Code Name Tequila Ch. 06

Rodrigo nodded. "Thank you, Piston. Ria, this is Walter Clark, CEO of the Pan American Racing league. Piston, this is Ria, one of our Cabo Blanco Ambassadors."

Ria shook Clark's hand. The man smiled and said, "please, call me Piston. Everyone does."

The Hispanic man gave Rodrigo a hug. "Rodrigo, so sad to hear the news. How are you doing?"

Rodrigo gave a faint smile. "Thank you, Jorge. I am going well. Jorge Ortiz, this is Ria Ortega." Ria shook Ortiz's hand as Rodrigo explained Ortiz's role. "Jorge is the officially the league's Advisor on Latin America, but I don't think that really captures all he does for us. He a former lawyer and lobbyist, so he is good at smoothing the path through the maze of governments, politics and regulations."

Jorge laughed, revealing a bright white smile. "I am not a former lawyer, they haven't taken away my license! Pleased to meet you, Ria."

Piston turned to Rodrigo. "Rodrigo, can Jorge and I have a moment of your time to discuss some matters of regulation?"

Rodrigo nodded. "Of course." He turned to Ria, "I hope you will excuse me, I am sure discussing technical details on course layouts or air-foils will probably not be of interest to you." Ria nodded, and the three men walked away.

Ria heard a voice behind her. "I didn't think we'd be seeing you again, butterfly."

Ria turned to see Carlos Sanz. She forced a smile across her face. "Carlos, good to see you."

"Such a shame about Luis. So young for a heart attack, and he was in decent shape. It almost seems unbelievable," Carlos said. Ria wondered if that statement was just an innocent turn of phrase, or held something deeper. If Fernandez is well connected to the Aguila Roja, if not the Aguila Roja himself, and Carlos is working for Fernandez, than Carlos could know what really happened. Given the talk that Rodrigo had with her in the elevator, though, she wasn't going to deviate from the standard line.

"It was quite a shock. I had become quite close to him, so it had been a hard few days," she said.

Carlos nodded, and then raised his hand. He pressed his fingers against her cheek. Ria flinched. He had pressed against one of the bruises left by Gaston. She had tried to cover it up with make-up, but obviously Carlos had been able to see it.

He frowned. "I hope in your grief, you haven't been hurting yourself," he said.

Ria flushed. She wasn't sure what to say, but was luckily saved when a thin man with dark hair slapped his hand down on Carlos' shoulder. "Carloooz, 'ello. 'Ow are you? Ready to lose anodder champ-ee-on-ship dis year?" the man said in the thick French Canadian accent.

"No, Jacques, this season I am ready to win one," Carlos said, his eyes narrowing.

The French Canadian turned to Ria. "And who are you?" he asked. He looked the Cabo Blanco logo on her shirt, holding his gaze and obviously admiring her breasts at the same time. "You should come and work for a real team, like Patterson Racing. It is the team which I, Jacques LaRoc, race for, and the team which I, Jacques LaRoc, won a championship with last year. It is a team with talented and sexy drivers like I, Jacques LaRoc."

Ria held out her hand, and LaRoc shook it. Ria smiled and said, "I'm sorry, what was your name again?"

Carlos sniggered while Jacques' smile faded. "Whatever. You can keep 'anging with dis loser 'ere, Mr. Sanz. There are many fish in dis sea." LaRoc turned and walked away.

Ria and Carlos looked at each other for a moment, sly smiles on their faces. Finally Ria said, "well, the team which I, Ria Ortega work for requires me, Ria Ortega, to go out and schmooze our clients, so I should get at it. Speak to you later, Carlos."

Carlos smiled. "Yes, stay safe, butterfly."

Carlos has sounded sincere, but Ria couldn't be sure if his words were meant as a blessing or a threat.

* *

Ria was exhausted. After all she had been through over the past few days, it was very tiring having to spend a whole night being entertaining and pretending to be interested in a bunch of mostly dull, middle-aged old men with big salaries and narrow areas of interest, those being racing cars, rates of return on index funds and Ria's boobs, though not necessarily in that order. She was walking through the casino floor of the MGM Grand heading to the elevator bank that would take her back to her room when she saw him sitting at the bar with a bottle of Mexican beer in his hand. It was Piston Clark, CEO of the racing series. Ria walked over to him.

"Piston, how are you?" Ria said.

Piston looked at Ria through blurry eyes. "Fine, missy, fine. Grab a seat here, little lady, and keep me company for a bit. What is your name again?"

