contains adult themes (violence, drug reference)
DISCLAIMER: OKAY, THEY AREN’T MINE, BUT I FEEL LIKE THEY ARE A PART OF ME. YOU CAN’T MAKE ME NOT THINK ABOUT THEM AND THEIR FUTURES, O MIGHTY GOLDEN BOOKS, SO DON’T EVEN TRY. IF YOU DO, LET ME WARN YOU, I HAVE A SECRET WEAPON - 21 FOURTH GRADERS. GIVE ME PROBLEMS ABOUT USING THESE CHARACTERS THAT YOU OWN AND YOU CAN SPEND A DAY IN A SMALL ROOM WITH 21 NINE YEAR OLDS…OH, YEAH, IT’LL BE A RAINY DAY AND THERE WILL BE NO ESCAPE….have a nice day.
**OK here’s my foray into the realm of Trixie…actually, I’ve been there many times, this is just the first that anyone but my best friend, Raini, has seen. The story refers to some things that happened in a story I wrote in college about the BWGs, but it will be briefly explained here. Also, I’ve taken the creative license or whatever to move the Dutch Embassy from Madrid to Valencia (so no one send the bad guys to come and get me about that!) There is also some foreshadowing to another story that I have part-way written. Hope you all enjoy this and Happy Birthday, Raini!(2-2)
The Spanish Mystery
by bethlorr
Prologue
13 MARZO
AEROPUERTO DE BARCELONA
1100 HORASA large man paced back and forth in front of display screens that listed the arrivals and departures at the Barcelona airport. Mumbling to himself, he stooped and the scanned the screens for the arrival time of the next flight from Heathrow.
"¡Vaya! Another thirty minutes." Glowering, he shoved his way through a group of French tourists.
One, glancing at the man’s retreating back, shook his head and said, "Spaniards!" His companions nodded in agreement.
The Spaniard, not caring what anyone thought, stomped away, reaching into the pocket of his dark-green overcoat for his cellular phone. Coming to a somewhat secluded area, he rapidly punched in some numbers. Within seconds he heard the clipped British voice of Bernard, his contact.
"Sergio! What are you doing calling this number? How many –"
"I am the boss. I call what I want. What have I told you about using my name, idiota! Where are they? I met every flight from London for the past six hours and no red-hair man." The taut muscles in the Spaniards neck stood out even further as his voice became hoarser. "If you put it on someone not even coming to Barça and we lose it, te prometo, I will kill you!"
"Calm down, Ser…sir, I assure you that the man was going to Barcelona. He’s with a group of young people – teenagers or in their early twenties. They were talking quite loudly about their travel plans. Very talkative they were. But then they were Americans. Those Americans, too friendly and quite a loud lot, always talking too much and with people that don’t even care…"
"¡Calláte! You make no sense…talking too much; that’s you. But what is this? The red-hair man is a teenager? Were you thinking? A kid!" The veins in the Spaniard’s neck began to pulsate rapidly and he was beginning to turn red. A passing airport official heard his raised voice and began to approach. Seeing the uniformed man coming at him, the Spaniard took a deep breath and attempted a weak smile. "Bon dia, Senyor ."
The official nodded. "Bon dia, Senyor. ¿ Tot està bé?"
"Si, si, bé…bé, graciés." The official turned and continued on and Sergio wiped his brow and answered the questioning voice on his mobíl. "What? I was speaking Catalan. To who? One of the airport officials. He thought something was wrong with me. Now, Bernard, what is this about teenagers? Dios mío, a kid." Now, not only was he sweating up a storm, but his heart was racing. Sergio collapsed into a nearby chair.
"Relax boss, he’s probably 20. I didn’t have much choice. You wanted it today and his group was my last chance. Silly Americans," his animosity toward Americans was evident in his tone, "They are so careless. Also he will be easy to spot; a young American with red-hair, traveling with six other Americans - three girls and three other young men. Very talkative, those Americans."
"Si, si, you already said that, Bernard. You are positive that they are coming here, to Barça?" Sergio knew that his blood pressure had risen dangerously in the last several moments.
"Yes. A blond girl said that they were flying to Barcelona to spend the night and the next morning they would be taking a train to Valencia. A cousin of one of them lives there. The cousin does something at some embassy there."
"What!?" Any relaxation that may have begun while listening to the travel plans of their unwitting carrier was immediately lost with the word embassy. "Embassy! Whose? What? This is not good, Bernard."
"I don’t know whose? It doesn’t matter. All you need to do is get the redhead’s backpack. The disk is inside. Then throw the pack away. Why am I telling you this, you masterminded the plan. It is quite simple."
"Simple…sencillo…much like you, Bernard." With that Sergio clicked off the mobíl and slid it back into his pocket. He strode over to the gate, waiting with several others for the latest arrivals from London. Retrieving this disk could either make his career or end his life…and it all depended on a group of young Americans.
* * *
13 MARCH
BRITISH AIRWAYS JET
EN ROUTE TO BARCELONA FROM HEATHROW
1100 HOURS
"Spain…flamenco dancers, bullfights, soccer, windmills…Did any of you ever think that we would go to Spain?" Trixie Belden’s blue eyes snapped with excitement and her sandy curls flew as she practically bounced in her seat.
From across the aisle a young man who looked practically like her twin warned, "Jim, you’d better hold her down or my little sister may go right out the window."
The red-headed man sitting next to Trixie smiled fondly and gently tugged one of her curls. "I don’t know about the window, Mart. She usually just goes through the ceiling."
Leaning across Jim to look at her brother, Trixie retorted, "Don’t tell me you’re not excited? Who’s been tuning into a Spanish radio station from New York City for the past two weeks as we’ve driven to school, twin?"
Before an all-out verbal assault could develop between his younger siblings, the dark-haired man sitting with Mart intervened. "Mart, Trixie, please. It’s time that you two grew up and quit baiting each other." As always, nineteen-year old Brian Belden was the voice of reason to seventeen-year old Mart and sixteen-year old Trixie. Just eleven months apart, the two often argued, but were also each other’s strongest defender.
"Sorry, Brian, you’re right," Trixie said quickly. Brian had been through so much in the past several months that she didn’t want to cause him any more stress. "Seriously, guys, aren’t you at all excited about coming to Spain?"
Before she could begin her list of the wonders of Spain again, Trixie’s best friend, Honey Wheeler spoke up from her seat between Mart and Brian. "I’m ecstatic about visiting Spain, Trix. There are so many beautiful buildings and museums." Running her fingers through the brown hair that had earned her the nickname Honey, she looked back at the other girl in their group, Diana Lynch. "Di, what do you want to see in Spain?"
Di lifted her violet eyes from an art magazine in her lap and said, "Definitely the museums. Spain has produced some incredible artists…Picasso, Salvador Dali, Velázquez, El Greco, Goya. If we go to Madrid, maybe we can check out the Prado."
"I don’t know if we’ll make it to Madrid or not, Di," Jim said. "Hans and Juliana live in Valencia, and I’m not sure how far that is from Madrid…several hours, I believe. I’m sure we’ll find plenty to keep us busy there."
"Right you are, James," Mart began in his best imitation of a British professor, "Valencia is the third largest city in Spain, with Madrid being the largest and Barcelona not far behind. Though I believe that this week, with this huge event going on that we have been invited here for, the population of Valencia will increase dramatically."
"Oh, please, someone stop him before he turns into the ‘All You Ever Wanted to Know About Spain and Then Some’ website," Trixie moaned and buried her face in her hands.
The young people all laughed and the seventh member of their group, Dan Mangan, spoke up, "The facts are great, but I want to see the castles. And the beaches."
"No kidding, Dan," Brian added, "after that snowstorm we had right before we left New York, I am very ready to experience some of this Mediterranean sunshine that I’ve heard so much about."
Before the conversation could continue, the FASTEN YOUR SEATBELT light flashed on and the voice of the pilot came over the intercom announcing that the descent to the Barcelona airport was rapidly approaching.
The seven young Americans settled themselves back and fastened their belts. They were all excited about this unexpected trip to Spain in the middle of March. Jim, Dan and Brian were all on spring break from college, but Mart, Trixie, Honey and Di had all taken an extra week off from their studies at Sleepyside High School. All seven lived close to each other along Glen Road on the outskirts of Sleepyside in New York State.
Several years before they had formed a semi-secret club called the Bob-Whites of the Glen with the purpose to helping others. Even with the three older boys off at college and only able to come home some weekends, the group had remained close friends. Brian, Mart and Trixie along with their ten-year old brother, Bobby, lived at Crabapple Farm with their parents. Up the hill from them was the Manor House, a large estate that was the home to Honey Wheeler and her adopted brother, Jim Frayne. Diana Lynch lived with her parents and younger twin brothers and twin sisters in a mansion on another nearby hill overlooking the Hudson River. Dan Mangan was the nephew of Bill Regan the Wheelers' groom. He had lived with Mr. Maypenny, the gamekeeper for the Wheelers' game preserve until he had started college the previous fall. This was the first time that all seven had been together for more than a weekend in quite some time and here they were, soaring over the Pyrenees, moments away from landing in Spain.
