Too Many Cooks

Chapter 17

They drove the boat as far up onto the beach and as close to a bunch of scrub bushes as possible. The map showed they were about two kilometers from the town of Punta del Este; they had completely missed Montevideo. The good news was the town had a bank and a small private airport. Terry spoke with the bank manager using Wilfred as a translator and they managed to convey what they wanted to do. The process was delayed by the bank manager insisting Terry open an account and make a deposit first. They couldn't just move money in and out without a record of the account holder. This entailed multiple documents and notaries to confirm and witness Terry's documents. Oddly, nobody questioned the fact that they were in the country without a passport stamp.

"Bugger just wants a cut," Hoyte insisted.

"Better than not helping at all." Ebony nudged him and smiled.

Three hours later Terry had a new bank account and a balance of eighty thousand peso uruguayos.

"What the hell do we do with those?" Hoyte complained.

"It's the national currency, Hoyte. We spend it here."

"What did you have to transfer to get that?"

"Ten thousand dollars U.S., I don't know how much we'll need. Christ," he hissed a whisper, "the rate's about eight to one. We're talking about ten thousand dollars out of sixty-seven million!"

"What about the account?"

"I have to keep it open. Bank rules. We can leave a few bucks in and go. So what?"

"Find out about an airport?" Ebony said.

"Not here, old girl. Someplace with less profile." Wilfred said, leading them from the bank with a cheery wave to the happy manager. "There's a bus stop over there. I suggest we use public transit and worry about a car or cab later."

*****

The bus ride was surprisingly comfortable and clean and the group had the back to themselves.

"I'm going to bring up another suggestion that won't be popular but hear me out." Terry cleared his throat. "I think we should split up."

The protest began immediately and he dropped his chin to s chest and let it run its course.

"All through? Three white guys and a black woman in one group is bound to attract a lot of unwanted attention as well as helping any authorities receiving wanted notices pinpoint us."

"Just how do we all get out of here if we split up, and where do we meet again?" Hoyte wanted to know.

"We split up the money I got out. That's twenty-five hundred U.S. dollars each. More than enough to make travel arrangements. As to how we split, well that's up to a vote I guess."

"Well not going anywhere by myself down here," Ebony stated. "So one of you guys is with me."

"I suppose that would be Wilfred then since you and he—"

"There is no she and me," Wilfred snapped.

"We're talking here about saving our respective bacon, folks. Can we put animosities aside?" Hoyte fired up the computer.

"What are you doing?" Terry asked.

"Checking the money."

Terry wet his lips and waited patiently until Hoyte nodded and closed the lid.

"Still there?"

"Yup."

"Good, now about splitting up?"