06.4 Ransom

When they arrived at the address, this extent of the lane was jammed by vehicles to the reach of the intersections and blocked by police cars. Hugo, Lucero and Fucino ascended the stairs and a janitor opened the door.

“This way, please!” escorted the janitor to the Punto Banco floor upstairs. This casino catered for upper-middle class and foreigners seldom found, it was one of the oldest in town. Fairly a congested hall with red carpeted floor and cushioned chairs, crystal chandeliers and glittery gold columns. Lucero felt stars twinkle around his crown.

Hugo negotiated with the manager who was already briefed.

“What guarantee do we have that Mrs Falak would be returned safely?” enquired the player.

“None,” responded the banker, “For the casino has no connection to the kidnappers.”

“What is the significance of these chips or what you call plaques?”

“Gold Seigniorage Plaques,” Hernandez explained, “they are maintained as souvenirs by customers who pledge to keep large sums of money with us and never remove. You get no refund and cannot be claimed. Cannot be cashed here or anywhere although customers can sell to other collectors.”

“Can you trace them?”

“Well,” replied the manager, “we would know our custom-made tokens after screening that is done here.”

“How is it benefiting the kidnappers by keeping the money in the casino?”

“It certainly would help the casino.”

“Can a casino frontman like Wolfgang Alvieri take the money?” asked Hugo.

“Absolutely not,” said Hernandez.

“Can you give these chips for free?”

“If it will help saving the lady, yes, with an understanding we might.”

“Will you return the money if we fail to save this lady?”

“Not our policy,” manager disputed, “if you want to claim this money, you will have to file a lawsuit.”

Hugo conceded, “In that case, we’ll not waste our time.”

The money was counted. It did not take long to run down a counting machine. Lucero grudgingly signed these papers. As a banker loyal to his job, he least liked every step that shadowed in his way. Sweat on the forehead and red in the cheeks, he made no protest.

Then an attendant wearing white coat and gloves came with a black leather case and ten gold plaques neatly stacked, “Would you like to count, señor?”

Hugo grabbed the case closing the top, “If there is any value to it!” He passed the case to Lucero who received it unexpectedly light in his hand.

“This isn’t gold!” muttered Lucero.

“Those are ceramic chips,” said Hugo.

“What is its real value?”

“Two thousand pesos. The minute you walk out of this place, its value is zero.”

“Now what?” he asked uncertainly.

“We wait for the call. Somebody would tell them that the money is banked.”

Ten minutes later, they got the call and Lucero answered, “I have the gaming chips.”

“Good!” replied the caller, “Go to COTO Supermarket in Ezeiza, near the airport, and stop on Reconquista. Wait for my call.”

“Here we go again!” Hugo cried, “A wild goose chase!”

Information passed to the police tailing them. They were armed and some of them in private cars. Police organised a helicopter and more vehicles at Ezeiza, twenty miles from the casino.

The crisis team assumed that any form of negotiation would take place in open field. That satellite phone would be exposed and it could be possibly traced. So, they got prepared with the necessary tracking equipment.

The motorcade rolled on Autopista 25 de Mayo at rush hour and continued on Luis Dellepiane Expressway to climb the Ricchieri Freeway.

One of those fastmoving four-wheelers was a blue Suzuki Carry ST90. At that rate of acceleration, doing 70 to 100 km/h, at the end of the long line, it only mattered if the wheels could hold. Passing another intersection, they saw a police helicopter take off from a base.

Emilio at the wheel uttered, “I was here in seventy-three. Si Evita Viviera! Women out to welcome President Peron on his return. It was the largest rally I attended. Peronist right-wing opened fire on the crowd. Several people died. Hundreds injured.”

Maria asked, “How far are we?”

“About ten kilometres.”

“Two more choppers, I think they’re all heading to Ezeiza.” She was a young reporter working for Cruzado. Unexpectedly this group had to follow the news because sales hiked for publishing a photo of Marina.

They reached COTO around 10:45 pm. There was quite some activity going on. More media arrived and helicopters flying over the area. Hugo uttered, “Too many! We are scaring them off! This is not what we expected!” Hugo climbed down to talk to the police.

Police in Ezeiza had already begun the search, tracking the satellite handset, looking for suspicious vehicles and monitoring movement in the area – the Drop Zone.

On Reconquista, behind COTO market, there were a hundred cars, media vehicles and flashing lights. No wonder, those kidnappers would watch warily. With this much exposure, they would not show up.

Lucero sat nervously in the backseat of the Nissan holding the black leather case on his lap and brushing his moustache.

Hugo returned with a group of officers still pondering the matter. He poked his head through the window and said, “They tell me a surveillance aircraft is flying above. Fucino, it is time we try to contact them.”

“Eleven-thirty,” said Fucino, “Let’s try! They will be watching on television.”

They dialled the satellite handset from the ENTel mobile, recording everything. There was no reply. Another hour passed.

That Monday night, Reconquista came alive. There was no call from the kidnappers, no sign of Marina but the waiting wasn’t called off until six in the morning. Crisis team could not track the satellite phone because it wasn’t used at all. Even if it was used, it might not be in range to collect signals that could be detected by surveillance aircrafts and particularly if in the open.

It collapsed into an anti-climax.