Turning to Jim, Trixie said, "I’m really glad that Juliana and Hans have invited us to come visit them. And it was incredibly generous, as usual, for your dad to have financed this trip for us."
"Dad said that we all deserve it, after all that has gone on in the past year. It’s not just a vacation, it’s also a celebration for how well Brian is doing."
"He is doing fine now, isn’t he?" Trixie looked Jim for reassurance. "We were so worried about him for so long. Now everything is back to normal and Brian has put his life in to perspective and Chris can never hurt anyone like he did Brian."
Seeing that Trixie was on the verge of tears, Jim took her hand and redirected their conversation. "Yes, he’s doing fine. Thanks to the love and understanding of his friends and especially his family. He couldn’t have made it without all of you. Family is important. That’s why I’m so happy to be coming to Valencia to see Juliana and her family. She’s my only blood relative. And now she has a baby. Well, not exactly a baby now, Betje is a year old."
"A year old already! It seems like it wasn’t all that long ago when we were all in Hans and Juliana’s wedding there at Manor House. Goodness, it’s been almost three years now." Trixie understood what Jim had done to take her mind from the dark time of Brian’s disappearance a year and a half before and was grateful to him. At times it seemed as if Jim could read her mind. Sometimes that was disconcerting, and at other times, like now, it was a blessing.
She let her mind focus on what Jim was telling her from the last e-mail he had received from Juliana the day before. She had written how the Dutch name of Betje was difficult for Juliana’s Spanish friends to pronounce so they called the little girl Bet. Trixie understood about difficult names. Her own given name was Beatrix, which she hated, and everyone knew that. It was only used by her parents when she was in serious trouble or by Mart when he was teasing her.
Responding to something Jim said about sight-seeing, Trixie asked, "Did Juliana say if there were any castles nearby that we could explore?" There was something about castles and their hidden secrets that had fascinated Trixie since she had visited England with Jim, Honey and Mart a few years before.
"Juliana said that there are the ruins of a castle at a town north of Valencia that everyone goes and explores. It was destroyed years ago. I’m sure we can go see it." Jim looked at Trixie and then groaned. "Oh, no, I can see it in your eyes…you’re switching into Schoolgirl Shamus mode. Didn’t we talk about this before we came over – one vacation with no mystery."
"Schoolgirl Shamus mode! That’s a bunch of nonsense, Jim. I was just curious. I want to relax, too. No mysteries." But even as Trixie said this to Jim, something deep down told her that it was silly to promise no mysteries because you never knew what might happen.
The plane began to descend from the sky and the pilot’s voice was heard once again,"Benvingut a Barcelona. Bienvenidos a Barcelona. Welcome to Barcelona."
Chapter One
13 Marzo
Aeropuerto de Barcelona
1130 horas"Why didn’t one of us actually learn something in our Spanish classes in high school?" Trixie moaned as she and the Bob-Whites waited with other travelers in a line to have their passports stamped as they entered the Barcelona airport. "Then we would at least have an idea of where we should go."
"Whatever do you mean, dear Beatrix," Mart responded, "I am perfectly capable of carrying on a conversation in Spanish. Not all of us have your aversion to studying and applying our minds to education."
"O.K. smarty. Ask that man over there in the green-trench coat why he is staring at us like we just flew in on a UFO." Trixie knew she shouldn’t let Mart get to her, but he always had just the right comment to trigger her temper.
Mart looked over to the direction Trixie was pointing. Luckily he didn’t see the man Trixie meant so he didn’t have to go try out his two phrases, ‘¿Dónde está el baño?’ and ‘Una cerveza, por favor.’ He hadn’t paid all that much attention in Spanish either. How often would he have used it in Sleepyside? Trixie didn’t need to know it though. One of these days he would have to quit teasing her, but it was too much fun to just give it up. "My dear hermana, I see no man staring at us or anything. It must either have been A) a figment of your fertile imagination, 2) he was blown away by your radiant beauty and fled or lastly, you offended him by pointing and he left."
Before Trixie could utter a retort, Dan said, "Well, it wasn’t A. I saw him too, over there behind the glass divider. He was looking at us a little strangely. Maybe he just doesn’t like tourists coming to his country and gets his kicks out of coming to the airport and glaring at them."
Trixie smiled at Dan gratefully and turned her back on Mart. She had made a promise to herself and to her mother before coming on this trip that she would do two things…not fight with Mart and avoid mysterious going-ons at all cost. So far she had blown the first promise several times and she had the feeling that she would be breaking the second promise and that the guy in the green-trench coat would have something to do with it.
Even though they weren’t even into the actual airport yet, Trixie was amazed at the differences around her. Except for a brief weekend in Paris with Honey and her parents a few years ago, she’d never been in a country that spoke a language other than English. Everywhere she looked the signs were literally in a foreign language. About the fourth line down everything would be printed in English, above that she could recognize French and Spanish, but the top line totally escaped her. She could tell from the picture and the English translation on one that the sign was warning travelers to not let their bags out of their possession. She could even pick out a few familiar French and Spanish words on it, but try as she might she just couldn’t place the top language.
Suddenly she heard an unfamiliar voice next to her say, "The top line is Catalan; it looks similar to Spanish, but it’s kind of tricky."
Trixie turned and saw a young woman several years old than she was with brown hair and green eyes staring at the sign also. "Catalan? I thought we were in Spain? Don’t they speak Spanish?"
The woman turned and smiled, "Yes, they do. The official language of Spain is Spanish, but Catalan is more commonly spoken here in the north, Catalunya. All the signs and all announcements, like the pilot’s when we landed, will be in Catalan and Spanish. The pilot welcomed us in Catalan, Spanish and English. Most people will speak both Spanish and Catalan and the schools and universities have classes in both languages."
Trixie was a little surprised, "Wow…I never realized that there were two languages in Spain. Have you been here before?"
The woman’s smile moved into her eyes, "Actually there are more than two languages. There’s Galician, Basque, Valenciano-which is actually an off-shoot of Catalan, but if you tell a valenciano that they’ll deny it until they are blue in the face. In Mallorca they have another dialect called Mallorquin and then a whole bunch of other dialects I’m not even familiar with. It surprised me too, when I first came here. I lived here for about eighteen months a few years back. Now I’m coming back to visit some friends and check into a couple of jobs down south. And you, I take it this is your first visit?"
"Double wow. That’s quite awhile to live here. We’re just going to be here for a week. I’m visiting some friends. The red-headed guy up there has a cousin living in Valencia with her family and she invited us to come visit for some holiday - falas or something."
"Valencia," Trixie noticed that this woman said the ‘c’ like it was a ‘th’ in English. She had done that before and Trixie was wondering if the woman had a speech problem. "You will love Valencia. It was my first city when I lived here. So you are coming for las fallas. They are indescribable and wild, like all Spanish fiestas. You have to experience them to even begin to understand them. When I lived here I was lucky, I was in Valencia for five months and left the week after las fallas."
"Fi-yas? But I thought there was an ‘l’ in it? I only had one year of Spanish and as you can see, didn’t learn very much."
"Right again, there are two ‘l’s in the word and they make a ‘y’ sound and with the first ‘a’ it turns into ‘fiyas’. It doesn’t matter how many years you have studied Spanish, it takes living it to really get it. I had four years of Spanish class in high school and 5 semesters in college and I still wasn’t fluent until I had been here about three months. By the time I was to leave I finally had the hang of it. I could argue with the phone company or the post office and not only be understood, but win the argument." The woman got a far away look in her eyes and a half smile as if she was remembering something special.
Trixie’s natural curiousity wouldn’t stop, "What were you here for? Were you going to school or something?" Neither Mart or Brian were around to tell her to mind her own business, so she kept on asking questions. You had to ask questions to learn. Anyway, this woman seemed to enjoy discussing Spain with her and Trixie was suddenly feeling comfortable in this new place.
"Well, I was doing a great deal of studying and learning and teaching, but I was here as a missionary. Since then I have been teaching school in the United States. However, Spain got into my blood and not a day has gone by where I haven’t longed to be back. That happens to some of us and it shapes the rest of our lives."
