Code Name Tequila Ch. 09

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April and May get lost in the slums of Brazil.
8.3k words
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Part 9 of the 23 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 04/29/2009
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A few US dollars loosened the tongue of the doorman of Dr. Patterson's Rio apartment. "The doctor is going to Jacarezinho," the doorman said, squinting into the morning sun at the two girls wearing jeans and tshirts who had just come out of the luxury apartment on Copacabana beach.

"What's that?" asked May.

"Jacarezinho is a favela in the north of the city. It is a shanty town, some 60,000 people living there," the doorman explained.

"We need a taxi to take us there," April said.

The doorman shook his head. "No, I don't think it is safe to go unless you have a guide. If you want, I can arrange tour of one of the favelas for you. You could see a samba school and get authentic Brazilian food."

May pressed another forty US dollars into the doorman's hand. "We really need to catch up to Dr. Patterson," they said.

The doorman looked at the money for a moment, trying to decide what to do. Finally, he relented, and whistled for a taxi off the street. "I don't know where Dr. Patterson is specifically going in the favela, but I will get the taxi to take you to the metro stop on the outskirts. Please, be careful. Perhaps when you get there, you can use some of your abundant US dollars to hire a guide," he said.

The taxi took a little over 40 minutes to get to Jacarezinho. During that time, April called up Peter, their local contact in Rio. He warned them to be careful in the favela. "They aren't slums, per se, but they do have problems with drugs, gangs and violence. You really shouldn't enter the area alone. Why don't you come to the embassy, and we can work something out to figure out where Dr. Patterson is going."

"Do you have any resources at your disposal? Men to tail him, analysts to research?" April asked.

Peter snorted. "No, they don't give me anything like that. I'm sure the three of us can figure something out," he said.

April thought it over. Patterson said he would be flying off to Caracas in a few days, and the girls wouldn't get a chance to run into him again. "We'll think it over," she lied, hanging up the phone. She looked over at May. "It's just you and me, sister. No backup available."

May smiled. "I think we can handle ourselves," she said.

The taxi driver looked into the rear view mirror with a worried look.

The taxi dropped the girls by the Jacarezinho metro station. The girls looked at what lay before them. The favela was a warren of tightly packed houses and narrow alleys, in most cases not wide enough for vehicular traffic. The houses were small, mostly concrete structures, most had some electricity running to them, but they were otherwise very basic. Some of the walls were covered with graffiti, while others were obviously well tended and recently painted. Many of the more well maintained houses were protected by large metal shutters and iron gates, while others were lacking even basics like windows.

The girls walked into Jacarezinho, passing people streaming out towards the metro, workers on their way to their jobs elsewhere in the city. Many of them were dressed in the wardrobe of manual workers - factory outfits, uniforms or the basic clothes of cleaning ladies, though some of the workers were dressed in suits and ties or business apparel.

The sun was still low in the sky, so the streets were shaded and cool. A few of the small concrete buildings held shops that were already open, most of them selling coffee, tea and breakfast items. A couple of other buildings were shops just opening up, a mix of the daily requirements of life - hairdressers, laundry, clothing shops, furniture, locksmiths.

Most of the people passing them paid little attention to April and May. The crowds were for the most part black, but there was a mix of ethnicities and so Korean April and Mexican May didn't stand out too much.

April and May walked into the favela for two and a half blocks. They came to a vacant lot, a rare place where the sun was able to cast its light on the narrow streets this early in the morning. April and May paused in the sun, and discussed their options.

"The place is huge, and its a maze," April said. "How are we going to find Dr. Patterson in here?"

May looked around. "I think a well-dressed white man would probably stick out here. Maybe if we asked around, we could find someone who could direct us to him."

April sighed. "Neither of us speaks Portuguese, though."

May wobbled her head. "Spanish and Portuguese are close. I speak a little Spanish, so I can probably make myself understood. Why don't we press on a few more blocks, and see if we can find someone to help us."

The two girls walked further into the favela. The pre-work crowd was now thinning, and the girls saw more young mothers and families out doing some early morning shopping in the clothing shops, fruit stands and vegetable markets that were now opened.

