Читаем Different Circles полностью

The onceover took about twenty minutes. Sanchez had Jake and Laura remove their suitcases from the cargo hold and open them up on the tarmac. The dog—her name was Maria—sniffed over their things for a few minutes but gave no reaction. Sanchez and the non-dog-handling agent then dug through their things for a few more minutes, seemingly disappointed when they found nothing out of the ordinary. Laura thought they did spend a little more time than necessary looking at her panties—particularly the dirty ones stored in a plastic laundry bag—but she said nothing. After that, the dog-handling agent led Maria all around the perimeter of the aircraft. She sniffed at everything and gave no reaction. She was then led inside the plane and remained there for the better part of five minutes. At last, the handler and Maria emerged. The handler held a whispered conversation in Spanish with Sanchez and that was it.

“You may put your luggage back into the plane,” Sanchez told them. “After that, you may accompany us inside the terminal and I will stamp your passports. After that, you may proceed to the general aviation terminal to arrange for temporary berthing.

“Very good,” Jake said, nodding, wondering if he was now supposed to tip them or something.

Apparently, he was not. They turned and walked back to the terminal. Jake and Laura put their suitcases back together and stowed them back in the plane. Jake closed the door back up and he and Laura went and got their passports stamped and were given their tourist cards since they would be staying less than thirty days. They were now free to move about Venezuela.

They got back in the Avanti and taxied it over to the general aviation terminal on the far side of the airport. There, Jake was able to acquire some Venezuelan currency at a rate of 207 bolivars for each US dollar. He got a thousand dollars worth and, using this currency he paid his landing fee of 10,000 bolivars and his daily tie-down fee of 5,000 bolivars. They took their luggage out of the plane and secured the aircraft with the passcode lock. They then walked back into the terminal and out the other side, where they caught a circulating shuttle van back to the international terminal, entering it from the main entrance this time.

They found a waiting area near the security checkpoints—which they had no intention of traversing—and were delighted to find that a fully functioning bar and lounge was located within it. The staff there all spoke English to varying degrees. They found seats at the bar and ordered some drinks. Jake, since he was not going to be flying or even driving in the next few days, went with a rum and coke, specifying one of the local rums. Laura ordered a glass of one of the local wines. These drinks cost another thirteen hundred bolivars, including the tip—about $6.28 in US dollars.

“You gotta love this exchange rate,” Jake said as he sipped from the potent concoction. It really was pretty good rum.

“Celia told me it’s getting worse every year,” Laura said. “She said the country seems to be heading for some kind of financial meltdown.”

“Interesting,” Jake said. “You would think a place with as much oil as Venezuela would be a little more financially secure.”

“You would think.”

“They’re a member of OPEC, for god’s sake.”

“I guess they just don’t manage money very well,” she suggested.

Continental Flight 721 landed on time. Jake and Laura finished their drinks and then headed over toward the baggage carousel assigned to it. It was nearly another forty-five minutes before passengers began to emerge from the escalator that led downward from the customs and declarations station on the second floor. And when they did begin to emerge, they did so in dribbles and drabbles. Jake expected that Celia and Suzie, who was traveling with her, would be among the first off since they were flying first class. He was wrong. They were among the last to emerge, and the moment that Celia stepped off the escalator, her carry-on bag in hand, she was mobbed by a crowd of disbelieving Venezuelans who chattered to her in Spanish and asked for autographs, ecstatic that their most famous citizen had returned home. Suzie got separated from her in all the chaos and so it was she that Jake and Laura greeted first.

“Fly Girl!” Laura greeted happily when she saw her.

“Teach!” Suzie shot right back. They came together and shared an affectionate hug.

“How was the flight?” Laura asked her when their embrace broke.

“Not bad,” she said. “I don’t get to do first class very often. I kind of enjoyed it.” She then looked over at Jake. “Jake. Good to see you again.”

“You as well,” Jake said.

To his surprise, Suzie gave him a hug too. He returned it affectionately. After all, he was now going to have an actual commercial transport pilot along for the ride with him for each hop back to San Diego. The thought was very comforting.

“How was the Avanti?” she asked him. “I can’t wait to see it. I am actually green with envy that you have one now.”

Перейти на страницу:

Похожие книги