There was a tone in her voice that touched a place deep inside of Trixie. She could feel the love this woman held for this foreign land, a love so strong that it had pulled on her daily for years. Could something like that ever happen to her? Could she ever love a place more than Sleepyside and her own country? Shaking her head to clear such sudden deep thoughts from her mind, Trixie got ready for another question, "A missionary, that must have been hard. So, did you learn Catalan? Oh, by the way, my name is Trixie Belden. I’m from New York State. The blond guy and the dark haired one getting out his passport are my older brothers, Mart and Brian. The other dark haired guy is our friend Dan Mangan and the girl next to him is Diana Lynch. The other two are Honey Wheeler and her adopted brother, Jim Frayne. It’s his cousin that we are going to visit."
"Nice to meet you Trixie. My name, when I am here, is Isabel. I’m from our country’s opposite coast originally - California. You have quite a nice looking group of friends. Polite, too. That one, Dan, he helped me getting my bag out of the luggage compartment."
She glanced at the Catalan advertisements on the wall, "I don’t speak Catalan…just a few words of Valenciano. I never lived in this northern area. I was always in Valencia or further south. It is beautiful down there and the people are wonderful." Isabel paused and then continued saying, "they are wonderful and they will give you anything and everything that they have." She laughed a little and shook her head. "Literally everything that they have they will offer you. Trixie, your friends are motioning to you and it is your turn at the window. Just hand the official your passport."
Trixie smiled nervously at the stern faced man behind the glass window. He said something to her and she stared at him blankly. She’d slid her passport booklet into the drawer that slipped back under then window and she had thought that was all that she would need to do. What did he want?
Isabel whispered, "He just wants to know how long you will be staying, what your business is and what your destination is." She turned to the man and asked, "¿Usted habla inglés?" When the man nodded she told Trixie, "Just tell him how long you plan to stay and where and what you’re here for."
After finishing and getting her booklet back, Trixie hesitated. She wanted to thank this woman for helping her and telling her a bit more about Spain and she also wanted to ask her what she meant about Spain getting into her blood. She had to admit also that she wanted to find out a bit more about the fallas thing that they were going to so that maybe for once she would have a bit more knowledge on a subject than Mart would.
Isabel, after a brief and rapid conversation with the official that brought a smile to the stern expression on his face, passed through the gate that Trixie was hovering by. The other Bob-Whites were all waiting and beginning to get impatient.
"Isabel, thank you for helping me out there. That guy looked like he wanted to eat me for lunch."
Isabel laughed, "That is the Catalunyan hospitality. They are much more friendly the further south you go. If you ever make it down to Murcia and Cartagena, you’ll see what I mean."
"Oh, Isabel, can I ask you two more quick questions," Trixie knew that not only were her friends waiting for her, but that this woman probably had friends somewhere in this airport that she hadn’t seen in years that she wanted to get to.
"Sure, Trixie. I’m in no real hurry. This has all waited for three years, a few more minutes won’t change anything. Shoot!"
"Thanks. First, I don’t want to sound rude or tactless, but I’ve noticed when you say certain words in Spanish, they sound kind of…" Trixie trailed off, not sure how to word her already impolite question.
"You mean the ‘th’ sound on some letters like the ‘c’ in Valencia?" Trixie nodded and Isabel continued, "In Spain they speak with what is called the theta. On the soft ‘c’ – before ‘i’ and ‘e’ – and the ‘z’ you use a sound that resembles the ‘th’ sound in English. The Spainards would say that you have landed in Barthelona and that you are going to Valenthia. They spell it with a ‘c’ but to our American ears it sounds like ‘th’." She laughed, "So much for the phonics lesson, what was your second question?"
"This is even stranger than the first one. What did you mean by Spain getting into your blood? When you said that I felt a strange pull on me; it was weird."
Isabel’s face became serious. "That isn’t a strange question, but it is difficult. I guess in the Cliff Note version of an answer it is just simply that you change because of what you experience just be touching down in this country." She looked straight into Trixie’s eyes as if trying to read something there. After a few seconds she gave Trixie a small smile. "I could almost guarantee you that it will get into your blood also. You will not feel homesick here for the United States, but when you return to the States you will never be the same and you will be homesick for Spain. That is what happened to me. I had been here for less than a week and I was walking amid the gypsies on a street in a poor area of Valencia and I felt as if I had been there before. I felt as much at home there as I did in the small farming community that I grew up in where my family had been for generations."
Abruptly breaking into the spell-like concentration that they were both under came Jim’s voice, "Trix, sorry to interrupt, but we really need to get our luggage and figure out where to get a taxi and find our hotel." He smiled at Isabel, "Hello, I hope Trixie hasn’t been pestering you with questions, ma’am."
"Please, don’t call me ma’am…I’m not that much older than you. And as for pestering, if anyone was doing that I think it would’ve been me pestering Trixie with my memories and feelings for this country." Isabel turned back to Trixie.
"Trixie, remember that pull. You will feel it again and again and someday it will pull you back." The three began to walk toward the other Bob-Whites. "Whatever you do, don’t fight it, it will only make it worse. And it will not interfere with your dreams and plans, just put them into a new perspective."
As they reached the other Bob-Whites, Mart got ready to ream Trixie on keeping them waiting, but something in her expression stopped him. She suddenly seemed older. He smiled and shook hands with Isabel as Trixie introduced them all to her.
"You will all enjoy las fallas I am sure. People from all over the world will be in Valencia for the next week. Watch out for pick-pockets, they’re always out, but especially during this week, the beggars too. Don’t go out at night, especially you girls, alone. The valencianos will be partying all night long for several nights in a row. It can get way out of hand when they get drunk. Oh, yes, if you go around the morning after the planta make sure you take extra film. I ran out taking pictures of all the incredible fallas. They are just huge sculpture like things made of papier-maché and lumber, but they are amazing. They represent a lot of political satire, you know. Amazing what as evolved from a simple tradition of burning old worn-out tools at the beginning of spring."
Honey was on the verge of asking a question about this tradition when a shout in Spanish was heard, "Por fin, ¡¡La Hermana ‘Hache’!!’"
Trixie’s new friend swung around, beaming at a group of Spanish people, "Dije que regresaría algun dia, Carolina."
Before going to greet her friends, Isabel turned and gave Trixie a quick hug. "Enjoy Spain. Don’t just experience it, live it." Then looking Trixie straight in the eye she added, "You will be back someday. It will pull you back and you won’t be truly happy until you return. Tu serás española."
With that she turned and was swept into a whirl of hugs and kisses from several Spanish men and women with at least 10 different conversation going at a fast pace in Spanish.
Trixie thoughtfully took her carry-on bag from Brian and followed the rest of the Bob-Whites over to the luggage carousel.
Chapter 2
13 marzo
Aeropuerto de Barcelona
1150 horas"Hey! Watch it!" Dan’s angry voice interrupted Trixie’s thoughts on what this stranger had just told her. She looked over to where Dan and Jim were loading the group’s suitcases on a luggage cart. A large man, looking vaguely familiar, had just shoved Dan onto the luggage carousel. Now he was lunging at Jim.
The man grabbed at the green backpack hanging from Jim’s left shoulder. His fingers slipped as Jim whirled around to confront him.
Before Jim could say a word, the man had once again reached his hand out to grab the backpack. As he pushed against Jim, they both lost their balance and fell onto the cart of luggage. As the two men struggled to stand up, the cart began to roll away. Finally Jim managed to push the man off and he fell to the floor.
Just then, Mart and Brian made their way through the crowd and tried to pin the man to the floor. He rolled away from them and took off down a corridor. Brian stayed to help Jim up and Mart sprinted after the strange man. By this time the girls had managed to extract Dan from the tangle of suitcases on the carousel and help him back to solid ground.
"I’m fine, I’m fine. Just slightly ticked off about my welcoming committee," Jim said, starting to re-pile the suitcases on the cart. "I’d heard that the Spanish people were physical, but I didn’t know it meant knocking people over and trying to dislocate their shoulders."
"It looked like he was trying to nab you backpack," Trixie said, her eyes showing the concern she felt for Jim.
"Yeah, well, he didn’t succeed." Jim grinned at Trixie, "Looks like your friend’s warning about pickpockets was valid. We’ll just have to be really alert. Dan, how are you after your little spin?"
"Same as you, ticked. That dude came out of nowhere. At first I thought he must have just been anxious to get his luggage. Guess he only wanted yours."
Diana shook her head, "You know, with all these people around you would have thought that at least someone would have offered to help or called the police or something."
"I agree, Di, they don’t seem all that hospitable," Honey replied in a strained voice. "Guys are you sure you are okay? Where did Mart get to?"
For the first time they all realized that Mart wasn’t around. They looked around the people milling around collecting baggage and greeting friends, but saw no sign of Mart’s blond hair.
"Should we split up and start looking for him," Dan asked.