"Ria," she said sitting on the stool beside Piston. The bartender took Ria's order and returned with a cold bottle of Dos Equus, a lime wedge sticking out of the top.

"Ria, pretty name. Pretty name for a pretty girl. Are you enjoying working for the Cabo Blanco team, Ria?" Piston asked.

"Yes, it is a very good job," Ria said, lying.

"Liking your job is good. It's important. I used to like my job, back when I drove a race car. I miss driving. Now my job is all politics. You know, I thought being CEO meant I was in charge. I'm not in charge," he said.

No, thought Ria, the Aguila Roja is in charge. "Who is in charge," she asked.

"The fuckin' money men, with their Goddamn dollar bills and the fuckin' politicians. I gotta answer for every penny. I gotta justify everything. I gotta kiss so much ass. Thank god for Ortiz," Piston said, referring to Jorge Ortiz, the Advisor on Latin America Ria had met earlier. "Ortiz is so good at that stuff. He used to be a very powerful lobbyist, you know. Working in Washington and across the Americas for the causes of Latin America. Negotiated a bunch a trade deals between nations. Big shit. He's got a bunch of degrees from Ivy League schools here in the USA. You know why he works for us?"

Ria shook her head.

"Because he believes in the power of sport to bring the Americas together. That's his dream, a unified, strong Latin America. He's a right Simon Bolivar with degrees from Harvard and Stanford. Yup, good guy. He's running the show, though. He does all the negotiations, arranges everything. I'm just a figure head now, and not much of one at that. You know, he is thinking of running to be President of Colombia! Can you believe that? It'd be sad to see him go, 'cause he'd be hard to replace, but I'd be all right with it, because then he wouldn't make me work as hard. I work too fuckin' hard, you know what I mean?" Piston looked at Ria, his eyes watery and unfocused. His throat spasmed, his eyes rolled back in his head and he fell off his stool.

Two security guards rushed over. "Is he okay?" Ria asked.

"Yes, he's fine, other than having too much to drink," one of the guards said. "He does this every year during the Grand Prix. We'll take Mr. Clark up to his room." The security guards picked up Piston and dragged him towards the elevator banks.

* *

The next couple of days flew by. Ria and the other Cabo Blanco Ambassadors had a full schedule of appearances and photography sessions to attend, each one requiring a change of clothes into increasingly skimpy outfits.

Ria was happy to see Piston was fine the next day, though he seemed to spend a lot of time rubbing his head. Ria smiled at him, he smiled back but looked confused. Quite possibly he didn't remember talking to Ria last night.

Ria remembered the chat, and kept her eye on Ortiz. He did seem to run things, constantly buzzing from event to event, glad-handing with important officials and clients. Ria often saw him off in a corner having a deep conversation with people that were identified to her as local politicians, senators, CEOs and lobbyists. Ria hadn't realized just how many important people were connected to the racing series, especially from the political realm. All these politicians had a stake in things going well and bringing in big dollars in tourism, business and sponsorship to their area. If Ortiz wanted to be President of Colombia, he'd already made a number of key international connections, and Ria assumed when they got to the Colombian race in a months time, see see that Ortiz was similarly connected.

Ria also continued to keep an eye on Andre Fernandez, COO of Cabo Blanco. He mostly spent his time talking to the same folks that Ortiz was speaking with, but there were times when Fernandez would disappear for hours at a time. Of course, Ria noted that where Fernandez was, Carlos Sanz was usually not far away. When Fernandez would disappear, Carlos would soon disappear as well. Ria made a note that she would have to follow Fernandez and see where he was going.

Unfortunately, Ria was having a tough time getting away. Isabella kept the four Cabo Blanco Ambassadors on a very tight schedule. A few times Ria tried to sneak away to check on Fernandez, but Isabella would round her back up and shuffle her to the next event. The only down time was usually for a couple hours in the afternoon or very late at night. Ria had wanted to use the time in the afternoon to follow Fernandez, but got roped into keeping Emma company. Emma was bored because none of the other girls would spend time with her, and Ria felt she owed Emma some time after how nice Emma had been to her in Cordoba.

During the downtime Isabella and Marisa would disappear upstairs. Ria and Emma discretely followed them one day, and were not surprised to see them disappear together into Isabella's hotel room. "Told you they were sleeping together," Emma said.

Gabriela, who had been such a wallflower and cold fish down in Argentina, suddenly opened up and became very gregarious and friendly, though not to Emma or Ria. Instead, she saved her affection and friendliness for clients and VIPs, especially Piston, who Gabriela was spotted flirting with on numerous occasions. "He's got a wife, I wonder if she knows that," Emma said on seeing Gabriela laughing and stroking Piston's arm at dinner one night.

