FALLEN | The Devil of Caracas

Chapter 26 | Rain

Hugo eases into the creaking chair. He then picks away at the keyboard in front of him, activating the ancient computer, sitting atop the desk of the local library. As the machine boots up, he glances out the window. Gray clouds slowly cover the sun, casting a large shadow across the city. The wind starts to pick up, blowing littered paper down the street.

After the machine warms up, Hugo jabs the flash drive into the USB port to access a single audio file. He plugs a pair of recently stolen headphones into the computer and inserts the earbuds into his ears. Then, playing the file, he listens intently. Studying the visual waves of the recorded audio, a flat line indicates silence for nearly fourteen minutes.

He skips forward, until he finds a peek in the recording; Mateo Rodríguez speaks. He's answered by an unfamiliar voice - Brian Erikson. The conversation captures Hugo's interest quickly, when Erikson mentions his workings with the CIA in favor of Rodríguez.

"What the hell?" Hugo whispers.

Once finished, he pulls the headphones from his ears and leans back in the chair. He mulls over the new information and begins to organize his thoughts.

'Okay,' he thinks to himself. 'Rodríguez has someone from the agency organizing some sort of hit on someone. Then he's going to smear this dude's name by planting cocaine. Why is the agency helping him with this? This doesn't make any sense. Who does he need dead?' He mentally runs through the list of Rodríguez's enemies, which is quite extensive. Then it hits him.

"Shit," he whispers.

He looks over his shoulder and then back to the computer. Hugo accesses a secured email, uploads the file, and sends it to his counterpart in the United States, with a short message:

I need answers. I'll call you.

After leaving the library he walks down the street and into an alley. He then pulls a satellite phone out of his bag and dials a memorized number. The line rings for a moment before someone answers.

"This is Gomez," replies Raúl Gomez on the other end. He sounds frustrated.

"Raúl, it's Hugo."

"Hugo, what the hell? Why are you calling me? Are you on a secured line?"

"I'm using my sat phone," answers Gomez.

"Well you better make it quick," spits Gomez. The fifty-three year old man leans forward, placing his elbows on his desk. The chair creeks as he moves and the cord from his office phone slaps against the wood desk in front of him. He quickly uses his free hand to shove his government issued laptop to the side. "I'm heading into a meeting in a few," he says. "What the hell happened down there? I've got people asking a lot of questions and I've been trying to get a hold of you."

"First, answer this; do we have any other case officers down here?"

"No, just you. Why?" says Gomez.

Hugo thinks for a moment and then says, "Okay, postpone that meeting. I've got intel for you, you're gonna want to hear first. I just sent you an audio file. Check your email."

"Seriously? Right now?"

"Just open the damn file," interjects Hugo. "Skip ahead about fourteen minutes. I need you to listen to this and tell me what you know. And be careful who you show it to."

"What the hell did you get yourself into?"

"Just listen to the file. Now."

Gomez sighs. "Just a sec - let me shut my door."

He punches the speaker icon on his phone and drops the handset into the cradle. After pushing himself out of the chair, he strides across his office to shut the door. His knee buckles slightly - old work injury. Gomez has sat behind a desk for the majority of his career after his field work came to an abrupt end. The former case officer turned his practical knowledge into an opportunity to teach others the art of espionage. His undercover experience in the Mexican Cartel made him an excellent candidate for CIA operations in Central American.