06.3 Ransom

Avenida Melián, in Belgrano, lined with tunnel trees from Olazabal to La Pampa, broad sidewalks and lavish cars. José Lucero stepped to the gate of his ancestral house and missed his Ferrari 365 GTS4 – Daytona spider with red clearcoat. Everyone noticed it but because it was the only car that would not stop for a girl. The man in white coat was a serious banker.

He was called to get back to work starting from Monday. It was Sunday afternoon. He heard the telephone buzzing from the library few yards behind facing the garden. He ran to pick the phone. The digits on the display were familiar. It was his phone – his satellite phone. He lifted the handset and listened.

“Hola! My name is Jamal Carreon,” said the man on the line, “I call to arrange ransom in exchange for the girl. You have twelve hours to get one million American dollars.”

“Why! That is my phone!”

“Right. I borrowed it for this operation. I want you to know there must be absolutely no police involvement. No trailing, no tracking and no wire. This between you and me or the consequences are dire.”

“You stole my car!” cracked Lucero.

“We’ll blow it up if you don’t cooperate with us.”

“She has nothing to do with me,” cried Lucero, “I can give you her husband’s number, Mister Zaid Falak.”

“I am asking you to call him and get the money. I will tell you what to do. Get yourself a satellite phone and dial this number once. Then carry the phone with you.”

Lucero called the Silverside Club and reached Idris who asked him to be in Quilmes at once. He told his wife about a new development, “If a call comes, tell I’m in Quilmes.”

“You are stuck with her! You suck! You know something about liquidity, now learn a thing about viscosity!” his wife scolded.

Next morning it was on the papers that the oil baron agreed to part with one million US dollars to save his wife.

Falak’s Camp prepared ransom money and talked to the police to keep them out but monitoring and recording calls trying to track the satellite phone.

A week passed and they got no news of Marina or heard her voice. No way of knowing if she was alive.

When Lucero arrived at the Silverside Club, there were a number of vehicles inside the premise. He noticed that spectacular spa for the first time since the fence was removed. He sat with a team of Argentinean specialists; crisis experts, lawyers and negotiators.

The call came around 6 pm and one of the experts motioned him to pick the phone. Lucero picked the phone with shaky hands. A mobile handset provided by ENTel.

“Excellent!” expressed the caller posing as Jamal Carreon but speaking Spanish, “Now listen very carefully…”

“Where is Madam Falak?” Lucero asked.

“Of course! Let’s hear her voice!”

Marina cried, “Please! I want to talk to my husband. Help me! Please!”

Lucero responded, “It’s Lucero here. Mr Falak is doing everything he can. He’s not here. Are you alright?”

“No!” she cried and they took away the phone quickly.

“Listen!” said the voice, “You carry the money to Casino Domingo. Go to Punto Banco and purchase 10 Gold Seigniorage Plaques for one million United States dollars. Each token of 100000 value. You sign it and when you are done, I will tell you where to go. And you must carry the phone.”

“That is impossible!” cried Lucero.

“You will find it possible and perfectly legal. Go!” And the line went dead.

“Casino Domingo!” frowned Hugo, the one in charge of the crisis team.

“We cannot trace the money!” muttered Fucino, “Casino has state immunity, we cannot put the money in there!”

“Do it!” cried Idris, “We don’t want you to probe it like policemen. We want to save the lady. Who cares about the money!”

“We don’t have a guarantee to save the victim. We must call the casino and ask what arrangements they have in place.”

An elderly person in the team spoke, “I think I know where it’s going. Wolfgang Alvieri and he is immune too.”

“Who is he?” asked Idris.

“One of the eighteen Peronist members of Operativo Cóndor. September 1966, they hijacked an Aerolíneas Argentinas aircraft and landed in the Malvinas. Wolfgang Alvieri was a twenty-year-old worker. In the broader world this could be regarded as ‘hostile takeover’ but here in Argentina they are heralded heroes. He is a gambler connected to the casino. Alvieri has sovereign immunity.”

“There must be a right-hand man!” said Hugo, “We might possibly find these people in the end. Let’s move!”

Vehicles rolled out of the wrought iron gate, escorted by highway patrol cars, flashing overhead beams and sirens, followed by more cars and motorcycles, including the press. A crowd gathered outside to watch the lights.

Lucero climbed a Nissan with Hugo and Fucino. He carried a Halliburton carry-on case with one million dollars in $100 bills, satellite phone and he wasn’t wired.

The motorcade rolled on Isidoro Iriarte to climb La Plata and to kill twenty kilometres in thirty minutes.