The Thursday afternoon break, three days after first arriving in Las Vegas, provided Ria the opportunity she needed to follow Fernandez. Emma was off entertaining a couple of executives from some music publishing company, which gave Ria a couple of free hours. She went upstairs and changed into a black polo shirt and pair of black jeans, and came back down to the lobby to see Fernandez leaving the hotel. He got into a black Mercedes and pulled away. Ria ran out to the front of the hotel and watched as Fernandez's car headed North of Las Vegas Boulevard.

Ria was about to get into a taxi when a man pulled up on a Yamaha motorcycle. He removed his helmet and looked at Ria. "Can you park this without falling off it?" he asked snidely. Ria looked at his confused, but then looked over at another valet pulling a car around. He was dressed in a black top and black pants, just like Ria. The man thought Ria was a valet.

Ria smiled and saluted. "Yes sir, no problem. I have a motorcycle license," she said. The man hopped off the bike, attaching the helmet to the seat. Ria hopped on and smiled.

"What about my claim ticket?" the man said.

Ria looked down at the ground and noticed a discarded claim ticket lying on the drive. "Oh, I'm sorry sir, I must have dropped it on the ground there. Do you think you could grab it for me?"

The man let out a loud sigh, and bent over, mumbling that she wasn't going to get a tip for that. Ria didn't hear him though, as she had already popped the clutch and headed out onto the road.

At the first red light, Ria undid the helmet from the seat, and put it on her head. She didn't want to get pulled over by the police. She scanned the traffic ahead, and saw Fernandez's Mercedes stopped at a light in the left hand turn lane. The light for Ria turned green, and she gunned the throttle and took off up Las Vegas Boulevard. When she had covered half the distance between her and the Mercedes, the light for Fernandez turned green, and he made his turn.

Ria sped through the light and made a turn in front of oncoming traffic, bringing a squealing of brakes and a blare of horns from the angry drivers. Ria saw the Mercedes merging onto the highway. Ria quickly closed the gap and way on Fernandez's tail by the time the Mercedes had made it onto the highway.

Ria hung a few cars back and followed Fernandez as he sped up highway 15 and merged onto highway 95. Fernandez eased his Merc over the right and exited onto Rancho Drive. Ria followed, keeping a car between her and Fernandez just in case he was watching for a tail.

Fernandez drove along Rancho for about 2 miles before pulling into the parking lot of a Casino called the Texas Station. Ria followed him into the parking lot, and watched Fernandez turned into a multi-story parking garage. Ria eased the bike around the corner to follow him, but had to slam on the brakes as a large SUV pulled out of a parking spot in front of her. Ria stopped the bike just inches from the side of the van.

The window rolled down and a woman leaned out. "Oh my God, I am so sorry!" she said to Ria before turning towards the driver of the SUV, "Herb, you almost ran over a motorcycle. Are you a moron? Why don't you look where you are going."

"I was looking. That fucker on the motorcycle was driving too fast," Ria heard from the car, loud enough that she could hear it over the engine of the bike. Ria groaned. While these two were arguing, they weren't moving, and because of the size of the SUV, she couldn't see Fernandez anymore.

Ria pushed the bike back far enough until she could make a turn, and drove around the SUV. She looked up and down the lanes of the parking garage, but couldn't see the black Merc. She was about to proceed up to the second level when she spotted a blue Ford Taurus with Carlos Sanz at the wheel. "Where Fernandez is, Carlos Sanz is sure to be as well," she said, and turned the bike to follow the Taurus.

Carlos drove out the back of the hotel, and made a couple of turns in quick succession. Soon the car was driving down an otherwise deserted road. Ria laid off the throttle, letting the car build up some distance. She didn't want to get Carlos' suspicions raised. Her Ria a loud roar from above her. She looked up and watched as a plane came down and landed in the field beside her. This wasn't the airport that Ria had landed at. "A second airport," she concluded, before turning her attention back to the Taurus. Up ahead, it made a right turn into a industrial park with a large set of warehouses. Once the car was out of sight behind the buildings, Ria gunned the bike and quickly closed the gap.

