King of All I Survey
Chapter 69: Let’s Do Lunch

Chapter 69: Let’s Do Lunch

President Arroyo and four members of the Presidential Honor Guard waited in a private staff room in the Aurora International Airport terminal building. The President sat at the manager’s desk and drummed his fingers impatiently. Two of the guards stood at his shoulder. Two more stood by the door. The United Airlines supervisor sat in a small, uncomfortable guest chair in his own office facing the President. He hung up the phone, and said, "They are waiting for your approval to begin disembarking the plane, Mr. President."

"Open it up," he said, standing. "Let’s go greet our guests, gentlemen." The President and his four armed guards, strode out of the office and headed directly for the gate where the passengers from United Airlines flight 1571 from Houston, Texas, were disembarking. It was a connecting flight from Reagan National Airport in Washington, DC.

As people began streaming off the flight, The President stood with his hands clasped behind his back, two guards stood by him, scanning the terminal for potential threats while the other two stood closer to the door through which the disembarking passengers were exiting the plane. After about 30 people had exited, one of the guards stepped forward and intercepted a disembarking passenger, addressing him in English. "Excuse me, Mr. Raul Vargas? Would you step aside and wait with me for a moment?" The man he addressed looked at him, shrugging.

"I’m afraid you’re mistaken. My name is Pablo Rodriguez, I’m here as the new assistant to the United States Ambassador."

The guard smiled, "Yes, we are aware of your cover identity and position. Nevertheless, President Arroyo," he gestured at the President standing twenty feet away with a predatory grin, "would like very much to personally welcome you and your associate to Guatemala."

The man glanced over and saw the President for the first time. A careful observer might have seen a trace of surprise and alarm flicker across his face. "I am honored, but I’m traveling alone... Just let me check in with the embassy to let them know I have arrived," he said reaching for a cell phone from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. The second guard, standing behind him, snatched it from his hand and slipped it into his own pocket.

"We will be happy to make that call and tell the ambassador where you are," the first guard said with a smile that could have been mistaken for geniality. "Please step aside with me while my companion waits for your companion."

Pablo or Raul, depending upon who you asked, did as he was told. A moment later, the second Presidential Honor Guard put a hand on another man’s shoulder as he exited the plane. "Come with me please, Mr. Forest."

At the touch on his shoulder, the man tensed and he began to raise his right arm to deflect and trap the guard’s arm, but stopped before his own hand was much above his waist. He saw the uniform and decided that feigned ignorance would be his best course of action. "I’m afraid you have me confused with someone else, my name is Robert Danielson," he said, moving to continue walking away from the door and the guard.

The guard’s grip on his shoulder tightened, "I’d prefer it if we could please speak honestly to one another, as a matter of professional courtesy, Mr. Forest. President Arroyo would like to have a discussion with you and your associate, Mr. Vargas, over lunch at a nearby public restaurant. Then, we’ll be happy to bring you to the Embassy."

"Embassy? Am I being denied entry? I’m here as a photographer hoping to get some photos of Tikal..." He said, looking nervously toward the President, the other guards, and another American who he should not know at all.

"Please Mr. Forest," the guard said indicating the other group, "this way."

Forest or Danielson, depending on who you asked, walked forward as he was directed, meeting the gaze of Vargas as he did so. Vargas gave the slightest shrug, almost unnoticeable unless one was looking carefully. It seemed to say, I don’t know, just play along.

"Well, gentlemen," President Arroyo said when the two groups were together, "I would like to personally welcome you to Guatemala. I understand you have been traveling since early this morning. Why don’t we have some lunch while we discuss your itineraries. Martinez, would you be so kind as to take Mr. Forest’s cell phone? Don’t worry, Paul, you’ll both get your phones back after our conversation. Meanwhile they will stay untouched in my Presidential Honor Guard’s pocket as he accompanies us for lunch." He gestured toward the main lobby, "Shall we go? I’ve arranged for your luggage to be collected, so no need to worry about that."

Forest exchanged glances with Vargas. "My bags are under diplomatic seal," Vargas said looking directly at the President.