"I don’t know about splitting up too much. This is a large place and none of us can communicate all that much. I’m sure Mart is just checking out the food options in a Spanish airport." Brian tried to keep his tone light, but he couldn’t keep the worry out of his eyes.
Trixie didn’t say anything, but that feeling she had felt on the plane was coming back. There was a mystery here and no matter how hard they tried, she knew they would be involved in it shortly. The man who had attacked Jim had looked familiar, if only she could remember from where.
Within seconds after beginning to follow Jim’s attacker, Mart knew that it was hopeless. He was in a totally strange airport in an even stranger country. And he was chasing some weirdo that had sent to physically fit young men half his age flying through the air. I’m getting as bad as Trixie, he thought, Running off, half-cocked, trying to catch the bad guys.
Just as he was about ready to turn around and find his way back to the rest of the group, Mart caught sight of a large man ducking around a corner. Maybe, just maybe this was the guy. As he neared the place he had seen the man disappear at, he saw the universal sign for the mens’ room.
Trying to act nonchalant, he walked in. There was no one in sight. Must have been my imagination, he thought. Then he heard a rustling coming from a stall. Then again, maybe it wasn’t.
Looking around, Mart couldn’t find anywhere to hide. The only stall with a door was the one in use. He couldn’t exactly hide in a urinal either. Before he could decide what to do, the door to the stall flew open and a large man wearing a dark-green trench coat came out. It was the same man that had knocked Dan and Jim around. He glared at Mart and came toward him, muttering in Spanish.
As the man came closer, Mart began thinking, Okay, I’m supposed to be smart. How am I going to get out of this. Think, Belden, think! Crap, this man is big. And I can’t understand a word he’s saying… not good, this is so not good.
"You are American. With the red-haired man." Sergio was not exactly thrilled with how the retrieval had gone, but maybe the day wouldn’t be a total loss.
‘Well, I guess he speaks some English.’ For the first time in his life, Mart couldn’t say anything. He just stood there, leaning on a urinal, grinning.
‘Great, a dumb American. He’ll tell me nothing.’ Sergio groaned. He grabbed Mart by the shoulders and pinned him to the wall.
Finally Mart spoke, "Uh, Señor, ¿Dónde está el baño?"
Chapter Three
13 Marzo
Aeropuerto de Barcelona
1200 horas"Okay, Di and I will go down that way, where all the food signs are, at least I think that’s what the signs mean." Brian ran his hand through his dark hair. "Dan, you and Honey hang out here with the luggage in case Mart comes wandering back. And Jim, you and –"
"Jim and I will go down that corridor," Trixie interrupted, pointing in the direction the boys’ attacker had been seen running toward last.
"Fine. Just all of you be careful. Whistle if you get into trouble. I doubt any of the rest of us will be able to hear it, but it could bring some kind of help." Brian looked at his watch, "Let’s meet all meet back here at 12:30." The three pairs began to go their separate ways.
"Wait a minute," Di interjected. "What should we say if we want to ask people if they’ve seen Mart? Does anyone know how to ask, ‘Excuse me, have you seen a tall, cute, blond American guy chasing a big mean-looking man?’ in Spanish?"
She was met by five blank looks. Suddenly Trixie giggled. The others looked at her as if she had lost her mind.
Before anyone could reprimand her, Trixie hurriedly said, "I know, this isn’t a laughing matter. Just the thought of trying to say all that to some of the not-so-friendly looking strangers running around here struck my funny bone. You do have an important point Di, how are we going to ask people…but let’s leave "cute" out of Mart’s description."
As Trixie had hoped everyone laughed and the mood of the group lightened considerably.
"Did anyone think to bring a Spanish-English dictionary or phrase book?" Jim queried.
Dan reached into his backpack and pulled out a small book. "Well, I did think that this might come in handy." Quickly he leafed through the battered dictionary until he found what he was looking for. "Here’s what I want. ‘buscar – to search for.’ That’s what we are doing. And guy is hombre. Now all we need to find is blond."
"Isn’t that amarillo," asked Honey, her forehead creased in concentration.
"No, that’s some kind of animal," Di said.
Dan laughed, "Actually Di, armadillo is the animal. And Honey, amarillo means yellow…here it is; blond is rubio. Okay gang, if we say Nosotros buscar rubio hombre americano, hopefully someone will understand us enough to help out." Dan tossed the book back into his backpack, and once again the Bob-Whites headed off to look for Mart.
13 Marzo
Cuarto del Baño
Aeropuerto de Barcelona
1205 horas"¿Dónde está el baño?" repeated Mart, staring into Sergio’s angry face.
The Spaniard didn’t say a word; he just glared angrily at Mart. "¿Qué has dicho, americano?" he asked in a strained voice.
‘Oh, crap, now he thinks I speak Spanish.’ Mart grinned at him, ‘Okay, here goes…’
"Señor, una cerveza, por favor."
Sergio shook his head, he didn’t get it. ‘Creo que este chico está atrasado.’
Mart felt the man’s grip relax slightly. If he was going to get out of this situation, he was going to have to think fast. He glanced downward. His feet were dangling about a foot from the floor. If he brought his foot up quickly, he could probably connect with a part of the Spaniard that would cause him to really relax his grip.
‘Oh, well, sorry about this buddy, but here goes nothing,’ Mart thought. Aloud he said, "Uno, dos, tres, contact."
As Sergio doubled over in pain, Mart slid to the floor.
Barely stopping to look back, Mart took off running and skidded out the door of the restroom. He had no idea where he was or which direction to go in, he just wanted to get out away from that weirdo fast.
Sergio crouched, groaning on the floor of the restroom. Having just reached the conclusion that the American was retarded, the last thing that he had expected was an attack like that. He knew that he should go after the blond boy, but he wasn’t sure if he could walk yet.
What a day. He’d been meeting planes since 5 am, then when the right plane had finally arrived, he let the disc slip right through his fingers, and now he had been physically assaulted by a mentally deficient American. He should have never even gotten out of bed that morning. Why was everything going so wrong? Then it came to him…viernes trece… it was Friday the thirteenth. That explained everything. He’d never get that disc back if things kept going like this.
Dan and Honey sat on the floor, leaning against the luggage cart talking.
"Dan, why do you think some guy wanted to snag Jim’s backpack?"
Dan shrugged, "I don’t know Honey, probably just a random pickpocket."
Honey looked at Dan and shook her head. "I don’t think so. He seemed to know exactly whom he wanted. I mean, he totally shoved you out of the way and wouldn’t lay off Jim. It was like he was after something."
Dan frowned. "True, Honey, but what would some strange guy that none of us have ever seen before want with us as soon as we landed here in Spain. It doesn’t make sense."
While walking through the throngs of people in the food courts, Di and Brian were having a similar conversation regarding the attacker.
"It just doesn’t make sense, Di. The guy came out of nowhere, but seemed to know exactly what he wanted."
Di nodded, "I was thinking the same thing Brian. It was like he had it all planned out. I thought it was strange also because there were a couple other backpacks just lying on the ground that would have been easy for him to grab without drawing attention to himself."
Before Brian could respond, Di started yelling. That being so out of character for the usual placid Diana, Brian just stared at her. Then he saw what she was yelling at and he too shouted and waved his arm in the air.
A blond man several hundred feet away looked up. Recognizing Diana and Brian, Mart quickly jogged over to them. "You don’t know how good it is to see you guys. Man, let’s get out of here."
Jim and Trixie started walking quickly down the long corridor. Very few people were there; compared to the area they had just left. They walked along in silence, scanning the faces of the people they passed. They saw neither Mart nor the large Spaniard.
After a few moments, Jim looked down at Trixie. Oblivious to his gaze, she continued checking out the other passersby. Jim wondered what the American woman, Isabel, had said to Trixie. Since that brief conversation, Trixie had been much quieter than normal. Even her laughter and comments when the search for Mart had begun were different. She had seemed to withdraw somehow. More often than not he could sense her moods and almost read her mind, but now there seemed to be some sort of block.
Finally, feeling the intensity of his gaze on her, Trixie looked into Jim’s eyes and smiled. "I don’t think Mart is in too much trouble, you know," she said. "There is something strange going on, but I don’t think it has to do with Mart."
Jim chuckled. "I was thinking something like that myself."
"Jim, why do you think that man tried to get your backpack. If he was just a pickpocket out looking to score, there had to have been easier things to grab than a backpack on a man surrounded by other people."
That hadn’t been the strange thing on Jim’s mind right then, but it had been a thought as he had been wrestling the stranger on the luggage cart. "I don’t know Trix, maybe he just liked the color. He mumbled something about mochila as we were struggling. I don’t have a clue what that means, I’ll have to look it up in Dan’s dictionary. I’m sure Mart is fine also."
