Chapter 74

74
WATERGATE HOTEL, WASHINGTON, D.C.

There was an air of excitement in the penthouse. Room service had brought lunch of blackened bass, papaya and corn muffins, a menu selection Jesus and Juan had been carefully grooming in an effort to eat what was, to them, normal food. In fact, meetings with the hotel's best Secret Service chef had gradually resulted in a menu which was not dissimilar to what they had eaten all their lives on Paraneho. They had reached a point where any more Waldorf salad or "something" pate' was in danger of sending them back to Brazil.

Beatrice ate well, too. The Watergate served up fresh vegetables and fruit along with other nutritious parrot dishes. Her pallet had actually presented the chef, coached by a veterinary consultant specializing in such menus, with a challenge of the type which breathes new life into the tedium of such a job.

Both Jesus and Juan were excited at the prospects of being filmed. Either by design or coincidence no photo had been taken of Jesus since the one of the two of them walking down the gang plank of the Brazilian destroyer in Rio. Jesus could remember the strange feeling He had when he saw that picture in the newspaper at Government House.

General Tower called promptly at one o'clock. "Are You ready to come down to the studio? My people are all set up down on the third floor."

Jesus answered excitedly, asking only for five minutes to get ready. He and Juan began to straighten their hair and look to their general appearance, as if it made a difference. The pair were still clad in Brazilian Navy fatigues and barefoot. General Tower had quit his attempts to dress the young men in more suitable clothing. Tower appeared at the door with his normal punctuality.

He flipped open his cell phone. "Make everything ready. We're coming down as soon as you are prepared to begin."

A few minutes later the General's phone rang. "Yes, that's good. We're not using our film crew? Who's going to do it? The Company? What do they have to do with this?....How did they know when to show up? That's just what we need, the damned CIA!" The General turned toward the pair. "There's going to be a short delay, probably only a few minutes."

Speaking into the phone again, he continued his conversation with his aide, Colonel Nicholson downstairs. "No one but the film crew comes up, and they get strip searched and x-rayed. Replace the tape in their video cameras after they are in the elevator. Colonel, I'm talking about a thorough strip search. I don't want a flea walking through the door. Put a three man sweeper squad on them while they are putting their clothes on. They'll be dropping bugs every time they turn around. Don't let 'em near the penthouse, whatever you do. Also, put two Marines in the studio and give orders for personal physical body protection on the Brazilians, shoot to kill." The General closed up the phone and slipped it into his pocket.

"Personal physical body protection, General?" queried Jesus.

"No one is ever sure what the CIA will do. Personal physical body protection means that if any of them try to harm You in any way, they will be dead before they get close to doing it. It's a drastic position, but I am responsible for Your safety and You will to the limits of my ability be safe, by God! And that by God, means by God. It's not swearing. I'll call you when we're ready." General Tower left to check on preparations. He was obviously upset at the introduction of forces beyond his control. But who can argue with the CIA? They wouldn't have shown up if they didn't have the juice. General Tower pledged to himself that he would not leave Jesus' side while the spooks were in the room.

General Tower, Jesus and Juan breezed into the cramped studio to find three men making the last preparations for the video taping session. The studio itself was small but well equipped with permanent lights and sound baffled walls. The Watergate had a history of guests who might need to make a press conference without the commotion of traveling with security arrangements.

The film crew seemed pleasant enough, but they had a definite false quality about them. They had shown up in suits, but the body search and x-ray team downstairs had confiscated everything except shoes, trousers and the inevitable white shirts. Everything about them from the expressions on their faces to the wrinkles in their clothes attested to the fact that Tower's orders for an energetic security scan had been carried out with enthusiasm. The little band of spies was pissed. They were not accustomed to being looked over quite so thoroughly. Nor were they accustomed to doing their work with two Marines with automatic pistols watching their every move. The Marines didn't really take up much space in the little room, but their presence made it seem remarkably more crowded.

The enthusiastic Brazilians remained as excited as ever.

"Good morning, Sir. I'm Bill Holly, this is Rich Hoeffler and Neal Holt. We would like to run some video of You so we can work out the final details of Your media campaign. If you would just have a seat there by the credenza, we'll start making some light checks." Agent Holly made it clear that he was in charge of the little group. In fact his attitude made it clear that he considered himself to be in charge of everything and everybody in the room. He had a remarkable quality about him. His face, hair, even his clothes seemed to be cast of highly realistic plastic.

"Juan will be appearing with Me in the video. Do you think we could get another chair for him to sit in?" Jesus spoke with His practiced innocence.