Ria cruised by the warehouse. She saw Carlos getting out of the car, and walking around to the back of the warehouse. Ria drove down the road for 20 seconds and then turned around, coming back to the warehouse. She parked the bike on the other side of the warehouse, and then sneaked along the wall until she came to a flight of stairs on the exterior of the building. Ria walked up the stairs and tried the door. It was locked, but she could tell the lock was loose. Ria put her ear to the door. From inside she could hear a lot of loud noise. "They aren't likely to hear me breaking the door," she said. Ria grabbed the door and pulled with all her strength. The lock groaned and gave way, and the door swung open.

Ria walked into the warehouse and onto a darkened catwalk. Below here on the floor of the warehouse were a number of shipping containers and three tractor trailer trucks. Forklifts were unloading pallets from the trucks and putting them into the shipping containers. Ria looked closely at the pallets.

A man with a clipboard was directing the loading. Gaston, Rodrigo's goon, was standing beside him.

The man with the clipboard looked at a pallet and then said to the forklift driver, "RPG-18s. There should be six pallets in the trucks. Load four pallets into the containers for South America, and two pallets into the container for Dogstar."

Gaston snorted. "I don't understand why we are fucking helping the Dogstar."

The man with the clipboard shook his head. "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, Gaston. Aguila Roja placates the Dogstar so that he doesn't do anything to disrupt our plans."

Ria scanned the warehouse, but didn't see either Fernandez or Carlos. Seeing Gaston and hearing the Aguila Roja mentioned was enough to let her know this is something that Black Oak would want to know about. Ria crept out of the warehouse and back to her bike. She took off back towards the hotel, making a quick circle of the building. Carlos' Blue Taurus was gone.

* *

Ria returned to the MGM Grand, pulling up to the main door. She drove up and saw the owner of the Yamaha just walking out of the front door. Ria drove up and pulled off the helmet. "Your bike, sir," she said.

The man raised an eyebrow. "Thank god you found it. I called down and the idiot at the valet desk said that my claim ticket number was invalid."

Ria nodded. "Mmm, yes, sorry about that. Luckily I overheard the conversation, and was able to pull the bike around. Next time you park the bike, get a new claim ticket just in case."

The man smiled and handed Ria a five dollar bill. "Thanks for that."

Ria walked away, putting the five dollars in her pocket. The man got on the bike. Ria heard him say to himself, "I thought I had more gas than that," just as the front doors to the hotel closed behind her.

* *

Ria filed a written report to the CIA on what she had seen at the warehouse, including the dual shipments of weapons, one going to South America and the other going to "The Dogstar." A few minutes after filing the report, her phone rang.

"Hold for Black Oak, please," the anonymous voice on the other end of the line said. Black Oak, a man without a real name, too important to make even his own calls. The line clicked.

"Dogstar, they said that?" Black Oak said by way of greeting. Straight down to business.

"Yes, part of the shipment was going to The Dogstar. What does that mean? I assume they aren't shooting a cache of weapons into space."

"No, Dogstar is the nickname of Dogzar Dragoma, a Romanian organised crime boss who controls a large portion of the drugs, weapons and prostitution trade in Eastern Europe, the middle east and south-east Asia. There were rumours a few years ago that Dragoma wanted to expand his trade into Latin America, and a spat of violence followed on both side of the Pacific, but in the end Dogstar seemed to retreat and leave the region to the Aguila Roja. We have to assume that Aguila Roja has come to some sort of peaceful weapons for territory deal with Dragoma. Interesting."

"What do you want me to do?" Ria asked.

"Keep up your cover. Stick close to Rodrigo and Fernandez, and see what you can find out. We'll put someone else to follow the weapons," Black Oak said. The line clicked dead without even a goodbye from Black Oak. Too busy to make his own phone calls. Too busy to say goodbye.

* *

The next morning Las Vegas woke up to a very different scene along the strip. Throughout the night workers had assembled a race track out of portions of Las Vegas Boulevard, East Sands Avenue, Paradise Road and a number of the parking lots and vacant lots along the way. Barriers were erected, grand stands put in place, fencing and ticket booths surrounding the site. The MGM Grand, where Ria was staying, was further south than the actual track, but the strip out front was still shut down as traffic was diverted onto Tropicana Avenue.

The day's schedule was full. The drivers were out testing the cars for most of the day, making sure that the million dollar machines performed to their peak efficiency on the track, and that meant that Ria and the other Cabo Blanco Ambassadors spent the day entertaining VIPs in the owner's box. Lots of drunken CEOs with grabby hands, by the end of the day Ria's ass was sore with all the slaps and pinches it had received. She wondered how many of the men would have so jovially pinched her bottom if they knew the secret she held between her legs.