For some reason Jim felt nervous asking Trixie about her conversation with Isabel. He’d never felt nervous around her since he had met her years before in the ramshackle mansion that had belonged to his great-uncle. There had been a strange sort of recognition between them at that moment that had bonded them together. Now for some reason he felt that whatever change had suddenly come over Trixie, it was going to change their relationship forever.
"Jim, you seem to be concentrating on something awfully hard. Want to share?" Trixie looked into Jim’s green eyes that often seemed able to read her very thoughts. Suddenly see didn’t want him to share with her. She cared for Jim deeply but at sixteen she was not ready for a lifelong commitment. She had never thought much about that before, but whatever had stirred inside her during the conversation with Isabel, had also made her more aware of the feelings between herself and Jim.
Jim took a deep breath. There were so many things he wanted to share with her, but searching for her brother in a Spanish airport was not the place for any of them. But he had to tell her something, anything, so that she would know of his desire to understand her. "Trix, I was just…"
From a distance they could hear the faint yet piercing blast of the Bob-White’s signal whistle. Turning in unison, they saw someone waving to them from the other end of the corridor. Grabbing Trixie’s hand, Jim said, "We’ll chat later, let’s get out of here." Together they started to run to where the rest of the group was waiting for them.
Chapter Four
13 Marzo
Hotel near las Ramblas
In Barcelona
2330 horasTrixie stretched out on the soft bed. What a day it had been. She rolled over. The room was still except for the deep, even breathing of Di and Honey. She sighed inaudibly, until she had sorted through the events of the day in her mind, there would be no sleep.
Slowly and silently, she arose. Carefully she picked up her shoes and coat, guided by the dim light filtering through the curtains from the street below. Softly she opened the door and slipped out into the hallway.
The hotel that Mr. Wheeler had made reservations for them at was rather old, yet modernized in an unobtrusive manner. Small electric lanterns hung at intervals down the hall, casting a golden light over the polished wooden floor. It was the first hotel Trixie had ever seen without carpeting, but that only added to its character. The Bob-Whites all had rooms on the ground floor. The hotel was designed around a central patio area. That was Trixie’s destination.
She tip-toed down the hall to the glass door that opened onto the patio. Noiselessly she opened the door and, wincing slightly as her feet touched the cold cement, walked to a small bench.
Even though Barcelona in mid-March was warmer than Sleepyside, the night air was still quite chilly. Hurriedly she pulled her tennis shoes on and zipped up her coat. Leaning against the back of the bench, Trixie let her mind drift back over all that had happened to them since they had arrived in Spain.
Pushing thoughts of the American woman, Isabel, to the side for the moment, Trixie concentrated on the strange assault on Jim. Both he and Dan were none the worse for wear for the rides on the luggage cart and carousel. Mart, also, showed no ill-effects from his run-in with the strange man in the restroom. There was something about the whole thing that just didn’t sit well with Trixie.
Once Trixie and Jim had made it back to the rest of the group, they had all hurried to find the taxis to take them to their hotel. Dan and Honey had met some English-speaking German tourists, while the rest had been searching for Mart, who had cheerfully explained to them where to find the taxis. Luckily, they had found a driver that not only had station wagon that they could all crowd into, but also spoke some English.
It was difficult to talk about what had gone on in the airport as they had driven into Barcelona. Not only were there new sights to see, their driver had taken it upon himself to give them a Spanglish explanation of all the sights that they could see while in Spain, Barcelona in particular. They quickly learned two things…one, that Spaniards talked quite a bit using their hands and gesturing and two, Spaniards drove like maniacs and rarely watched the road. Trixie remembered holding her breath as they had squeezed between two large buses and then watching in amazement as a teenage girl on a motor scooter had casually zipped between them and a bus with centimeters to spare.
Once they had arrived at the quaint hotel and checked in, the Bob-Whites had gathered in the girls’ room to discuss what had happened at the airport. Jim shared what he had heard the man mutter as they had been rolling away on the luggage cart. A quick check in the dictionary of the word mochila showed that it was Spanish for ‘backpack’.
Then it had been Mart’s turn to tell his story. They had all laughed at Mart’s lack of words and the boys had winced when Mart explained how he had gotten away. However, when Mart repeated what the Spaniard had said about the red-haired American, the group fell silent. The man was a complete stranger. How did he know that they were all traveling together. And how did he know that they were Americans if he had never spoken with them. They could have been British or German or Irish. None of them had wanted to voice what they were thinking, but the same word ran through all of their minds, "MYSTERY."
Trixie shivered. Still there was something about the man that bothered her. She couldn’t place it. All afternoon and evening she had been trying to put two and two together and get four. Except, she wasn’t sure if she had two and two and she didn’t know if four was the answer she was looking for. ‘Man, this is scary…I’m starting to think of clues as if they were parts of a math problem.’
After resting for a bit in their rooms, they had regrouped and decided to explore a little bit of Barcelona. They only had that evening and the next morning. Their train to Valencia left at noon on Saturday. They had decided to take a taxi to the Sagrada Familia the next morning on their way to the train station. The famous unfinished cathedral and the train station were in opposite parts of the city, but the Bob-Whites were too worn out to go so far that evening. Also, the desk clerk in the hotel had explained to them, in broken English, that the stores along the Ramblas would not be open early in the morning and that afternoon and evening were the best times to check them out.
The Bob-Whites had enjoyed that suggestion immensely. They checked out the small stores along the cobblestoned Ramblas. There were souvenir shops that catered to the tourists that frequented the walkways. Fruit stores with their colorful wares spilling out of crates seemed to be at every corner. Almost as numerous were bakeries whose fresh-baked bread smells seemed to pull them in. Mart had bought some cookies there and the Americans were amazed to find that they were rather bland tasting with a hint of anise, nothing like Moms’ chocolate chip cookies back home. Then there were magazine stores that sold just about everything from juice to bread to candy – with a few magazines thrown in and finally the tobacco store that had advertisements for stamps in the window. Almost as entertaining had been to watch the performers. There were acrobats and mimes and "statues" – people covered in white paint and dressed in white clothing that appeared to be frozen, only if you watched very carefully could you detect their slight movements as they changed positions.
Old people and young people alike seemed to be out enjoying the lengthening spring days. Nuns walked by carrying large baskets of fresh produce, side-stepping small boys kicking a soccer ball through the crowd. Laughter rang out from street-side cafes and shouts of happiness and disappointment came from bars where men were gathered watching a soccer game before going home after the day’s work.
Trixie was still surprised that even with the strangeness and unfamiliarity of it all, she had felt almost at home. None of the Bob-Whites understood much of the conversations around them or the signs, but they found that pointing and smiling were still universal. The money was a bit confusing. It appeared that the decimals were in the wrong place. They had all exchanged money at the airport before getting their luggage, but none of them were sure exactly how it worked. Honey had tried to buy some postcards that were marked 4 for 100 pesetas. She thought that was rather a steep price and had tried to ask the cashier in the magazine shop what exactly it meant. Becoming frustrated with the communication barriers, the cashier had finally just given them to her saying, "Gratis, gratis," which they had taken to mean free. And since no cops had come after them, they must have understood correctly.
As the sun went down, they found themselves hungry. A quick discussion had been held to decide what to do. None of them felt ready to taken on a full out Spanish restaurant, where menus and everything would be in Spanish, or even worse, Catalan. Mart and Dan had voted for looking for a Taco Bell or McDonald's when Diana had noticed a sign that said CALIFORNIA PIZZA.
Upon entering the pizza parlor, the American teenagers felt like they were back in New York. The menu was in English and Spanish and a juke box was playing American music. After ordering, a man had come out of the kitchen to meet them. He was one of the owners of the restaurant with his brother. They had decided several years before after visiting Spain that they were seriously in need of another pizza place besides Pizza Hut and Telepizza, a Spanish pizza place.
By the time they had finished eating, jet lag and the effects of a long day had taken its toll. When they had reached the hotel, the girls could barely say good-night to the boys because they were yawning so much. As usual, once she had brushed her teeth and washed her face, Trixie had been wide-awake. Not so with the others.
With the puzzle of the strange man still in her mind, Trixie tucked her feet underneath her body and pulled her coat a little tighter. She had been sitting out in the patio for at least half an hour and parts of her body were starting to feel numb, yet she still wasn’t feeling tired.
For about the tenth time that day she replayed the conversation with Isabel. She couldn’t get over the strange feeling she had felt when the American woman had begun talking about her love for Spain. Even now, just thinking about it, Trixie felt an ache deep inside, like she had lost something important. What had Isabel meant when she said, ‘Tu serás española.’ Trixie had looked it up in Dan’s dictionary and eventually figured out that it meant, ‘You will become Spanish.’ What could that mean? How could she become Spanish? She was an American and had been for several generations.