"Actually, one chair will be enough. We're only filming, ah, Mr. Robeles." Holly said to Neal Holt as he moved toward the door. "We have instructions that are very specific, just Jesus Robeles. Let's get busy and frame the shot for this interview."

At this point Jesus stepped over to the tripod. "Bill, Juan really wants to be in the video. Isn't that okay, since its only a trial anyway?"

Holly stepped back. "No, actually, we really need to film just You, Sir. You must understand that we have orders..."

Jesus looked back to General Tower, but the soldier was obviously prepared to defer to the authority of the agent. The gaze he returned to Jesus betrayed his frustration at not really being able to steer events in a better direction. The General was clearly concerned about the intentions of the CIA men. The first mystery was why they appeared suddenly on his front door at the merest mention of a trial videotaping. How did they know?

The second mystery was their objective. They seemed incredibly interested in creating a video of Jesus. Tower was fairly certain that there was another small camera in the base of the video camera that they brought. He had ordered his security screen to replace all video cassettes after "accidentally" x-raying the ones they carried in with them.

He was sure they had already tried to bug every room they had been in, even with his anti-bug team accompanying them every step. Restrooms included. His worse fear was that this was an assassination squad. He tried to stay as physically close to Jesus as possible.

Jesus smiled broadly, reaching out very directly to put His hand on Holly's shoulder. The operative jumped then gave a visible shudder. He looked at Jesus with a expression one might reserve for a rude passenger on a subway -- a stranger who brushed against you but then lingered too long. He clearly intended to say something to the smiling V.I.P. still standing next to him, but then he hesitated. Agent Holly slowly transformed his face into one of confusion. He was still trying to say something about being touched so directly, but he seemed to be at a loss for words. He began once, but was not able to form even the first word of what he intended to say. Only a few seconds had elapsed, but the man had passed through several distinct expressions. Finally he took a look of quiet resignation, then he smiled. Suddenly, he looked relaxed and his movements became unhurried. "You know, its not a problem at all. Perhaps General Tower would like to be in the shot, too."

Rich Hoeffler and Neal Holt looked at each other blankly. The puzzled look of agitation on their faces was in sharp contrast to serene gaze of their supervisor.

None of this scene was wasted on General Tower. He now had his arm to his side, his hand poised at the snap of the holster which held his forty-five automatic. His stare had wordlessly alerted the two Marine guards at either corner of the room. Their new state of heightened readiness was not missed by the CIA boys. It was essentially a 'nervousness party,' a contest to see who could be less comfortable. The exceptions were Jesus and Juan and, of course, the nearly delirious Bill Holly who had not yet realized that he was giggling constantly after Jesus touched his shoulder. To be honest, the man was not only giggling and trying not to giggle, but even in the struggle he was profoundly happy.

Jesus looked around the room slowly, pausing as He gazed into the eyes of everyone there. It was unfortunate, but the first to succumb was General Tower who started with the second case of the infectious chuckle. Within minutes all present were laughing at themselves, as if at an incredibly funny joke. There was a quality in the atmosphere of the room such that all the erstwhile serious men completely forgot what they were to be doing, what had been their plans a moment before, and most important, they had all forgotten their secrets and their fears.

Jesus smiled at Juan whose demeanor was completely causal. Juan was basically very happy all the time anyway, but he was quite familiar with this phenomenon. Then He winked at General Tower, leaning over to whisper in his ear. "My secret weapon. You don't think I've over done, do you?"

"Secret weapon! Secret Weapon?" The General began to laugh all over again. "What do You want to do? Put this old General out of business?"

Juan heard the comment and smiled. After Jesus translated it for him, he started to laugh again himself.

Agent Bill Holly was probably the first to recover his composure. The episode was perhaps most cruel of all to the two armed Marines standing at the corners of the tiny studio. They faced the task of remaining a threatening presence while at the same time laughing uncontrollably.

Bill Holly raised his voice above the laughter. "As if it matters we should still make this videotape. Everybody get set. Let's run the damned thing." What had been an intensely testy command a few minutes earlier was now little more than a good natured suggestion. The "crew" quickly prepared for the session.

"Let's frame Jesus. Hell, frame all three of them." chuckled Holly.

General Tower winced as the agent referred to Jesus by name rather than "Sir." Protocol was protocol, no matter what was happening. Nonetheless, he slid in close to Jesus and Juan as the man with the camera made the last adjustments. Slowly his suspicion about the CIA's entrance began to return. These three would not be here without a good reason. Unfortunately, inside the CIA every good reason to do anything had with it a good reason to be secret.

Suddenly, Neal Holt, who was running the camera, called agent Holly. "Bill, take a look at this." Futilely, he tapped the side of the machine nervously.

