Code Name Tequila Ch. 17

Extracting themselves from the deteriorating situation, Isabella, Carlos, Marisa and Ria regrouped halfway across the room. Isabella, red with embarrassment, apologized for the behaviour of the VIPs. "I am so sorry," she said. "Usually the VIPs act nicely, but those men obviously had taken too much advantage of the free bar."

Carlos shook his head. "The worst thing is that their tires are shit. We are going to drop them next year and pick up a new supplier who can make tires that actually grip the racing surface. Ah well, all part of the job, I guess."

Isabella smiled and put a hand on Carlos' arm. "Thank you," she said, relived that Carlos seemed not to be too bothered.

Apologies complete, the four stood silently for a moment as conversation flagged. Ria took the opportunity the gap in conversation provided to survey the room. Ortiz had disappeared. Piston Clark was with his wife Lynda, and they were speaking to some television executives. Tabernas was in a group of people that included Simon Correa, one of the other drivers for the team and Marisa's date. Fernandez had joined the Cabo Blanco team's third driver Kasper at the bar, and was speaking to some of the beautiful young women who seemed to be constantly flocking around Kasper.

Ria turned back to her foursome. Isabella was scanning the room intently. Carlos was looking over at Fernandez at the bar. Marisa was watching Isabella, and seeing where she was looking.

Isabella finally broke the silence. "Well, I think I'm going to go to the toilet," she said, walking away quickly towards the ballroom exit.

Marisa turned and nodded. "Yes, I think I will as well." She strode off towards the exiting, following Isabella out the door.

Carlos put his hand on the small of Ria's back. He gestured with his head over towards the bar where Fernandez was. "What do you say we go and get a drink," he asked. Ria nodded, and the two strode over towards the bar.

As Ria and Carlos approached the bar, they watched as Fernandez downed two shots of Cabo Blanco's high end Platinum Tequila in quick succession. Fernandez, placing his empty glasses on the bar, turned to Kasper Ahlstad and the bevy of beauties that surrounded him.

"Can I buy you ladies a drink?" Fernandez asked. "I'm the Chief Operating Officer at Cabo Blanco Tequila, and I'd be happy to offer you ladies some of our nicest tequilas."

A couple of the gaggle of ladies turned away from the race car driver and towards Fernandez. "COO. That sounds like a very important job," said a thin, blonde woman, probably no more than 21.

"Yes, and in such an interesting industry," said the second girl, a dark skinned brunette with a large set of breasts almost spilling out of her low cut dress.

"Three Platinums. Make them doubles," Fernandez said, turning to the bartender. The bartender nodded silently and poured the three-ounce shots.

Ria and Carlos stood behind Fernandez at the bar, and eavesdropped as he regaled the girls with stories of the glamour and glory of being an executive at a distiller. The girls became more and more interested in Fernandez (and more physically affectionate) as he talked about the private jets, fast cars, glamorous parties and star-studded events that he jetted between. While Carlos sipped a club soda and Ria nursed a single glass of champagne, Fernandez, the blonde and the brunette shot their way through a bottle of one of the most expensive tequilas on the market, most of it going down Fernandez's throat.

With the bottle drained and the girls sufficiently enticed by Fernandez's stories of his lifestyle of riches and fame, Fernandez laid out the question he'd been wanting to ask all along. "So, are you girls interested in coming upstairs and seeing my suite. It has a Jacuzzi tube and private bar."

The girls looked at each other and smiled. "Sure, that sounds fun. But we don't have our swimsuits with us," the blonde said, mischievously.

Fernandez smiled. "Is that a problem," he asked, raising an eyebrow.

The brunette put a hand on his chest. "I don't think it's a problem at all."

Fernandez wrapped his arms around the women. "Good. I don't believe in problems anyway. Did you know in Chinese, the word for problem is the same word for opportunity? And it sounds like we have an excellent opportunity for some fun."

The girls laughed, and guided by Fernandez's hand on their backs, they left the ballroom.

Carlos and Ria watched them leave. "Should we follow," asked Ria.

Carlos shook his head. "No, we know where he'll be. Doubt much is going to happen that is of interest to our investigation." Carlos leaned back and sipped his club soda. As Carlos had to be out on the track bright and early tomorrow, he was laying off alcohol for the night. The looked up at the ceiling and thought for a moment, then turned to Ria. "Is that true, what Fernandez said, about the Chinese word for problem and opportunity being the same?"

