Thirty four hours and one point six million Rupees later, it’s good to have an expense account; I arrive in Belize City. I dropped Cindy off in Atlanta Georgia U.S. America at the connecting flight there. Cindy joined the ‘mile high club’ during the second leg from Mumbai to Dubai; at least commercial air is good for that. The ride was so turbulent, the plane did all the work.
It doesn’t take long to track down the only French Mongolian in this tiny nation. After a brief but bumpy Jeep ride, I arrive at the gate to Winsel’s estate. The property isn’t particularly large, I can see the front door from the road. Beyond the main house is the beach, to the right is a small car park and, probably, his workshop. Utilising the crossbow I purchased specifically for this purpose, I launch a bolt with a note attached at his front door. On the note is my name and my intentions. The bolt strikes the door frame, just above the ringer. The projectile produced the desired effect. Winsel eases open the front door, sidearm drawn. Reading the note, he motions for me to wait. Meeting me at the gate to guide me, Winsel retraces the unmarked meandering path, past the man-traps, to his home.
“Majes, you must get out of this business, it’s not safe anymore”, Winsel begins, once we are inside his retirement bungalow. Safety in my line of work is a relative thing; you’re only as safe as your senses are keen. That is why most of us live holistic lifestyles and retire by age sixty or die trying. “Most of the C.I.A.A.’s agents have been killed in action or have gone missing. The company started employing a rotating crew of Sherpa locals to transport reams of documents in and out of Kathmandu”, Winsel continues. All of this I already know, but I let him continue so perhaps he gets to something I don’t know. “And they brought on Trish! Trish! Don’t they know what she does for a living?”, Winsel concludes, exasperated.
Reaching for his keys and walking to the side door of his house, he motions for me to follow. I ask where are we going, Winsel responds, “lunch, I know a place, you’ll love it”. Out to the car park, I hadn’t noticed it before, but a very rusty Hindustan Ambassador. Climbing in, I cannot help but notice a strong salty fishy pong. “A local fisherman pulled it up from the sea in one of his nets. He gave it to me in exchange for some customised munitions”, Winsel explains.
Winsel parks the car, at what resembles a converted fruit stand with tables outside on a bricked patio, a place called simply, ‘Gud Bami”. Seated, we order Ginger beers from the bikini clad, dark skinned beauty, that is the server here. As the chef walks over to our table to describe today’s specials, I immediately recognise him, Zeki. Rising from my chair, we greet each other as old friends. “You know each other?”, Winsel asks. “Zeki saved my life off the coast of Ceuta a little while back”, I confirm. “We saved each other”, Zeki corrects.
The Serre la sus and Ceviche are absolutely superb, authentic Caribbean dishes with that Zeki flair. Winsel continues our conversation. “As you know”, Winsel begins, “the C.I.A.A. has fingers in nearly every nations’ pie. Isolated from the Nepalese government as it is, impervious to political sanctions.”. Winsel pauses as the lovely dark eyed server brings us Cashew wine, “complements of the chef”, she announces. “China needs the NOC lists, mission data, and all the compromising information each country holds dear”. Winsel leans in conspiratorially, whispering, “Without the secrets from the C.I.A.A., China’s plan for world domination will be set back by decades”. I almost choked on a piece of lime from the Ceviche, “World domination? How is that anything new? They’ve wanted that for centuries”, I laugh.
Our raven haired server brings to the table a plate of local fruit; Pitaya, Carambola, and sapodilla. “You don’t understand, this time the Americans are conspiring with the Chinese for a new world order. Dividing the globe in three, though not thirds, the P.R.C. will control the Eastern Hemisphere, the United States will have the American continents and poles North and South, leaving the Euro nations and Africa to stand for themselves, under mostly Islamic control”, Winsel details. There is no way the U.S. American government, the world’s policeman, would agree to something like that, what could possibly be in it for them. Before I can respond, Winsel, sensing my question, answers, “The Americans owe China more debt than they could ever hope to repay. With the imminent collapse of the Euro countries’ economies, the Americans are running out of options. In exchange for their cooperation, China agrees to cancel the obligation, a clean slate”.
Back at the bungalow, now early evening, the sea has calmed down and I now hear a faint but distinct electrical hum, must be an appliance or something, brushing it off. Asking if it is safe to go out to the beach or do I need to be guided around more man-traps. “No, you can just walk out, but wait”, Winsel replies. He opens the freezer in his kitchen, pulls out what looks like a T.V. remote and thumbs a button. Somewhere in the house the clunk of a heavy duty electrical switch is heard and the humming stops. “OK, now it’s safe”, Winsel announces, “my own invention, I call it the Electric Minefield”.
Two beach lounges and a half dozen Ginger beers, amid our idle chit chat, Winsel remembers something. “Word on the ether has it that Jae, in exchange for a cabinet position in the new world order, has been co-opted by the P.R.C., that she is the mole you guys are looking for” At this point, I’m not sure what to believe. I tell Winsel that I’ll keep that titbit in mind.
Shifting gears, the reason I’m here, “Word has it you’ve had some contact with Clyde”, I initiate. “Clyde? Yes I know where to find him. Why? Are you assigned to eliminate him?”, queries Winsel. “My business with Clyde isn’t your business”, I retort. I would never execute Clyde, we share too much history together. No, I’d get him off planet if there was a contract on him. Winsel gives up the information I need, he knows I’d get it from him one way or the other, why be unpleasant.