Different Circles

“Oh ... well ... in that case...” he tried for a second to come up with another reason to refuse the invite, failed to do so, and then decided: What the hell? How often do you get a chance to have a drink with an alleged Colombian drug lord? And he’s going to buy! “I guess I will accept then.”

“Excellent,” Eddie said. He looked at the one of the members of his ‘security team’ and gave a nod. The nod was returned, and the man began to speak quietly, his hand covering his mouth. “Let’s head to the door. My vehicle will be here momentarily.”

Jake told Jill and Travis where he was going. They gave him a few concerned looks but said nothing. He then accompanied Eddie to the hangar’s man-door, where they had entered. Sure enough, the black SUV was now sitting out there, the driver standing next to the open rear door.

“After you, Jake,” Eddie invited.

“Thank you,” Jake said politely.

Still thinking this was a bad idea, he got into the back of the SUV and settled in. The back seat was huge, equipped with a bar and entertainment center. Jake could not help but notice that in addition to this the window glass seemed considerably thicker than what he was accustomed to. And when the driver closed the door after Eddie and the two security guys found their seats, it seemed he had to use a significant amount of force to do so, and the door slammed with a much louder noise than what was normal. Jake realized that the SUV was not stock, but armored, designed to be resistant to small arms fire.

Jesus, he thought nervously. Is it too late to back out of this side-trip?

It was. The SUV pulled away a moment later and started heading for the airport’s exit. A minute after that, they were on the main highway, heading north through the lush hills.

“Do you enjoy a good smoke, Jake?” Eddie asked him.

“Smoke? Uh ... that depends on what you mean by that.”

“Cigars, of course,” Eddie said. “I have some fine Cubans here if you would like to partake.” With that, he opened a compartment next to the bar, revealing it to be a small humidor. Inside were ten or so tightly wrapped stogies.

“I do enjoy a good cigar when the occasion is right,” Jake allowed.

“Does this seem like such an occasion?” Eddie asked.

“You know ... it really kind of does.”

“Excellent,” Eddie said, pulling two of the cigars out and then closing the humidor. He handed one to Jake. It was a Don Arturo Especial, which Jake knew sold for about six thousand dollars a box.

They prepped their cigars and lit up, blowing the smoke out into the back of the vehicle, where most of it was sucked up by a ventilation system that was also a few notches above stock. It was perhaps the finest cigar that Jake had ever smoked, smooth, yet with a delicious bite on the exhale. If he was going to his doom, at least he was going in style.

But he was not going to his doom. Instead, they came out of the hills and into a small upscale suburban area that Eddie identified as Chia. There, just south of a college campus and just west of a row of high-class nightclubs and restaurants, they parked in front of an old, colonial style building. The sign out front read Conquistar el Dia. Jake knew enough Spanish to translate this one on his own.

“Conquer the Day?” he asked. “Is that the name of the place?”

“It is,” Eddie answered. “It is one of the oldest bars in Chia, dating back to well before the town became a mere suburb of Bogota.”

“I like the name,” Jake said.

“You will like the place as well,” Eddie assured him. “A simple working-class bar frequented by simple working-class Colombians. Come on. Let us go enjoy some beer.”

“Let’s do it,” Jake said.

The door opened. The two security guys got out first, looked up and down the street and then nodded to Eddie. He and Jake then exited the vehicle, smoldering cigars still in hand. The rain was still coming down, so they quickly moved under the awning that stood over the front door. One of the two security men then entered the establishment. Jake tried to follow but the second security man, who had stayed outside, held up his hand, motioning for him to hold up for now.

“They’re just making sure that ... you know ... we’ll be able to find a place to sit once we’re in there,” Eddie explained.

“Of course,” Jake said. He took another puff on his cigar and let the smoke drift off into the rain.

A minute went by and the security man, apparently having been given the okay on his earpiece, gave another nod. He opened the door to allow Eddie and Jake to enter. Do these guys ever talk? Jake wondered as he stepped through into the bar.