Isabel had also practically promised her that she would return to Spain someday and had said that it wouldn’t get rid of her dreams just put them in a new light. Trixie shook her head; her dream was to become a detective. It had been that for several years now. Just like Brian’s had been to become a doctor. True, he had changed his career plans after his trouble last year, but she wouldn’t do that. Honestly, she could think of nothing else to do with her life. Why would she ever need to change her goal? Unbidden, Jim’s face flashed through her mind. That brought a blush to her face. She and Jim had something special, something that they had never had the courage to explore. How did that fit in with what Isabel had said and why would Jim have anything to do with her changing her life’s goal? True, Jim teased her about being a Schoolgirl Shamus like her brothers did. He also got angry with her about putting her life in danger. Would he ever try to force her to give up her dream? She didn’t think so. Jim had his own dreams that he would rather die for than give up.
Suddenly Trixie felt as if she were being watched. She was not alone on that deserted patio. ‘Deep breath Belden, deep breath, it’s probably just a cat.’ Cautiously she shifted her weight and slid her feet to the ground. She heard a slight bump followed by a muffled groan. Silently she rose from the bench and rounded the large potted orange tree that concealed her bench from the door. A man’s back was toward her. Should she yell for help, try to get past him and make it through the door, or find something to hit him over the head. As she surveyed the area and looked for a weapon, the moon came from behind a cloud. The patio was bathed in a soft glow and Trixie realized who the man was.
Softly she called out, "What do you think you are doing out here stumbling around at this time of night."
The man whirled around in surprise. Then he grinned, "I could ask you the same thing, Miss Belden. What is keeping you up at this time of night."
Trixie walked over to where Dan was standing. "As usual I had too many things running around in my brain so I decided to sit out here for awhile and process some stuff. What about you?"
Dan shrugged, "Similar stuff I guess. I just can’t get over the weirdness of that attack in the airport today. There was something that was just not right for a random attempted theft."
"Oh, do they teach you stuff like that in your criminology classes at NYU?" Trixie asked with a grin.
"Actually they do explain some stuff. I, however, usually just go by my gut feeling."
Trixie knew exactly what Dan was saying. That is how she knew that, as much as she would like a nice peaceful vacation, this just wasn’t going to be it.
"Well, I think I have everything sorted through and I’m actually starting to feel tired. I think I will go back to bed. Maybe in the morning I will remember what I’m trying to remember about that man."
Dan laughed, "Remember what you are trying to remember, huh? Sounds real logical. Are you saying that you know that man from somewhere? My, my you do get around the world."
As Dan was teasing her, something clicked in Trixie’s mind. "Dan, that’s it. I did see him somewhere. I saw him at the airport."
"Trix, I think you are tired, I know you saw him at the airport. We all saw him at the airport."
"No, before he tried to steal Jim’s backpack. Remember when we were in line to show our passports? Before I started talking to Isabel? I said that there was a man staring at us. A man in…"
"In a dark-green overcoat! That’s right. I saw him too. Mart didn’t - then. But he said that the guy that he chased into the restroom had a dark –green overcoat when he came out and caught him."
"Dan, I’m sure it’s the same man! What do you think?" Trixie’s blue eyes lit up with excitement.
"I think that I would have to agree with you, Trix. But why would he try to steal something from Jim, who he saw arrive with a whole group of people? Why not try someone traveling alone?"
"Maybe he was waiting for us Dan. Did you think about that?"
Chapter Five
14 MARZO
A BAR IN BARCELONA
0400 HORASBlurry-eyed, Sergio looked at the three men seated at the table. They were waiting for him to outline the next part of the plan. ‘Concentrate,’ he told himself, trying to sort through the disjointed thoughts in his mind. He needed only to focus on getting that disc back. If only this resaca would let him remember all the details of the plan. After the dismal failure in the airport the day before, like an idiot, he had gone to a bar and drank the afternoon away. Usually alcohol had no effect on his mental and locomotive skills, but this time, he’d surpassed his past records. After drinking for 8 hours straight his mind had been so muddled, that he barely was able to stagger out and flag down a taxi. Back at the gypsy hovel by the port, he had slept for a few hours. It hadn’t been enough time to sleep off all the effects of his binge, but he hoped it had been enough to allow him to lay-out the plan to these men so they could get the disc back before it was too late.
"Bueno…Ahora sabemos quien es el…" he broke off as one of the men raised his hand.
"¿Qué?" he responded shortly.
"There’s a small problem, Sergio, I don’t speak your Spanish."
Sergio glared at the wiry Arab man. He’d forgotten that this man, though master of many languages, was unable to speak Spanish or Catalan. This reminder did little to improve Sergio’s frame of mind. He hated to be mistaken in anything. It made him look bad and when he was in such a precarious position with his jefes, this was the last thing he needed.
Beginning again he said, "O.K. as I was saying, now we know who the carrier of the disc is, and we know his destination." Reaching into the pocket of his overcoat, he pulled out several small pictures that he had taken at the airport that morning. "Here, this one is the man who has it."
The other three men carefully and silently studied a picture of Jim coming through the check-in gate. Sergio produced similar pictures of each one of the Bob-Whites. "These are the others in his group. They appear to not leave each other for very long."
After the brief, yet intense study of the pictures, one of the two Spanish men snickered. "Sergio, you let these little Americans escape you? ¡Maricón!"
Sergio lunged at Pablo’s throat. The little man had always irritated him, but this was going too far. The Arab and the other Spaniard quickly removed his hands from Pablo’s throat.
Watching his younger brother massage the red marks on his throat left by Sergio’s fingers, Pedro said, "Sergio, ignore him. He is just being un imbécil once again." Glaring at Pablo he added, "Siempre tienes que ser el payaso."
After a few calming breaths, Sergio continued, his hands shaking with the efforts of controlling the semi-released anger, "The red-head has the disc – it is in his backpack. He and his group are to go to Valencia today. I’m thinking it will most likely be the 1230 Talgo. I heard them yesterday say they wanted to see la Sagrada Familia before leaving the city. Now, your duties."
He paused, closely eyeing the two Spanish brothers and the Arab seated before him. So much depended on their success. It continued to amaze him that the jefes would allow him so few men on this assignment. It wasn’t as if the assignment was a simple drug transport, or even weapons, this was serious. And the men they expected him to use! Pedro was the only one he had total confidence in. Both the Arab and Pedro were veterans of their respective affiliations, but Sergio had never felt very comfortable around el árabe. Bernard was useful in some ways, but could never be completely trusted. He had switched sides so many times that he probably couldn’t remember whom he was supposed to help and whom he was trying to screw over. Pablo was another thorn in Sergio’s side. He had yet to prove himself in any way. The only reason he was included was because of his older brother’s deep loyalty to the cause. Sergio reasoned that Pablo couldn’t even spell lealtad, much less demonstrate it.
"Pedro and I will go to Sants. We will watch all of the trains heading south to Valencia."
"Arabe, you will take the 0800 Talgo to Valencia and wait in the station, meeting all trains from Barcelona. This is just a precaution in case we fail on this end."
"What about me, Sergio, what do I get to do?" Pablo whined, keeping as far from the large man as possible in the small room.
"You, Pablo, will go to la Sagrada Familia this morning and look for them. Pretend to be one of los mendigos in front of la catedral. Todos, remember, our goal is to retrieve the disc, not to harm Americans."
Shaking his head in disgust, Sergio continued, "Of all the people Bernard had to choose, he planted it on an American. Just grab the backpack, find the disc and get rid of everything else. Are there any questions? ¿Preguntas?"
The Arab spoke softly with a hint of derision in his voice, "It sounds good, Sergio, but I have just one question. Wouldn’t the American have discovered this computer disc among his belongings?"
Sergio chuckled and a big wicked grin stretched across his sullen features, "Very good, Arabe, very good. I was wondering if any of you chalados would question on that. Bernard has taken care of this detail. You see we are not transporting this information via a floppy disc, oh no, that would easily be discovered. Everything has been saved onto a CD-ROM."
His wicked grin faded into a look of self-satisfaction as he continued, "No one will ever think to look for anything on a U2 album."
The other three men joined in the chorus of evil laughter. How ironic this was! That Bernard, he had his sense of humor no matter what side he was playing. This list, the all important list that was wanted by every government in Europe and the Middle East and probably every government on the planet, was safely saved away in the recesses of a U2 compact disc carried by an unsuspecting American. That little round disc contained not only the names of every member of the IRA, ETA and PLO, but those of their sympathizers in the United States and Russia. Also, it gave proof to the suspicions of the connections between these three terrorist groups. If it fell into the wrong hands… Sergio didn’t even want to think of the consequences. His life wouldn’t even be worth a peseta one found lying in the gutter. Today must bring success!
