Read Sun on the Rocks - The Cocoanomics Gazette Page 2


  Chapter One

  Miami International Airport, South Florida,

  Where everyone queues after getting off the plane,

  yeah that queue

  Clarity Nice walked towards the passport control counter, facing an officer dressed in the uniform of Customs and Border protection. She glanced at the area a few feet away, which said valid US passport only.

  "Passport mam." Clarity handed her passport issued by the Republic of Singapore. The officer, a guy reaching middle age who was wearing glasses, began to check his computer screen.

  "What's the purpose of your visit here?" Asked the officer.

  "Just in transit, going to Macao," said Clarity. "Coming back from a holiday in the British Virgin Islands."

  The man checked a different computer to the left of his desk, one with a smaller screen, which had the guidelines when a situation did not fit regular procedure. Clarity looked at his name tag plate, placed on the counter, which said Officer Roberto Gomes.

  "I'm afraid that won't be possible mam." He reached for a microphone and spoke into it.

  "Mike and Jimmy, please come to counter seventy three, alien registration and identification in process."

  Alien? Clarity felt like saying out loud that she was an American citizen, and she nearly burst out that the Chevette she owned was waiting for her in Malibu. But she knew better. She placed her tablet on the counter and ran her hand across it. Fact of the matter was that her U.S. passport had been requisitioned by authorities at the Bellagio hotel, and the only official travel document she had, was a passport from Singapore. She looked to her left at the queue of passengers coming to Florida. Everyone waiting in line had heard the comment of the officer going through a loudspeaker. Clarity realized that her low key passage through Miami, to move on to Macao on a subsequent flight, was being crushed by Border bureaucracy.

  Two big guys dressed as officers came by the desk of officer Gomes. The Border officer pointed to a record on his screen, which showed the name of Clarity.

  "Yeah, this is a problem," said Mike.

  "We don't want problems," said Jimmy.

  "No, we're going to lunch pretty soon, there's a new burger at the food court from Mclannan's. This Federal bonds thing is not a simple thing, there's a lot of people involved."

  "Call Lloyd," said Gomes, "maybe he knows something about this. Let's be careful, before showing this to Kerrigan."

  Police officer Kerrigan was the boss of Customs and Border protection at the airport. He wasn't particularly friendly, or very good at appreciating additional work or problems, or issues. The less he knew of the matter regarding Clarity, the better, for the sake of their quality of life.

  A short and chubby guy in his fifties wearing a colorful shirt approached the counter. Lloyd was wearing a tag which showed he was an employee of the Travelcheck foreign exchange counter at the airport. Gomes opened the gate to let Lloyd into his counter, along with Mike and Jimmy, who were leafing through the Singapore passport of Clarity.

  "This woman is in the pea tee double u list."

  Lloyd looked at the name on the passport and the list Gomes was showing him, which said People to Watch, or PTW. He'd seen the file before, it came from the Bellagio hotel basement at floor minus one and a half, a surveillance area kept out of the general radar area of the population and of those coming to the casino to gamble. His boss was the enigmatic Buddha Talk, a grandiose character, loosely but firmly involved with organized crime, and careful to negotiate various agreements with authorities, when they did not allow his legitimate business ventures.

  Joe Mannen, the real name of his boss, kept a few informants at Miami airport, employees, people who knew or had met the officers of customs and immigration, simply to ensure no one working for the government was looking too closely at when or how he was coming in and out of the U.S. Lloyd checked a file in his smartphone that no one else saw, a file belonging to Mannen. Mannen had several businesses in Florida, and he took care of them periodically, leaving his home in Cayman, and coming to Florida through the lesser known airports, places like Ormond Beach Municipal Airport, Vero Beach Regional Airport, or the Florida Keys Marathon Airport. The foreign exchange clerk saw that Mannen had landed in Florida through a charter flight provided by Gulf Coast Airways, two weeks earlier. Lloyd sensed an extra five hundred dollars for bringing the woman to his boss.

  "Yeah, she's with us," said Lloyd, "we're going to bring her in at Lofty Hire, she'll be temping with us for a while, then, we'll get her back to Cayman, where my boss usually is, if it's a problem for you that she stay here."

  Gomes was not displeased by the answer. That meant less hassle with Kerrigan, his boss, and something to show him, one less immigration problem that he didn't have to look at closely. The jaw of Clarity was beginning to open. She'd never seen the guy from Travelcheck before.

  "Who are you?" Asked Clarity.

