That snapped him back. Jim grabbed both guns and ran out of the alley.

Gagging and coughing Jim ran and stumbled down the street. Now he was happy that this part of the street was deserted. He looked around praying that no one pursued him, he was alone. After what seemed like an agonizing long period of time, Jim stumbled toward his hotel. Looking around again, he saw no one on the street. He stopped for a moment to compose himself before entering.

He slipped as quietly as he could past the front desk. He did not want to draw any attention to him. They would come for him, he knew that, and he didn't want to give them any help.

His hands shaking, Jim stabbed at the lock with his room key dropping it twice as he frantically tried to open the door to his room. Finally he rushed in, closed the door and collapsed on the bed. He was so scared he wanted to cry. All he could think of was getting to Diane and having her hold him. "Pull yourself together." he told himself out loud, "Think damn it, think. What do you know?"

Jim took a breath and tried to think. He purposely talked out loud to slow the pace of his racing brain. "Do they know what I look like; maybe, maybe not. There was no time that I gave them a good look at me, but I'm sure they are grilling the woman who served my beer. I have to assume they know what I look like; now what?"

Jim heard a sound in the hall and froze. His eyes bulged in his head and he grabbed the comforter with a white-knuckle grip. When nothing happened, he let out his breath.

"Damn it, "he chastised himself silently, "they won't have to kill you. You're going to give yourself a goddamn heart attack jumping at every noise. Take another breath and try to act like a man."

Jim didn't want to act like a man. He wanted to wet his pants and crawl under the bed, but he forced himself get focused. Then he started out loud again, "OK, on the subject of description, what would stand out in a person's mind about me? The beard, it can go. Curly hair, not much I can do about that, I don't even have a hat. Rings, watch, they can all come off. Clothes, they be changed to as different a style as possible."

Jim thought for a moment, and then said, "Not here. I should check out looking like a checked in. I don't want some clerk to tell Fernando or his buddies, that I used to have a beard, but I don't anymore. And I won't get a taxi from here to the airport. I'll go to that bus station I saw that advertised hourly trips to the airport around the clock. It's not too far."

Jim couldn't think anymore. "I'll have to make the rest up as I go along. Now, I have to get my things and get out of here. God please give me the nerve to leave this room."

A half hour later Jim was checking out hoping to God that Fernando's people weren't close by.

"May I get you a taxi sir?" The desk clerk inquired.

"No, no," Jim said with a nervous smile, "I'm meeting some friends just down the street. We are going to the south for a few days. We're going to visit Cadiz before going home. Thank you anyway."

"Have a nice time sir," the desk clerk said, "and return to see us again."

Jim smiled and nodded and went out of the hotel as quick as he could without looking frantic.

The street was quiet. He tried to keep as close to the buildings as possible. His heart pounded in his chest expecting a car to roar around the corner at any moment and riddle him with bullets. He stopped at a trashcan to deposit one of the two 45 caliber automatics that were his spoils of war. He kept the clip and gripped the remaining weapon inside his jacket.

Finally the bus station appeared in front of him. He purchased his ticket and got on board a waiting coach. He was in luck, the bus pulled out within five minutes of his boarding.

Jim peered cautiously out of the bus window searching for any signs of his enemies. The streets seemed normal. There was still traffic and people moving about here and there, Madrid stays up late, but nothing looked out of the ordinary.

As soon as he got to the airport, he went to restroom. He quickly dug out is what he needed and shaved off his beard. He changed clothes in the stall and emerged looking quite different. He looked so different that the attendant checking him in had to look at his passport twice. Jim knew that was the weak link in his clever plan. If the attendant was asked, she could describe him link the old look to the new look, but that was a chance he had to take.

With a first class ticket, Jim was invited to the airline's first class lounge, which he accepted. Jim rushed down the hall and approached security. The metal detector started beeping and Jim froze. The person in front of him left something in his pocket and it was very lucky for Jim that he did. Jim had almost marched into a metal detector with a gun in his pocket. The guard motioned Jim forward and Jim stepped back indicating that he forgot something. Moving to the nearest restroom Jim wiped off the gun and the extra clip and dropped them in the trashcan.

Once through security and in the lounge Jim took a deep breath. Fernando could probably get to him here, but it would be quite risky for him. Leaning back in the lounge chair, his eyes got heavy and despite his fear, he fell asleep.

Several hours later a hand reached out and touched his shoulder. Jim woke with a startle.

"I'm sorry to startle you sir," the attendant said, "but they are boarding your flight."

"Thank you," Jim said breathlessly and gathered his things.

Jim felt relief once the plane left the ground. He thought as he fell back to sleep, "Thank God, I'm going home."