Chapter Six
14 marzo
Barcelona
0800 horasBy the time Trixie woke up, showered and got ready for the day Honey and Diana were gone. The rest of the Bob-Whites were gathered in Brian and Jim’s room finalizing their plans for the morning. They had all agreed that they wanted to see the Sagrada Familia before leaving Barcelona, but they needed to be on the 12:30 train to Valencia. From the information that the desk clerk had given them the night before, it appeared that the train station and the cathedral were in opposite parts of the city. Now they were trying to decide on the most effective way to deal with their luggage and do some sightseeing.
"Hermanita, why dost thou rise so late?" Mart greeted his sister as she entered the room.
Flipping her still damp curls in her almost-twin’s face Trixie replied, "Please, don’t mix your cultures. A Shakespearean twist was okay when we were in England, but it just doesn’t have the same effect in Spain." Turning to the rest of the group she added, "Sorry I’m running late guys – must be jet lag. Why didn’t someone wake me up?"
"You were sound asleep and then Dan mentioned that you’d been up pretty late," Honey answered. "Anyway, it’s only eight o’clock. If we leave in about half an hour, we should be okay. We can get breakfast at one of those places Juliana e-mailed us about…what was it called?"
"Ah, yes, a churrería…where they sell a donut-like substance with a thick drink derived from the cacao plant. Good call, Miss Wheeler." The mention of food had grabbed Mart’s attention, as usual. Smirking at his sister, Mart continued, "And it appears that mystery-itis has attacked your system once again, sister dear. Were the thoughts of a psycho Spanish giant keeping you up until the wee hours?"
Before Trixie could think of a fitting retort, Dan spoke up, "Actually, when I went out to the patio around midnight to get some fresh air, Trixie and I did talk about our new friend. Trix, do you want me to tell them what we discussed or shall I?"
Sitting down on the bed next to Jim she said, "You tell them Dan. Maybe if it comes from you it will be taken seriously."
Dan briefly recounted the conclusions that he and Trixie had come to the night before. There weren’t many, but all the connections seemed to fit. "It could be a total coincidence, of course," he ended, "but it doesn’t feel like coincidence."
When he finished the room was silent. Trixie scanned the faces of her friends for signs of disbelief. To her surprise Brian spoke.
"You know, you guys could have something."
In unison, six pairs of eyes were trained on Brian’s face.
"You agree with me?" Trixie asked, hardly believing what her oldest brother had said.
"Actually Trix, that isn’t what I said. I think that you and Dan may be on the right track, but what does it mean and what can we do about it?" Brian shook his hair out of his eyes and continued, "Coincidence? By now I think that we should all have learned that nothing that ever happens to any of us is coincidence, especially if it involves you, little sister."
"I’ll second that."
Trixie started as Jim spoke. She’d been concentrating so hard on Brian that Jim’s voice surprised her. She had only partly listened to Brian, so intent had she been on watching him. He had changed so much in the past year. Growing his hair long enough that it fell into his eyes was only a part of it. Now as she realized Jim was going to say more, she found herself almost afraid to hear his next sentence.
Jim was her closest friend next to Honey, but he sometimes acted slightly anal retentive about their adventures. Slowly she let out a repressed breath as she listened to his thoughts.
"Since most likely this is not a coincidence, why then did some crazy guy attack me for my backpack? And what can we do about it now?"
"Maybe the answer to your first question, Jim, is in your backpack? Have you gone through it?" Di asked, nudging the object in question that was lying innocently on the floor with her toe.
"I looked through it last night, Di, and didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Guess I might as well check again." Reaching for the pack as Di handed it to him, he went on, "And to answer my second question, I think that we should just do what we always do – be careful and stick together."
He set the pack between himself and Trixie and began to sort through the contents. "I don’t have a whole lot in here…my Franklin planner, passport, gum, miscellaneous pens and pencils, a sweatshirt and sunglasses." He piled the objects in Trixie’s lap. "Let’s see what else…notebook, CDs and player, some Lifesavers and then there’s a Grisham novel. Actually, that I don’t remember bringing with me."
Jim was right; nothing out of the ordinary was in his backpack.
Trixie picked up the John Grisham paperback. Maybe this was a clue. Jim said he didn’t remember bringing it. Before she could go into what Mart called "Schoolgirl Shamus mode" Honey reached for the book. "Well, Jim, I can solve this mystery. The book is mine. I was reading it in London while you guys were exploring the airport. Since I had left my backpack at home and Trixie had hers, I just stuck it in yours. I’d forgotten all about it."
Brian stood up from where he had been sitting on the floor. "Well, if that’s it, we should get ready to head out. We want to hit the Sagrada Familia while we have enough time to enjoy it. I’m all packed up so I think I’ll go talk with our friendly desk clerk and see if he can shed anymore light on the best means of transportation to where we want to go. Anyone else want to come help communicate?"
Mart and Dan followed Brian out into the hall, assuring him that they would come join him with the dictionary as soon as they had their bags together. Di and Honey began to leave also. Turning to Trixie, Honey asked, "Coming, Trix?"
"Uh-huh. In a minute." Trixie was staring at something in her lap.
Jim had begun to repack his belongings that were strewn about the two of them. While he was doing that, Trixie had unzipped his Franklin to see if anything appeared to be out of place. Suddenly she had found herself staring at her own face.
It was a snapshot of herself and Jim in front of one of the fountains on Temple Square in Utah. The picture had been taken the year before when Jim and Brian had been attending the University of Utah. Trixie and Honey had made a surprise visit to the boys one weekend and their lives had never been the same. When the girls had arrived, Brian was nowhere to be found. Jim had to be the one to give them the heartbreaking news. Many of the cases Trixie had been involved in had been personal, but nothing had been as difficult as Brian’s disappearance and all that had followed.
Trixie remembered the circumstances of that picture. The promise of information on Brian’s disappearance had led them to Temple Square in downtown Salt Lake City. Trying to act like normal tourists, Honey had taken the picture of Jim and Trixie. Right after that Jim had seen Chris, the man who was at the root of Brian’s problems, duck into the Tabernacle.
"Hey, it’s okay. He’s back, he’s fine and honestly, I think he is better now than he has been in quite some time." Jim slowly pulled the planner from her hands and closed it.
Trixie looked up, "I know, I know. I tell myself that all the time." A shaky smile came to her lips. "Jim, how do you always know what I’m thinking? So often you have the right thing to say."
He had many theories on answers to those questions, but they would have to wait. "I guess I just know you pretty well, Trixie Belden." He hesitated for a moment and then thought, ‘Get a grip, Frayne. Take a risk!’ He reached over and pulled Trixie into a tight embrace.
Trixie stiffened at first in surprise. Then she relaxed, feeling safe. Before she realized it, she was crying softly. She hadn’t cried since Jim had first told her what was going on with Brian months ago.
Feeling her tears through his shirt, Jim whispered, "Are you alright?"
Trixie shrugged and in a ragged voice replied, "I don’t know. Sometimes I just wish that we could go back a couple years and avoid all these problems and changes. I know Moms wishes the same thing."
Jim was silent. He didn’t completely agree with Trixie on this. Also, he knew for a fact that Brian, even though he knew he had done a lot wrong, would not want to go back in time to how things had been two years ago. How could he sensitively tell Trixie this?
"Trix, not everything in the past two years has been so awful – even your mom would back me up on that." He paused, trying to word his next sentence carefully. "I think that you should talk with Brian. You know, you haven’t had a chance to really talk with him since he was released. He can help you understand what happened and why things are as they are now."
That hadn’t come out exactly as he had wanted it to, but he thought she would understand. Gently he rubbed her back as she finished crying. He had been so worried about her during the past year. He knew that she had kept all of her feelings bottled up for too long. That wasn’t normal for Trixie. She wasn’t one to keep things inside. How he wished that he had already taken those educational pyschology classes that he was enrolled in for next semester. Some knowledge of handling emotional crises would come in handy right about now.
Trixie let Jim’s words sink in. It was true, she hadn’t really talked to Brian since he had returned to the East Coast. Shortly after his years’ sentence was over in Utah, he had returned to New York. Almost immediately he had enrolled in classes at a junior college in New York City and moved in with Dan and Jim. There had been many times when she had started to talk to her oldest brother about all that had gone on and why he had gotten involved in situations like those, but something always held her back. Maybe it was time to renew the old relationship that had existed between her and Brian.
The sound of someone clearing their throat caused Trixie and Jim to pull away from each other.
"Umm…we’re ready to leave." Di smiled at them. "The guys got all the directions that we need from the desk clerk and had him call us a cab. It should be here any minute."