May grabbed April's arm and pointed at a small, open building that had a sign painted above that said, "hairdresser." Inside was a single barber chair and a sink. A beautiful, dark-skinned Brazilian woman was sweeping the shop. "Women gossip when they get their hair styled. I bet they'd know if some old white guy was sneaking around the area."

The girls entered the small hair stylist's shop. May introduced herself, and asked in broken Spanish if the woman knew where there was an older white man. May tried to explain they were looking for him because they were friends, but the hair stylist just looked confused.

May frowned. She obviously wasn't making herself understood. She tried again in broken Spanish. "Have you seen a white American man in this place?"

The hair stylist shook her head. She said something quickly in Portuguese, pointed further into the favela. May picked up a few words, and tried to translate for April. "She said something about Americans working for poor people with medicine in that direction," May said.

"Dr. Patterson could be involved with medicine," April replied. May nodded. They two girls thanked the hair stylist and head out further into the favela.

They two girls walked for about 40 minutes, winding their way through the narrow, twisting streets of Jacarezinho. Occasionally they would ask the locals if they knew where the "American doctors" were, but mostly just got shrugs in reply.

After 40 minutes, the girls were lost. They had made so many twists and turns, they weren't sure how to even get out. There only clue was the sun poking up above the rooftops letting them know the direction of east.

April pointed east. "We came from the east. I don't think we are going to find Patterson this way. Let's just head back towards the east and try and find the metro station again," she said.

The girls started walking back towards the way they came, but the streets started to look different than the ones they had passed before. Instead of the colourful little shops of clothes and food, these streets held mostly iron gated buildings, many of which worryingly were scarred with bullet holes. Instead of the workers off to the metro station or young families shopping, most of the people they saw were shifty looking men who either eyed them suspiciously or leered at them lustfully.

"This doesn't seem like the right way," May said. "I think we should head back towards where we were before."

April nodded. "That seems smart."

The girls turned, but realized that they weren't exactly sure which way they came from. They both could remember the last couple of streets, but after that, all the lefts and rights became jumbled in their heads.

From behind them the girls heard someone call out. "hey Senhoras, posso ajudar?"

The girls turned around. There was a group of 4 men standing in the roadway looking at them. Both April and May noted the bulges under their t-shirts. All four of the men had pistols tucked into their belts. April started backing away.

May put up her hands, "No, obrigado. Estamos bien," she said, mixing both Spanish and Portuguese words together with her American accent.

One of the men stepped forward. "What are you, Americans?" he asked in English.

April turned around, thinking of running, but as she turned she saw three men walking towards them from the other direction. She and May were surrounded. April grabbed May's arm, and May turned quickly to see the men coming from the other direction.

May turned back to the English speaker and nodded. "Yes, Americans. Just a little lost. We were with a tour, but I think we got separated. Can you tell us how to get to the Metro station?" she said, hoping that the stupid American tourist routine would defuse the situation.

The man said something to his compatriots, the few words of which May understood. The two troubling ones were "Americans" and "ransom."

"We are just a couple of backpackers," May said. "We don't have much money. We aren't big corporate types, not worth a lot for kidnapping."

The English speaker raised an eyebrow. "Ah, so you speak a little Portuguese, then. Well, if you are just two backpacking girls who aren't worth anything for ransom, then I have to accept that. Of course, that doesn't mean we still can't make some money off you." The man started thrusting his hips back and forth. "If you don't have a rich Mommy and Daddy to pay, then you can make your money on your back!" he screamed. His friends all started laughing.

April and May turned and backed up against on of the walls, each turned 45 degrees out towards the men. By moving against the wall, they had protected their backs, and by sticking close together meant that no more than a three or four of the seven men could attack at a time. Assuming, of course, they didn't decide to use their guns.

The men slowly advanced, and English speaker taking the lead. "Come on now, ladies. Don't fight. If you fight, then you get cut and bruised. Cut and bruised girls aren't worth as much as fresh faced beauties," he said, as he slowly walked forwards. April and May got into defensive stances.

