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.All morning the city had been buzzing with rumors that the AmericanVice-President had been seen driving around the city.At first it was said hehad been driving a bread truck.Then he was seen at a discotheque dancing withCharro.Or that he had lost two fingers fighting over a bullfighter's woman inthe affluent Colonia del Valle district, but had emerged victorious.Emilio had absorbed these rumors with interest, dismissing them as hysteria inthe wake of the imminent arrival of the President in Bogota.Many had thoughtthat Mexico City was a better-and safer-location for the drug summit.ThePresident of Mexico himself had prevailed on the U.S.President to considerreconvening in Mexico City, but was politely rebuffed.But here was the Vice-President, clearly the Vice-President.Although it couldhave been Robert Redford.They looked very much alike.Emilio, showing uncharacteristic swiftness, fairly leapt to the reservationsterminal and punched up the Vice-President's name.He was not registered,which did not surprise Emilio one bit.Robert Redford was also not listed.Moving swiftly, Emilio Mordida left the reservations desk and made for theelevator bank.He was not surprised to see that the Vice-President was still awaiting anelevator.Even the elevators were slow in Mexico.When one arrived, Emilio followed the Vice-President into the car.TheVice-President pressed sixteen.Emilio then pressed seventeen.They rode in silence, Emilio watching the Vice-President's boyish, almostghoulishly smiling profile.He was even younger-looking than he had appearedon television.The car stopped at the sixteenth floor.The Vice-President stepped off: Thedoors rolled shut.Emilio rode to the next floor and slipped back down the stairs.The Vice-President was still in the corridor, Emilio discovered when he peeredaround the elevator alcove.He was behaving very strangely.He was going fromdoor to door, putting his ear to each panel.He would listen for a briefinstant, then move on.Until he reached Room 1644.There he paused a bit longer.The Vice-Presidentdropped to his knees with a quick folding of his knee joints and put his eyesto the electronic lock, much as a submarine captain looks through aperiscope.The Nikko's locks required no key, but a magnetized passcard.The lockcombinations were changed daily.They could not be breached without thecorrect card.Yet, as Emilio watched, the Vice-President proceeded to breach the lock.Heaccomplished this in a novel, perhaps unique manner.Withdrawing his eyes fromthe card slot, he lifted his right hand and, retracting his thumb, jammed theremaining four into the slot.This was an impossibility, Emilio knew.Human fingers are too large for thecard-reader slot.But not only did the slot accept them right up to theknuckles, the metal gave no squeal of protest.Most mysteriously, the red light over the slot turned green, signifying themagnetic card reader recognized the Vice-President's four fingers.The Vice-President withdrew his remarkable fingers and slipped into the opendoor.The green light winked out and the red light winked back on.Thecorridor was silent.Page 59 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlEyes puzzled, Emilio Mordida passed down the corridor to the door to Room1644.The lock was as it should be.Undamaged.There was not so much as ascratch around the slot.Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.After a moment a voice demanded, "Who is there?""Hotel staff, senor.Is everything satisfactory?""Yes.Go away.""Si, senor."Emilio Mordida withdrew to the elevator alcove and looked back around thecorner.He saw the door suddenly open, and a multilingual "Do Not Disturb"sign was surreptitiously hung on the doorknob.The door clicked shut again.All the way down to the lobby, Emilio Mordida thought quickly.This was worthmoney, this information.The news agencies like Notimex would pay many pesosfor such a tip.As would, he supposed, the local police and the Federales.Returning to his counter, where one of his fellow clerks was stolidly enduringthe fractured-Spanish abuse of the West German couple Emilio had earlierignored, he wondered who would pay the most handsomely for such a tip.TheSecurity Police.Perhaps the Federales.Emilio checked the reservations terminal, punching up Room 1644.It showedvacant.It had been vacant two days.As Emilio Mordida dialed the local office of the Federales, he wondered whatwould compell the Vice-President of the United States to become a squatter inthis hotel.Did they not pay him enough?The Primer Comandante of the Distrito Federal of the FJP haggled with EmilioMordida only a few moments before proper remuneration was agreed upon.SwiftlyMordida told the comandante of the Vice-President's unorthodox residence atthe Nikko."Who else knows of this?" the comandante inquired suspiciously."No one, comandante.""See that no one else learns," barked the comandante, who abruptly hung up.Emilio Mordida hung up, confident that within a week-no more than three-a fatenvelope would be presented to him by a Federal.Corruption was a way of lifein Mexico, but everyone valued a good source.The comandante would be true tohis word.Still, Emilio thought, there was always the chance that the comandante wouldforget or his messenger would pocket the money for himself.Emilio picked up the receiver and began to dial the DFS.He could have savedhimself the trouble.For the Federal comandante had already sold the DFS theintelligence for three times what had been promised Emilio Mordida.And so, word was eventually relayed to Tampico Zone Comandante Oscar Odio, whohad agreed to remunerate his FJP informant handsomely.Odio quickly put in a call to Bogota."Padrino," he said."Si?""I have news, both good and bad.""I am listening.""I regret to inform you that your pistoleros-I assume it was they-were allannihilated earlier today.Their dead bodies were found by my agents besidethe Aquila Azteca train, which they attempted to board.""Muy triste," El Padrino hissed, sounding more hateful than sad.In a softervoice he added, "And their quarry?""That is the good news I have for you, Padrino.I have been reliably informedthat the Vice-President has been located in one of our best hotels."Odio could hear El Padrino sit up."And el presidente, el jefe, himself?""I do not have that information as yet, but I am working on this.""Who else knows of this, Odio?""By this time," Oscar Odio said truthfully, "probably half the Mexicansecurity appartus.""I have other assets in the area," EI Padrino said smoothly."But it will takePage 60 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmltime to move them into position.What can you do to further my interests?""The Vice-President is occupying a room illegally," Odio explained."He can bedetained on these grounds.""Do this, and I promise you, Comandante, you will never stoop to accepting fatenvelopes again.You will be passing them out.""As you say, Padrino."Comandante Oscar Odio hung up the phone, his wide smile threatening to piercehis earlobes.He put on his mirrored sunglasses and wrapped a silk scarfaround his neck.Outside, the helicopter was waiting.He anticipated trading it in for a newermodel by month's end.Perhaps one with rocket pods.Yes, he would enjoy wavingrocket pods
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