Arroyo smiled, "Not to worry, the bag that concerns you most was accidentally left off the plane in Houston. It’s waiting under your diplomatic seal, in the United Airlines Lost and Found office there. The addressing tags seemed to have fallen off, I’m told. So they don’t know who to notify. At any rate, I’m sure there’s no need for us to issue a protest about claiming a diplomatic seal on an intelligence agent’s luggage or two men trying to enter our sovereign nation under false identities. I am curious though, to hear how you will explain that an Ambassador’s Assistant would need electronic detonators, though. Perhaps that can be one of the things we discuss over lunch."

Vargas was visibly alarmed now. He stopped walking. "I have to protest and declare diplomatic immunity, please allow me to call the embassy at once."

Arroyo smiled, "Come now, no one is immune from hunger. We are going to lunch at a public restaurant for a discussion. Then, you will both get your cell phones back, along with whatever luggage managed to make it here from the United States. You will be free to go wherever you like. I will even provide a car for you, or two cars if you persist in your story that you are both here independently."

"But, let me set your mind at ease Mr. Vargas," President Arroyo continued as he reached for his own cell phone from his inside jacket pocket. He dialed quickly and held it to his ear.

"Ambassador Johnstone? Hello. This is President Arroyo," he stared at Vargas as he spoke into the phone. "Yes, a pleasure for me as well. I apologize for using the priority number, as this is a strictly personal call... Yes, I am quite well, and you? Good, good. The reason for the call is to let you know that I have had the good fortune to run into your new assistant, Pablo Rodriguez at the airport just now. Yes, he is fine. A bit disheveled from the long plane ride, perhaps, but doing quite well. He sends his regards. I have indulged upon him to accompany me to lunch at Restaurante Flor de Lis at Casa del Aguila, I’m sure you know the place. I’m just calling to let you know he will be arriving at the embassy a bit later than you might have expected. Yes. Perhaps two hours, I would think. No, no need. I’ll have a driver bring him to the embassy when we’ve finished. Please, I insist. Thank you, Ambassador. Oh, interestingly, we met another American at the airport, a photographer I believe he said, a Mr. Robert Danielson. He will also be accompanying us to lunch. No, no idea. Just a random fellow. Yes, yes. Thank you, Mr. Ambassador, I’m afraid I have to go. These gentlemen look quite hungry after their long flight. Buen Dia." Arroyo closed the call and replaced the phone in his pocket. "There, the embassy knows where you are and that I have personally guaranteed your safe return. Shall we go? Our car is waiting."

They walked in silence to the ground transportation exit. Three large black Toyota SUVs with heavily tinted windows were parked just outside the door. A police motorcycle was parked in front of the procession with another at the rear. Presidential Honor Guards and police officers stood attentively around the vehicles. A photographer waited near the cars and snapped pictures of the group as they exited the airport. President Arroyo gave a friendly wave for the camera and paused to pose with his two guests, who both seemed decidedly uncomfortable.

The group got into the middle vehicle and the procession started rolling. The motorcycles had lights flashing, so although traffic was very heavy and slow, other vehicles quickly gave way as they approached. As they drove, the three identical black SUV’s periodically passed each other, reshuffling their order in the procession as if playing a street hustler’s shell game.

Forty minutes later, they arrived at Restaurante Flor de Lis. As they exited the vehicle, a sturdily built man with a well-trimmed black beard just beginning to show a sprinkling of gray moved toward them from the door of the restaurant where he had been waiting.

"Ah, Diego! How are you?" President Arroyo greeted him with a warm handshake and a smile. As the chef reached out to shake the President’s hand, brightly colored tattoos could be seen travelling from the back of his hand up both sides of his arm to the short sleeve of his crisp, white chef’s coat.

"Excellent, Mr. President. Thank you. Welcome to Restaurante Flor de Lis. I have a private room ready for you and your guests. Right this way, if you please. Your men have already checked it out and two are waiting inside."

"Thank you, my friend," Arroyo replied, then turned toward the two Americans, "You are in for a treat today. My dear friend, Chef Diego Telles is going to personally prepare a tasting menu for us. I guarantee that you will not leave hungry. After you, please." He gestured for the two to follow the chef into dark interior of the restaurant.

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