Ria, a bit of an amateur linguist, shook her head. "No exactly. I don't know much Chinese, but I do know that that commonly repeat axiom isn't really true. The word for crisis is made up of two parts, and those syllables can also be found in the words for danger and opportunity. It isn't strictly true to say that the words are the same."

Carlos nodded. "It is kind of true, though, that a crisis is often an opportunity for change."

Ria took a sip of champagne and contemplated the concept. For her, this was certainly true. The opportunity to get out of a menial job in Mexico, make a significant financial gain, travel and world and gain the freedom to set a new path had been offered her by the CIA. However, she isn't sure she would have taken it if she had known that she would have been hunted by assassins and have been involved in a high speed chase and car crash. Not taking the opportunity would have meant that she wouldn't have gotten to know Carlos.

Ria smiled at the thought of Carlos, but then was taken aback when her mind quickly wandered and thought of Robert Chambers instead. She noted that happened frequently, in quiet moments when her mind wandered Robert Chambers, the CIA agent who trained her, would jump into her mind. She hadn't seen him in almost two months now, and yet he still found a way into her subconscious.

"You've been quiet for a bit, what are you thinking?" Carlos asked, breaking Ria from her stupor.

Ria stammered. She didn't want to tell Carlos about Chambers, so instead she decided to focus back on their work as spies. Looking around to make sure no-one was listening, she said softly, "the identity of the Aguila Roja. Obviously Tabernas seems a very likely candidate, but I can't help shaking the feeling that Ortiz could be more involved than you think. After all, did you see the way that Fernandez was agitated earlier, and it was only in speaking to Ortiz that he seemed calmed. We know that the Aguila Roja can inspire fear. We have to also assume that he can reassure his nervous workers as well."

Carlos flushed. "Impossible. I don't know why you would think that. Jorge Ortiz and everything he stands for flies into the face of the Aguila Roja. Ortiz wants to bring together the countries of South America and lift us up out of poverty and slavery to drug cartels. The Aguila Roja is the poster child for someone wanting to keep us enslaved to the supply chain for illegal drugs. There is no possibility."

Ria, seeing how animated Carlos had become, dropped the subject. She wasn't convinced though. Ortiz was surrounded by people tainted by illegal activity, and yet somehow managed to stay so clean and above suspicion. It seemed too convenient.

"I am going to go and get some air," Carlos said, obviously still wound up by the discussion. He got a refill on his club soda, and stomped out of the room.

Ria was left standing alone. She thought about following Carlos and apologising, but decided it would be best to let him cool down first. Instead, she walked out of the ballroom and found a quiet corner of the hotel lobby. She reached into the small purse she was carrying and felt Carlos' iPhone. Taking it out, she unlocked it with Carlos' unlock code (the birthday of his nephew), and pulled up the internet browser. She typed in the special secure address she had memorized for the CIA's intelligence database, and typed in the name "Jorge Ortiz."

Ria read through the information on Ortiz. Some of it she already knew, some was new. Jorge Ortiz was born in Bogota in 1957, the son of parents who were leftist intellectuals. His parents taught at a local university and were active in socialist political causes, and Ortiz followed suit, becoming a vocal advocate for a socialist Colombia while attending University City campus of the National University of Colombia. This attracted the attention of the Colombia security forces, and a file was started on him, joining the files already existing on his parents. These files formed the basis of the information that the CIA had on Ortiz as a youth and young university student.

Showing an incredible work ethic and high intellect, Ortiz won a scholarship to attend Stanford University in Palo Alto, California in 1976. It is here that the CIA's own files take over the story. At first Ortiz was still a strong leftist, and hung out mostly with the other Political Science students with a leftist bent. One of the students was an FBI plant, who collected information on all the students in the leftist groups, including Ortiz.

Ortiz's outlook slowly changed though as he learnt more and more about the USA. Though it wasn't perfect, Ortiz saw that democracy and free market economics did more to lift people out of poverty than communism. Ortiz shifted his studies from Political Science to economics and business.