The English speaker got to within arms length. He reached out to touch May's face. She grabbed his arm and twisted it, causing the man's body to swing about. May raised the man's arm and brought her other hand down on the man's shoulder. He screamed in pain.

Two of the other men ran at April. They tried to grapple her, but without having planned in advance, the two men ended up banging into each other. April punched one of the men in the neck. He staggered backwards. The second man got his arms partially around April. She grabbed his head and smashed it against the wall. He grunted, falling to one knee. April jammed her thumbs into his eye sockets, and the man fell backwards.

May kicked the English speaker's knee. She heard a loud crack and the man screamed again as his legs gave out. May pushed him away and the man stumbled forward, his injured knee unable to support him and he sprawled out onto the ground on his face.

The four remaining men kept back, drawing their pistols. They started shouting at the girls in Portuguese, waving their weapons at the girls threateningly.

April and May looked at each other. They were surrounded by the men with no escape routes. The men were far enough away that any moves towards them would allow the men enough time to shoot.

"Are only hope is that they are bad shots," April said, low enough that only May could hear her above the men's shouting.

May nodded. "Okay. On three, run at them. You take the two on the left, I take the two on the right."

April nodded and took a deep breath. May started to count. "One... Two..."

The men stopped shouting as a gunshot rang out. April flinched. She looked down at her torso, but didn't see any blood nor did she feel wounded. She looked over at May, who was similarly unharmed.

"Did they miss?" April asked.

Just then one of the men fell to the ground, and April and May were able to see the back of the man's shirt was soaked with blood.

The three remaining standing men turned to try and find the source of the gunfire. April and May bolted down the road. One of the men turned and ran after them, while the other two still were searching for the source of the gunshot.

The man chasing April and May raised his pistol and fired. The shot flew high and wide, cracking into the cement of a nearby building, causing chunks of cement to rain down on the fleeing women.

The girls turned a corner and fled down a street that was only about five feet wide. The narrow alley was strewn with garbage, and the women found themselves slowed considerably as they weaved between the piles of trash. April looked back and saw one of the thugs raising his pistol and aiming at them. "Duck," she cried, diving behind a pile of rubbish. May dropped onto her stomach just as a bullet whizzed through the air above them.

April popped up and tried to run, but quickly dropped back down to the ground as part of the cement wall above her head exploded with the force of a bullet.

"We're trapped," April said.

May pressed herself up against the wall behind a pile of trash. There was enough of a gap to see the gunman walking down the alley towards them. He held his pistol out in front of him, looking for any movement from the girls as he progressed slowly and carefully down the alley.

May looked around for something to use as a weapon, but all the rubbish in the alley was soft and soggy. She looked back towards the man, who was now no more than 20 feet from her and April.

The gunmen watched the alley intently ahead of him, looking for any sign of movement from the girls and was thus unaware of the hulking-form dropping down from the rooftop behind him. The gunman was completely unprepared as the man from the rooftop smashed his hulking arms down onto the back of his neck.

May watched as the gunman crumpled. The man who had hit him was massive, probably six and a half feet tall and very muscular. He had dark skin and dark hair and was wearing a black tshirt and black cargo pants. May thought he might be police, but decided it best not to take any chances. "Run," she screamed to April.

The two girls darted out of the alley and turned left, sprinting down a deserted narrow set of steps. The steps wound to the left, and the girls couldn't see ahead. They were surprised when they came across two of the thugs who had surrounded them before, pointing their weapons at the girls.

May and April turned to run back, but were blocked by two more thugs. April and May recognized them as the English Speaker and the one that April had punched in the throat. Obviously both had recovered, and this time were taking no chances, as both had their pistols out.

The English speaker smiled. "You girls had your chance to get out of this alive, if you had just co-operated with me. Instead, now you'll wind up being reported in the American papers as another couple of missing tourists in Brazil."

The English speaker pointed his weapon at April's head. She was about to lunge for him when a shot rang out, the bullet causing the left temple English speaker's head to explode in a flash of blood and bone. He slumped to the ground lifelessly.