Bill Holt crossed the room to look at the framing screen of the elaborate camera. He swung the camera from side to side, still watching, then looked up, puzzled. "We're not getting any image of Jesus at all. We've got Juan and the General clear as a bell." Thumbing the rewind, he played the conversation in the room as it had been recorded for the last few minutes. As with the image, the audio record held not one word spoken by Jesus. "You're not very photogenic, Sir. This camera is recording everything in the room, video and audio, except You."

"I run into things like this every so often. Perhaps you will remember that all the world for Me is conformed by My Father's wishes. I think that the CIA should probably just accept that this idea of recorded messages from Me is not exactly what the, shall we say, Boss has in mind right now. It's not too bad. My experience is that these things usually turn out to be all for the better in the long run, even though just how that will happen may be a mystery right at the moment." Cheerful, Jesus was actually consoling the team.

"Ask them if we can have the tape they made anyway. I want to watch it in the penthouse." Juan said, speaking directly to Jesus in Portuguese.

"Juan would like to have the tape of himself and General Tower as a souvenir. In fact, I'll tell you what. I'll trade the tape for what you all actually came here to get. You've all been very good natured about all of this and I wouldn't want us to part less than friends." Jesus turned to Bill Holly. "Why don't you just give Me the bag you have in your pocket?"

Holly was surprised, but he withdrew a plastic bag from his trousers pocket, handing it to Jesus. "How did You know...?"

Jesus smiled as He licked His fingers. "It seems that I always know just what I need to know. I wasn't exactly sent here as a lamb to the slaughter." Laughing, He picked up a clean glass which had been by the always present water pitcher and carefully smudged his saliva and fingerprints across the side. Slipping the glass into the plastic bag, He turned again to Holly, "That should be enough for prints and DNA, yes?"

"Well, ah, thank You. I don't know quite what to say, but thanks a lot." agent Holly was actually stumbling for words.

Rich Hoeffler spoke up from where he stood helping Neal Holt bundle up the equipment. "May I ask You something, Sir?" Agent Holly glared at him, but the man clearly intended to complete his question.

"Of course. But if you don't mind, I'll just answer without your asking." Jesus was watching Holly trying to still the subordinate agent with a cold stare. "Yes, I would be pleased to bless you, although I don't usually do that. It wouldn't mean anything if I did. The whole point here is to encourage people to roll up their sleeves and bless themselves by trying a little harder. It's not rocket science. I'm sure you can figure it out. But thanks for asking, Rich."

"We're out of here. Jesus, Juan this way please." General Tower had risen and was on the way to the door of the studio.

Juan tugged at Jesus' arm. "What about the video tape?"

"General, wait just one minute, please. We want to get Juan's video tape." Jesus said looking back.

"Tell him not to touch it. Tell him not to touch anything they are going to take away with them." the General boomed. "I'll get it."

Tower examined the tape cassette, then tossed it to his aide, Colonel Nicholson. "Check it for bugs. Check it for everything. When you know its clean, deliver it to the penthouse. Deliver it ASAP. Got it?"

Nicholson disappeared down the hallway as the three entered the elevator.

Juan spoke quietly to Jesus on the ride up. "I hope it doesn't come out like the pizza."

General Tower ignored the comment, turning to Jesus, "We're going to have to figure out where to go from here, Sir. Television appearances would have made things much easier, but it looks like we are just going to have to do something else."

"Perhaps Plan B?" asked Jesus blankly. "I'm almost relieved that the television idea didn't work. I frankly am completely uncertain what I would say if I knew that I was speaking to hundreds of people at once -- people I don't even know."

"Well, this probably means press conferences. Those would be meetings where reporters ask You questions, but I have to warn You that some of the questions could get pretty difficult. I'm certain that I could arrange it so we began with easier ones first, though." the General explained.

"What will happen if I can't answer their questions, General Tower?" Jesus asked.

"That's what makes it exciting, Sir. We need to get You in front of the public soon. Do You think You could get ready by tomorrow or the next day?" General Tower asked hopefully.

"It seems as if I am always ready. It also seems that this is what I am to do next. Tomorrow will be fine. Can Juan come? In fact I think I would like for Beatrice to come, too." Jesus said thoughtfully.

General Tower was unwilling to jeopardize this development with even the suggestion of being unreasonable. A press conference with a lanky Brazilian and a parrot sitting on the sidelines, although perhaps not optimal, would be fine considering that the alternative would be no press conference at all. "I think we can arrange all of that, Sir. Thank You."

The word went out from the Watergate like wildfire.