Ramsey's Gold

Chapter Sixteen

The interior of the restaurant was jarring, all bright yellow and orange veneers apparently deliberately chosen for their perkiness. The other patrons were also travelers — grizzled truckers with weary scowls, families in transit — all looking out of place and ill at ease, counting the minutes until their time was up in the cheery purgatory and their journey could continue. Jack sat next to Allie on one side of the booth, Drake on the other, drinking bottomless cups of mediocre coffee, after they ordered from a waitress who’d greeted them with a toothy smile and vacant eyes.

Of the three, only Jack looked better; his color had returned along with his trademark steely determination in his gaze. Like Drake’s, Allie’s face showed signs of the stress, her easy grin nowhere in evidence, replaced by a thin humorless line as serious as a firing squad.

The server arrived with their meals and set platters of artery-clogging lumps before them before strutting off to the next patrons with a swish of her ponytail. Allie’s fruit plate was probably the only thing that hadn’t been churned out of a slaughterhouse, but at that moment it all smelled heavenly, and Drake attacked his meal like it owed him money.

Once they finished with breakfast, Jack cleared his throat and began to speak in a low voice.

“I’ve given this a lot of thought. A private investigator might have done the phone tracking, and could probably, with enough time, get bank records and credit card statements. So we should assume they’ll do exactly that. We can use that to our advantage by creating a false trail for them to follow to oblivion.”

Drake nodded. It made sense.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. How much money do you have on you?” Jack asked him.

Drake eyed the ceiling and did a quick calculation. “A little over thirty grand.”

Jack looked surprised. “With you?”

“Yeah. It’s a long story.”

“Doesn’t matter. That’s a stroke of luck. With that kind of cash, you can do whatever you want, within reason. It buys you a lot of flexibility, so you don’t have to use your credit cards at all unless you’re deliberately leading them on a goose chase.”

Allie finished her coffee. “How much do we have?” she asked Jack.

“I’ve got almost fifty thousand in gold coins, and fifteen in cash. I can convert the gold wherever. For now, we’re set. If this goes longer than a year, then it gets sticky.”

“But your pension payments go into the bank during the interim, right?” she asked.

“Correct.”

Drake sat back. “I’ve also got seventy grand coming from Patricia’s estate. For all I know, it’s already in my account.”

“Then you’re set. But getting it out without leaving a trail could be difficult.”

“Yeah, but I’m going to have to go to the bank anyway to get my passport. Like I said, it’s in a safe deposit box there. I can always withdraw a bunch of cash when I pick it up. Now that I’m carrying thirty around, I can see that it’s not as bulky as I’d have thought. Two pockets in my cargo pants. Piece of cake.”

“The good news is that there are no forms to fill out or boxes to check leaving the U.S. So if you don’t declare it, you’d only be in violation of your destination’s laws. And my experience is that places in South America aren’t doing full body searches on arriving passengers,” Jack said.

“That’s good to know.”

“So here’s what you’re going to do, Drake. Book a flight home, paying cash. Take a taxi to the bank. Pull the money and the passport, and then get the hell out of there. Hightail it to a border city and walk across. From there, you can get to wherever. Peru. Brazil. Bolivia.”

Drake nodded. “What about you?”

“We have different issues. The truck’s going to need to be repaired. Fortunately, I can easily find a radiator to replace this one. That’ll be my errand for the day. I’ll buy some tools, slap one in, and she’ll be as good as gold. I’ll use my credit card to do it, so they’re looking for us down here. By the time it shows up anywhere, we’ll be long gone. Same with you. You can buy something here — anything — either a jacket or shorts or whatever, and that will put you in Corpus. Of course, right after you buy it, you’ll be heading to San Antonio to fly home.”

“I’ll just wait for you to get the truck fixed, then. I can help. I’m pretty good mechanically.”

“No. I want you out of here. They’ll probably be looking for three people. The sooner we’re two, the better. But one thing, son, and I’m not kidding about this. Don’t go anywhere near your apartment. That’s dead to you. Stay away. Do you understand? Because the odds are good they’ll be watching it. Waiting for you to make a rookie mistake. So don’t do it.”

“There’s nothing I can’t replace.”

“Exactly. Grab the cash and your passport, and either fly, or hitch, or take a bus to Tijuana. Once you’re out of the U.S. system, I’ll have a lot more confidence.”

“Fine. What else?”

“Buy a disposable cell phone. Don’t call anyone you know with it. Use it only to call ours.”

Drake’s eyes narrowed. “You still have one?”

“Not yet. But that’s going to be our first purchase while you’re still here, so we have each other’s numbers — two phones. Once you call us, toss it. Buy another phone somewhere else before you call. Give us that new phone number and lose the one you called on.”

“Okay.”

Jack studied his face. “When was your passport issued?”

“Two years ago.”

“So it won’t be expiring any time soon. That’s good.” Jack took another sip of coffee. “Now to timing. The sooner we get to South America, the more of a jump we get on the Russians. It’s only a matter of time until they figure out our end game. I’d propose hooking up in Brazil in five days. Think you can manage that?” Jack asked.

“I don’t see why not. I’ll call you when I’ve gotten my passport to confirm.”

Allie exchanged a glance with her father and pushed her coffee cup aside.

“Now let’s pay and get phones. Then you’re on the first bus to San Antonio after buying a jacket somewhere.” Jack waved for the check.

Drake caught Allie’s eye, then looked back at Jack.

“Where in Brazil are we going to rendezvous?”

Jack pulled his wallet from his back pocket, wincing slightly as he did so, the wound still tender.

“Rio.”