Behind them, shots rang out. May looked over her shoulder to see a lean black man with a pistol in each hand running towards the two thugs and firing. The thugs fired back wildly. Even though the black man was running, his aim was excellent, and the two thugs fell to the ground with bullet wounds in their torsos.

The final standing thug started running back up the steps, but was clothes-lined by the hulk of the man who had been waiting hidden in a doorway. The large man removed the thug's weapon, and knocked him unconscious with a single blow from his meaty fist.

A third man holding a rifle jumped down from the roof. He was small but obviously in decent shape, with a well-toned torso visible through his tight black t-shirt. He had a dark, wavy hair and olive skin with kind, brown eyes.

The man with the rifle walked up to April and May. "Are you all right?" he asked them in English.

"Fine," May said. "Thank you for rescuing us from those thugs."

The man looked down at the corpses. "Drug gangs, the scourge of our little neighbourhood. The police occasionally come in to try and clean them up, but they don't really care enough. That is why we need to take the law into our own hands."

"So, you are like the neighbourhood watch?" May said, laughing.

The man smiled. "I guess you could say that. I am Dr. Hector Olivera," he said, shaking May's hand. May introduced herself and April. Dr. Olivera introduced his two comrades. The hulking man was called Orgo, while the slim black man was Borda.

Borda raised his arm for Dr. Olivera to look at. The arm had been grazed by a bullet. Olivera turned to the girls. "It's not bad, but I should go back to my office and clean up the wound. I would suggest the best thing for you girls would be to come with us, for your own safety. Most of the favela is fine, but a few bad apples spoil the bunch, as you Americans say."

As they walked back to Olivera's office, he explained what he, Orgo and Borda were doing. Olivera had grown up in the Jacarezinho, but had been lucky to get out thanks to his brains, and became a doctor. He had a private practice in Rio for a while, but felt like he wasn't contributing enough to society, so he moved back into the favela to provide medical care for the residents. It soon became obvious, though, that the favela needed more than just affordable medical care. They needed a strong, positive influence. So now Dr. Olivera provides a political voice for the poor and also, when needed, provides protection and justice for the residents.

"You are like a real life Batman," said April.

Olivera laughed. "Yes, maybe, but without the ears on my hat," he said, pointing at his thick, wavy black hair.

Dr. Olivera's office wasn't much. A few rooms with a couple of examination tables and a few cupboards full of medicines. Borda hopped up on one of the examination tables and removed his shirt. He was incredibly toned without an ounce of fat on his thin frame. His dark skin glistened under the lights of the examination room. Dr. Olivera cleaned the wound, and determined that stitches weren't required, instead dressing the wound with a gauze bandage.

Borda's wound taken care of, Dr. Olivera turned his attention back to April and May. "So, can we take you girls someplace?" he asked.

"I wish we had some way of thanking you for saving us," May said. "Surely there must be something we can provide?"

"Well, I could give you the website of a charity I have set up to fund the purchase of medicines for the clinic. It is hard to get donations often. Last month we had an meningitis outbreak, but couldn't treat all the children we saw. Luckily, the Christian doctors have helped out with that as well."

Olivera handed May a card with a website address on it. "We are always accepting donations," Olivera said.

May looked at Olivera's kind face, his engaging smile, his sparking, dark eyes and full head of thick, lustrous hair. "While we will both contribute to your clinic, I was thinking of something else as well. Maybe something a little more personal than a donation," she said.

April looked over at May, shocked. April had been feeling attracted to their saviours, but May seemed to be pushing it. After all, she had no idea if the men even know the two girls were transsexuals. "May," April said. "Maybe just the cash donation is a better idea."

Orgo, even though he didn't speak English, could read the expression on May's face. He said something in Portuguese to Olivera. Olivera smiled and turned to the girls. "Orgo wants to know if you girls feel like rewarding each of your knights in shining armour with a kiss. Or maybe more?"

May smiled and walked over a planted a kiss on Orgo's cheek. April blanched, and turned to Olivera. "I am afraid my friend might be letting the events of this morning go to her head. I don't think that we would be offering the kind of reward you are looking for."