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Chapter 17

Rodrigo walked into the cave like he had lived there his whole life. The idea was to seem like he belonged, but not too overconfident. Confidence sometimes looks like authority, and people would find it suspicious if someone they had never seen before was acting like they were in charge.

The cave had a mostly hidden entrance, so it would be nearly impossible to stumble upon it by accident. But if you knew where to look, it was easy.

It was surprisingly huge inside. There was a good eighty or so people, and those were just the ones there at the moment. Almost none of them were Kenyan though. Most of the people had European accents, with a scattering of others from around the world.

"Are you in?" Marc asked.

"Yes. There are eighty to ninety people here, maybe five of them are Kenyan. I think the man you talked to earlier exaggerated a bit," he said.

"That's unlikely," Cindy said. "If anything, he would have gone the other way and said there were less. He thinks this is abnormal, and he would alter the data to fit that idea."

"Okay," Marc said. "So that means they're all in town. Probably trying to throw police off the scent by laying low, especially after this morning's stunt."

"What else do you see?" Death asked.

"This is definitely an international organization. But very low budget. The most high tech thing here is last year's smart phone. The place is lit with actual torches. They probably can't get electricity down here.  Other than that, there is a podium, a map, a framed poem and that's it."

"Snap a pic of the poem. Maybe some of the surrounding area. You're doing great, Rodrigo," Marc said.

"Thanks," he said under his breath. He pulled out his phone, which was much more advanced than it looked. He wasn't going to use a secret agent trick this time. No, this was a trick used by those people who think they're being sneaky by taking a selfie to cover up the fact that they are actually just trying to get a shot of the attractive person behind them.

Rodrigo took a bunch of pics, most of them not showing the poem, and some with only one side of it. He didn't need a complete picture. That could be created from the little bits and prices being put together like a puzzle.

"Hey, no phones. You're supposed to check them at the door, remember? We can't have information on the poem or us getting leaked. Don't want anyone outside of us knowing," a guy said, he and a few of his friends approaching him.

"Right, sorry. I was just taking a selfie. I'll go put it in the bin right now," he said, heading to the door.

The man grabbed his arm. "Let me see the phone. You may need to delete some pics if they have the poem anywhere in them."

"They're just selfies, man. Let it go."

"If they're just selfies, then let me see the phone," he said.

"He knows. You need to confess and act like someone made you do it, place the blame on someone he trusts even less," Cindy said over comms.

"Alright," Rodrigo sighed. "They wanted me to take photos just in case. Worried about it getting destroyed or stolen."

"Why would that happen?" one of the other guys asked. "Is someone planning something we don't know about?"

"Who told you to take the photos?" a third asked.

"Don't give a straight answer. Act like it should be obvious," Cindy said.

Rodrigo looked at him levelly. "I think you know who."

The first guy turned to his friend. "You keeping secrets from me? You working for Marsanti, going ahead with that stupid tell-all plan? We can't have people doing their own thing here. We need to be united, and if--"

"Wait," the second one said. "Who said anything about Marsanti?"

Cue fight. Rodrigo slipped into the crowd as all attention turned to the three others.

"Thanks for the help there Cindy," he said. "You really saved me back there."

"You're welcome," she said proudly.

"Great job Rodrigo, Cindy. Now let's get back home," Marc said. "We've got a poem to read."