Chapter 5
“I want a list of every bus that departed out of the city, between ten and ten-thirty this morning!” Coutier demanded inside the terminal office. He was beside himself that Rego had gotten away from all three of them. Gomes and LaBonne stood nearby looking ridiculous.
“Yes, sir, I will get you the list, right away,” the terminal manager said and began flipping through his log books. Within minutes, he produced a list of routes for the agents. “I have it here, sir. We had six buses leave in that time. We had two leave for Sáo Paulo, and one each left for Asunción, Curitiba, La Paz and Belém.”
Coutier studied the list carefully. “LaBonne, send two men to Sáo Paulo and meet the buses there. Send two more to Asunción and Curitiba. I will go to Belém. That is the nearest port that I think he will go. He wants to get out of here as fast as he can. You two morons go to La Paz. Better yet, get to the border crossing before the bus does. Tell your men to do the same for the bus to Asunción. If you see Rego, report to me at once! Hold him until I get there.” He rolled up the list and held it in his fist and pointed it at LaBonne, “No more screw ups this time!”
The bus traveled slowly westward throughout the day. It only stopped for refueling and rest stops for the passengers. It rolled on through the night. Rego could hardly keep his eyes open since he slept so little the night before. But, as soon as fell asleep, the bumps in the road would jar him awake. As he stared into the darkness, he could see a light starting to illuminate the sky. It was nearing daybreak, and the bus was getting closer to the border crossing.
The sun came over the horizon when the bus rolled up to the border crossing. The stop was also a place to change drivers and give the passengers a chance to rest and stretch their legs. Rego stood outside the bus, yawning and stretching. He took out some of the biscuits Rosa had made for him and ate one. He had one more sandwich for lunch that hopefully would hold him over until they reached La Paz. He noticed a small car parked beside the border office. The top was down on it. Rego thought it was a very sporty car. But, he noticed it had a government tag on the back. He looked at the satchel hanging around his shoulder. He decided not to take any more chances by standing out in the open and climbed back on the bus. He would have to wait another twenty to thirty minutes before the bus would leave again. He sat low in the seat, keeping an eye on the small convertible. He watched to see if anyone came out to it.
The old woman slowly made her way back down the aisle of the bus and sat down. “You sure like to sit on this bus. Don’t you want to get out and stretch your legs a bit?” she asked him.
“I did, I did,” he said innocently. “I’m just ready to get back on the road, is all.” He looked back out the window and stared at the car. Just then, two men wearing the fedoras walked out of the border office and walked over to the car. Rego grew nervous and impatient. He recognized them from the bus station in Brasilia. Rego jumped up and started to get off the bus. “You’re right. I better go to the bathroom before we leave!” Rego said, and ran off the bus.
He watched from inside the men’s room door as LaBonne and Gomes walked over to the bus. They got on and started walking up and down the aisle. After they did not find Rego, they stepped off and the new bus driver climbed aboard and shut the door. Rego waited for their backs to turn as they walked away from the bus, then he made a dash for the bus door. He tapped on the glass frantically, holding up his ticket, waiting for the driver to open the door.
The door opened finally, “Come on, kid, I don’t have all day!” Rego jumped on the bus and ducked down low as he skirted down the aisle. He slid into his seat, crawling over the old woman. The bus engine roared to life as he crouched down in his seat to hide his face.
The old woman looked at him with a perplexed look again, “Almost time for takeoff again, eh kid?” she said, with a laugh.
“Um, yes. I hate this part.” Rego said going along with her. He looked anxiously to the front of the bus as the driver finally put the bus into gear. “Come on, come on,” Rego said under his breath. They slowly pulled away and passed through the gate into Bolivia.
As the bus passed the government car, Gomes glanced up and caught a glimpse of a face he recognized. He shouted to LaBonne, “The kid! I think I saw the kid! He must have been hiding!”
“Are you sure?” LaBonne said in astonishment. “We searched that whole damn bus!”
“I’m not for certain, but I think that was the little punk’s face!” Gomes insisted again. They both ran for their car and jumped in. The gate lifted for them as they sped past into Bolivia.
As the bus started to speed up, Rego relaxed a little in his seat. He thought he had given the two agents the slip. They were getting near to La Paz but the drive would become slower as they started to climb into the Andes Mountains. The roads became more and more windy and the hills started to become higher and steeper.
Rego relaxed in his seat and put his head back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a small car pulling up alongside the bus. He sat up in his seat and looked outside his window. “Shit! It’s the agents!” he thought to himself.
Gomes started pointing towards Rego’s window. The car came alongside the driver and motioned for him to pull over. The driver looked agitated and ignored them. Rego watched as they pulled closer, waving at the driver. But, the driver continued to ignore them.
“They can’t do anything to me here, we’re in Bolivia now,” Rego thought. Just then, LaBonne swerved the car over and banged it into the side of the bus. Everyone started screaming on the bus as it began swerving all over the road. The bus driver struggled as he kept it on the road as they raced over the top of a hill. Rego climbed over the old woman and starting jumping over bags and screaming people in the aisle, trying to get to the driver.
LaBonne rammed the side of the bus again, prompting more screams and chaos. Rego stumbled his way to the driver, “Go faster, man! Go faster, you can outrun this guy!” Rego pleaded with the driver.
“Get out of here, kid, I can’t control this thing!” the driver yelled back.
“No! You have to knock this asshole off the road. Go faster!” Rego exclaimed.
In the chaos, a few old women behind the driver started hitting Rego on the head with their purses. “Sit down, sit down you stupid kid!” they yelled at him.
But Rego persisted, “Get this damn thing moving, cut him off, cut him off!”
The old women kept banging him on the head and the bus driver struggled with the bus to keep it on the road as they barreled down the hill. All of sudden, a gunshot rang out from the car. Everybody screamed even more. The bus driver fell over on his side. He was shot in the arm and he moaned in agony. The bus started to veer out of control.
Rego scrambled to his feet, as the purses stopped flying at his head. He saw Gomes pointing the gun again, this time at the tires. Rego pulled and strained to get the driver out of his seat and then jumped behind the wheel and struggled with all his might to pull it back under control. He slammed his foot to the brakes and swerved to the left sharply and smashed into the side of the car. Gomes dropped the gun and before he could react, LaBonne lost control and ran off the road, slamming into a tree. Rego pulled hard to the right and finally straightened the bus and slowed it down but never stopped. Cheers rang out from the passengers. Rego felt the knot on his head and winced in pain from all the purses that were flung at his head.
He looked at the driver on the floor holding his arm. “Are you alright, sir?” he asked. Rego yelled behind him, “Someone help him to a seat, his arm is bleeding badly.” An older man stood and helped the driver get into the front seat on the right side of the bus. Some women bandaged his arm and gave him some water to drink. The people continued clapping as Rego drove the bus as fast as he could towards the mountains.
Two hours later, Rego topped one last hill and then saw the ci
ty before them. The bus limped into La Paz with very little fuel left, and badly damaged.
Rego was amazed with the drive through the mountains. He had never seen them before, but handled the bus well on the difficult roads. As they entered the city, he was relieved. The satchel still hung across at his side with the strap across his chest. He looked at it momentarily, then stared back at the road in front of him.
He drove to an open square in the heart of the city and pulled the bus over near a large area of the square. The bus jolted to a stop and Rego shut off the engine. He stood and faced the passengers in the bus.
“Welcome to La Paz!” he announced. They all cheered and clapped for him and Rego took a bow to their applause. He saluted them one last time before stepping off the bus in triumph.
One of the old women that had pounded Rego with her purse sat next to the wounded bus driver and scolded him, “This isn’t the bus station!”