It was the oil crisis of 1979 that really shifted Ortiz's politics, though. He knew that South America was resource rich, including oil reserves, and that as the rich countries of North America and started running out of resources, countries like Colombia would become more and more powerful. Ortiz started to gather a group of like minded Latin American students together, a group with the stated aim to remake Latin America into a world power not through armed revolution but rather through economic policy, resource management and development of a solid environment for business to flourish.

Ortiz graduated with a triple-major in Politics, Business and Economics, and then attended the Harvard School of Business in Massachusetts. He graduated two years later with an MBA as one of the top students in the class.

Ortiz returned to Colombia where he set up a think-tank, lobbying organisation and venture capital company. He would lobby governments across the Americas, getting them to adopt pro-business and liberal trading policies, and then fund companies to take advantage of the policies. He spent a lot of time in Washington gaining support for more liberal trade policies with Latin America, allowing companies ship processed goods into the huge American market.

His involvement in the Pan American racing league had surprised almost every observer. Ortiz merely said that he felt that sport, like business and politics, had a role to play in building a united and prosperous Central and South America, and thus he wanted to see the league succeed.

Ria leaned back to digest the information. While Ortiz had obviously become quite rich and powerful, the files indicated that he wasn't ruthless in business, and would often chose to pursue policies and fund businesses to maximise the unity in the Americas above maximising profits. She had to agree with Carlos, Ortiz didn't seem like someone who would foster a drug trade and terror organisation just for profit. In addition, Ria knew that the Aguila Roja had been operating in Mexico when she was a child. Ortiz had never lived in Mexico. At that time, Ortiz would have been working on getting his think-tank going in Colombia.

On the other hand, Ria couldn't declare Ortiz squeaky clean either. He was mysteriously involved in the Pan Am racing league, which she knew was run by the Aguila Roja. More than that, Piston had admitted to Ria that Ortiz basically run the entire racing league. Ortiz must know who he is working for.

Finally, it was obvious from what she and Carlos had seen over the past couple of weeks as they followed around Fernandez that Aguila Roja was up to something larger than just drug and arms running. Until she and Carlos could uncover the Aguila Roja's plan, she wasn't prepared to dismiss anyone as being suspect.

- - -

Fernandez, the blonde and the brunette were naked in the hot tub. While bubbles covered their bodies, they explored each other with their hands. Fernandez had one hand on one of the large breasts of the brunette, his other hand stroking the pussy lips of the blonde. The blonde had Fernandez's hard cock in her right hand, and her left hand was buried up to the knuckles in the brunette's pussy. The brunette was massaging Fernandez's balls with one hand, and rubbing the nipples of the blonde with the other.

The Jacuzzi tub was a large bathing area of the massive hotel suite. Just outside the door of the bathing area was a main sitting room with a bar, dining area and two couches. Beyond that was a bedroom with a king sized bed. Fernandez and the two girls had come up to the room, had a quick drink and stripped to get into the tub. They had been playing around with each other for about 15 minutes, and Fernandez could feel that he need to move to the next stage.

"I've had a shit day, but you girls have really brightened it up," he said. "How about you make it even better and we get out of this hot tub and into the bedroom where I can fuck you."

The girls just giggled. If Fernandez could have read their minds, he would have known that neither girls was actually all that interested in him physically, but both were attracted to him as a man that had money and power, and as a man of wealth and power could give them some of that as well.

Fernandez stood up and exited the hot tub. As he towelled off, the two girls sat on the side of the tub and put on a show for him, French kissing while their hands explored each other's wet pussies. The blonde was especially vigorous with her hand, pulsing it in and out of the brunette's pussy, burying four fingers into her wet slit.

"Oh, looks like somebody wants to get fisted," Fernandez said. "Let's get into the bedroom and get five fingers into that wide cunt."

Fernandez led the girls into the bedroom. The brunette lay down on the bed and bent her legs, opening her pussy wide. Fernandez sat on the bed and watched as the blonde inserted her hand into the brunette's pussy. She pushed her hand slowly forward and the pussy swallowed her up. First the tips of her fingers disappeared, then up to her knuckles, then the main part of her hand until it was buried in her cunt up to the wrist.

"Oh fuck, that's hot," Fernandez said. The brunette moaned loudly. The blonde started to thrust her hand in and out of the brunette's pussy. Fernandez watched, noting that the blonde's hand was now covered with a thin, glossy liquid.