  Clarity looked at Lloyd, who was checking the photographs of her Bellagio file, showing the naked requisition by Mandy Everglade, naked as well. In the same photo, there was also Colonel Bradfield, the head of the Bellagio Center, witnessing the requisition, and also naked, a few feet away. Lloyd placed the file of Lofty on Clarity on the counter of Gomes.

  "I think you know my boss, you've signed the crashworthy agreement with us." Clarity opened her eyes. She turned to Gomes, to regain a sense of plan A.

  "Why can't I go through transit?" Asked Clarity. The Border officer placed his elbow on the counter.

  "You're on a list of people to watch, from our Surveillance Bureau at the Bellagio hotel, your U.S. passport has not been issued. You cannot leave the U.S. until all of this is clear."

  "I am not in the U.S., I am in transit."

  "You cannot be in transit, you are under Customs and Border custody."

  "I'd like to go back to the Caribbean." She tried to think on her feet. "To the Bahamas, Turks and Caicos maybe."

  She checked her pocket, ensuring the few hundred dollars given by Sheik Hari Al-Najib in the island of Tortola, in the British Virgin Islands, were still there. She couldn't go back to BVI, because authorities were sort of banning her from being there, after the Scrub Leaks scandal brought by Sheik Hari Al-Najib. From a place like the Bahamas or Turks, she would find her way to the City of Wellington, the ocean liner traveling from Los Angeles to Acapulco, where her friends Taimi, Cynthia, and Jenna worked as gophers. Then, she would be able to get back to Malibu, without anyone noticing she was back in the U.S. So, for now, Macau was not part of the travel plan.

  "No, you have to stay in the area. As a favor, you can stay here in Florida, for a few days, if you have a job." Gomes looked at Lloyd. The foreign exchange clerk looked at Clarity.

  "You have a job with us," said Lloyd.

  Clarity tapped on her tablet with her fingers.

  "A job, to do what?" She asked.

  "Lofty Hire Services hires good people. You are one of those people." Clarity resisted the outlandish offer to work for Lofty Hire.

  "Can I have my passport, my Singapore passport?" Gomes shook his head.

  "No, we want to ensure you stay here in the U.S. This is not a usual passport, we're going to take a closer look at it." Gomes turned to Mike.

  "Mike, call the Women's Detention Center on Seventh Avenue, Miami Dade County Pre-trial, and the Everglades Correctional Facility. One of those places should have a cell available for this lady."

  Of course, that changed things, substantially. Plan B, presented by Gomes, was not good. Lloyd became plan C, for canny and cautious, and for cunning. Hopefully not so much for crummy or cheap. She saw the airport employee delve under his shirt and scratch his hairy belly.

  "I think I'll go with the gentleman here, then," she said.

  Gomes led her past the counter.

  "All right, mam, welcome to Miami, Florida, as a temporary incoming person without status. Lloyd will bring you back here in a few days."

  Anything was better than prison, thought Clarity. S
he nodded and followed Lloyd to the arrivals area.

  The owner of the foreign exchange counter at the airport filled out a few forms which allowed her to stay in Florida for a few days.

  "And then?" She asked.

  "Not sure, my boss will decide."

  "Who do you work for?" Asked Clarity.

  "My boss is Buddha Talk." The name was familiar.

  "The chubby guy who offers twenty percent annual interest on this shady investment product called crashworthy?"

  "Yeah, I knew that you'd met him."

  Lloyd closed his foreign exchange outlet for a few hours. He led Clarity to the parking lot of the airport, going to the car rental and travel arrangement area. Then, he reached for his smartphone and dialed the number of a pawnshop to get instructions on what to do. "Mmm, all right, good, we'll do that."

  He turned to Clarity and opened the front door of his car labeled with the tag Reverplain, a company which arranged car transportation for people, using other drivers picked at random from its transportation lottery. Depending on the driver, the person asking for transportation, needed insurance or not.

  "Take the wheel, you are going to be my driver, that's your first job. I won't pay though, because I'm providing the car and the transportation arrangement."

  Lloyd handed Clarity a cap of Reverplain, a competitor of Uber arranging transportation for others. She put her cap in place and took the driving seat.

  "Where are we going?" Asked Clarity.

  "My boss wants to see you."

  "Good, good." Clarity kept looking at Lloyd, unsure of what that meant. "We're in business?" She asked.

  "We are in business, Lofty is a place for business. Follow the signs to leave the airport, we have to pick up a copy of the Cayman Gazette, all the relevant news about the Cayman Islands are there. My boss likes to read it to see what's happening over there, just in case something happens over here with his pawnshop."