Fernandez stood up and grabbed the blonde, tossing her onto her back on the bed. He climbed on top of her and inserted his cock into her pussy. The blonde moaned and wrapped her arms around Fernandez's neck. He started to push himself in and out of her.

The brunette lay on her back underneath Fernandez, the top of her head pressed up against the blonde's crotch. The brunette stuck out her tongue and started to lick Fernandez's balls and asshole as he pressed in and out of the blonde's pussy. Fernandez started to slow his pace, allowing the brunette's tongue ample time to bathe his sack and plunge into his asshole.

Fernandez pulled out of the blonde and stuck his dick into the mouth of the brunette. She sucked on it, able to taste the pussy juice from the blonde just dripping down the shaft of Fernandez's cock.

"I want to fuck that big wide pussy," Fernandez said to the brunette. The brunette lay on the bed on her back and spread her legs. Fernandez climbed between them and pushed himself into her cunt. Despite just having had a full fist inside her, the brunette's pussy was pleasingly tight for Fernandez. "Wow, you pussy lips must be made of rubber bands to open so wide and still be able to grip onto my cock so tight."

"Maybe your cock is just as big as a fist," the brunette said. Fernandez laughed and pushed deeper into her.

The blonde straddled the brunette's face and lowered her pussy down onto her mouth. The brunette responded by lapping at the wet pussy and hard clit. The blonde grabbed the brunette by the top of her hair and started to guide her licking. Soon the brunette was feverishly licking and sucking on the blonde's clit, while at the same time grinding her hips against Fernandez's cock.

The brunette's tongue was skilled, and the blonde quickly came to climax. She reached out, steadying herself against the wall of the bedroom as her body shook with orgasmic energy. The brunette could feel the muscle spasms across her face, and smiled knowing that she had brought such pleasure to the cute, thin blonde.

The brunette's pussy was skilled as well, along with the shake of her hips. Fernandez couldn't last much longer either. He pulled out right before climax, and jerking himself off for the last few strokes, shot a load of cum onto the belly of the brunette and the back of the blonde, who was still straddling the brunette's face as her body completed the last few shivers of orgasm.

Fernandez lay back on the bed, allowing himself time to recover. While he let his energy recharge, he watched as the two girls busied themselves with each other's bodies. Fernandez enjoyed watching the girls explore each other with their tongues.

It was making up for what had otherwise been a lousy and stressful day.

- - -

Carlos stood outside the hotel, looking up into the dark sky. Ria's questioning of Ortiz had angered him. He shouldn't have let it do so, but he knew in his heart that Ortiz was a good man. He provided hope for a better future for Colombia. Hope was something that was often lacking in Colombian politics, and Carlos, along with many other Colombians, were excited by the prospect of a better and fairer tomorrow. Ortiz was a fresh wind blowing through the corrupt and crooked political system.

Carlos knew, though, that he shouldn't have expected Ria to know all that. He knew Ria wasn't a full CIA agent, just a plant put in place to gather some intel. He doubted that the CIA would have expected her to provide any information, let alone take it upon herself to investigate the Aguila Roja as she had. Because of that, she wouldn't have been briefed with full details on the politics of every South American country, and Carlos had been up in Mexico and the USA enough to know that coverage of politics from the South was non-existent.

These thoughts cooled Carlos down. His blood boiling less, he decided to go and find Ria and apologise. He turned around and walked back into the lobby of the hotel.

Ria was so engrossed in the information on Ortiz that she did not hear Carlos come up behind her. Carlos leaned over the chair to see Ria reading a page which was headed with a picture of Ortiz.

"What are you doing?" Carlos asked, grabbing the phone. He surveyed the information on the page. "Researching Ortiz! Honestly, why do you persist in this? Ortiz is a good man, and would not... could not be the Aguila Roja. That is it," Carlos said, put the phone in his pants pocket. "We know that Fernandez knows the identity of the Aguila Roja. Let's just go and get it out of him."

Carlos walked briskly across the lobby towards the elevators. Ria jumped up, calling after him. "Carlos, be sensible. You have worked so hard for two years on this. Don't jeopardize that by doing something rash."