Honey stuck her head around the doorjamb and added, "Yeah, he also suggested that we go to the train station first, buy our tickets and put our luggage in lockers. Then we won’t have to worry about coming back here or keeping a cab the whole time we’re at the Sagrada Familia. He told Brian that there’s a pretty direct subway line from the station to the cathedral and that it’s much quicker and cheaper than taking cabs all over the city."
As she and Honey headed back down the hallway, Di added, "Oh, Trix, we got your suitcase. You just need to grab you backpack and jacket. We’ll see you two out front in a minute."
Trixie stood up to follow them. When she reached the door, she turned back to Jim. He had stood up and was gathering his things. The only words she could think of to tell him how much these few moments had meant seemed inadequate, but they would have to do. "Jim," he looked up, "thank you."
He smiled. He understood all that she expressed with those two words and simply answered, "Anytime, Trix, anytime."
He watched her leave the room. In the moments that he had held her in his arms, he had realized that he would always want to protect her and keep her safe. That was something that was as much a part of him as was his temper. He hadn’t done a very good job of protecting her from the pain with Brian and that still bothered him. He smiled to himself. ‘Protect Trixie Belden?!’ How does one go about a task like that? The thought reminded him of that song from The Sound of Music, "How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria". You couldn’t tie a moonbeam like Trixie to anything, that was for sure. Well, he was willing to figure it out in the years to come, but right now, it was time to enjoy Spain and keep an eye out for crazy giants mumbling about red hair and mochilas.
***Warning…there is a violent scene in this chapter***
Chapter Seven
14 marzo
La Sagrada Familia – Barcelona
0915 horas"WOW!" All seven Bob-Whites turned their eyes heavenward. Pictures and postcards had not even come close to showing the intricacies of Gaudi’s design. It was no wonder that la Sagrada Familia was one of the most famous pieces of architecture in Spain. And it wasn’t even completed! The spires seemed to almost touch the clouds.
After another wild ride through the Barcelona streets, the Bob-Whites had joined the throngs of people in Sants, the largest of Barcelona’s train stations. Jim and Mart, armed with traveler’s checks, had stood in the long lines to buy their tickets for the 12’30 Talgo. The rest of the gang had searched out a room full of lockers where they could stow their baggage until their departure time. With those errands out of the way they had, with less difficulty than they had thought, found the subway, or metro as it was called in Spain. Following the desk clerk’s directions and the map they had seen on the wall, they had taken the "linea azul" and quickly found themselves at the plaza near the Sagrada Familia.
Now, standing in the shadows of the multi-spired cathedral the Americans, even Mart momentarily, were speechless. Earlier that had not been the case. Mart had treated them all to a mini-lecture on Gaudi and his work in the taxi and the metro. Thanks to that, they knew that Gaudi had taken over construction of the cathedral around 1883. Work had progressed slowly for over forty years, ending when Gaudi was tragically killed by a trolley. In later years, work had again begun on the building and even now, it was still under construction. There was not much money to fund it; however, volunteers, students of architecture, and others worked it on.
"This is cool guys, but I fear that if I don’t get some sustenance soon, I won’t be able to make it across the street, much less up one of those spires." Mart grabbed Dan’s arm as he feigned passing out.
Laughing, Dan played along, "Hang in there, old man, it’s been barely twelve hours since you consumed an entire large pizza for dinner. I know you must be faint with hunger." He attempted to life Mart up and added, "In fact, you’ve lost so much weight that you’re as light as a feather."
Dan tripped on an uneven spot in the sidewalk and a small disaster occurred. Staggering under Mart’s weight, he couldn’t regain his balance. As the two young men began to fall, Dan flailed his arms about, trying desperately to find something to break his fall. As luck would have it, he managed to grab on to one of the many benches that line the streets of Spain, saving himself from crashing to the ground. Unfortunately, he couldn’t save himself from having Mart land on top of him.
The other five Bob-Whites were gasping for air, laughing at the spectacle Dan and Mart had created with their antics. Several passersby stopped to watch, but seeing that no one was injured, continued on their way, muttering under their breath about the turistas.
Dan groaned and shoved Mart onto the ground. "You know, I think that I’m going to end up with more bruises from this vacation than I ever had from learning how to ride."
The Bob-Whites were so focused on helping Dan and Mart up that they failed to notice a small, mean-looking man who had paused a bit longer than the others. Nor did they notice when he moved a safe distance away and pulled out a cell phone.
"¿Sergio? Soy yo, Pablo. Ellos están aquí. Todos los siete.*" Pablo was sweating. He was actually a part of this historic assignment. He couldn’t believe his luck.
"Bien. No los dejes salir de allí sino que tienes la mochila del pelirrojo. ¿Me entiendes? Si fallas en está, te voy a matar con mis propios manos.*" Sergio couldn’t believe that the whole mission could rest on the weak shoulders of Pablo, the little rata. He couldn’t let that happen. He turned to Pedro and held a brief conference. Back on the phone he continued, "Pablo, ¿me oyes? Voy a mandar Pedro a la catedral también. Al mejor, necesitarás ayuda.*" Yes, he’d send Pedro and then he wouldn’t worry as much. He’d stay himself at the train station in case anything went wrong at the cathedral.
Pablo’s fear turned to anger. Always, always his big brother was sent to make sure he did everything right. Never had he been allowed to do something on his own. "Pero, Sergio, yo puedo hacerlo. No necesito la ayuda de nadie. Voy a ser mendigo en frente de la catedral y agarraré la mochila cuando se entran por las puertas. Todo como nos planeabamos en la madrugada.*"
"No. No tengo confianza en ti.*" Sergio spared no one’s feelings, probably because he had none himself. "Pedro ya ha salido.Tu no hagas nada loco. Si la perderemos, te pagarás.*" With that he closed his phone and leaned back against the wall of the station.
Closing his eyes, Sergio asked himself once again why he had let himself get involved with ETA all those years before. He could have been a successful lawyer if he hadn’t have fallen for the lure of fast and relatively easy money 25 years ago. It had been easy. Just take a package on the train in Barcelona, leave it and get off in Tarragona. Simple. And they had paid him 50000.00 pesetas.
He had been horrified when he later learned that the train had wrecked due to an explosion from a hidden bomb. His wife had been relieved at his luck since the bomb hadn’t detonated until after he had gotten off. He didn’t have the proof then, but deep down he had felt that the innocent looking package that he had left sitting on a seat had been the one that contained the bomb. From that moment, one his life had slowly spiraled downward. ETA had him. They had proof that he was the one who had planted the bomb and they threatened to release it to the authorities if he refused to help them. Later they had taken his wife. He had no idea where she was now, or if she was even alive. Without her, there hadn’t been any reason to stay on the right side of the law, so he accepted a job from the men who had kidnapped her. Someday he hoped to find out what had happened to her, his Maruja.
Oh, he was tired of running around the continent, carrying messages and bombs. He hated arranging kidnappings and things like that. He was getting too old for that stuff. He wanted a desk job, like his jefes. And that is what he would get if all went well with this disc. He wasn’t into all of this terrorism, but he had to put on a good show so that he could move up the ladder. Pedro and Pablo didn’t realize that, they were both still young enough to be idealistic and believe everything their trainers told them. Arabe was another story. About ten years younger than Sergio, he had been involved in different terrorist groups since he was ten years old. He was truly dedicated to the cause, whichever one it was for the country he was working in, just as long as it furthered his own country’s ideas. That is probably why Sergio never felt comfortable around him, Arabe could see through his tough, loyal image to the anger and discontent in his soul.
"Maria, que me bendigas con exito esta vez…* " he whispered a brief prayer and made himself comfortable to await the report from Pedro.
After a filling breakfast that had very little nutritional value, consisting as it was of churros (long, thin donuts fried in oil) and chocolate caliente, the Bob-Whites crossed the plaza to the entrance of the Sagrada Familia.
Lining the walkway were several beggars. Some had their hands outstretched and muttered unintelligible phrases at everyone who passed by. Others sat on small rugs with their bodies twisted into positions that looked impossible to get into, much less out of. Still others had small dogs curled up near them. All were dressed in ragged, black clothing with some kind of container nearby for people to deposit money into as they entered the church. None would make eye contact with the people that passed them.
Honey, with tears in her eyes, started to reach into her pocket for some change. Dan saw her and grabbed her wrist. "Mart isn’t the only one who looks things up on the Internet before we go somewhere. One website I checked out about Spain and traveling said to watch out for the beggars. Most of them are just people who are trying to scam you. Some are college kids that want a thrill or a little extra cash."
"Or trying to get money to support a drug habit. You wouldn’t be doing them a favor at all, Honey." Brian added quietly.
It was so against Honey’s nature to walk by someone in need that she didn’t know what to do. Her mind told her that Brian and Dan were correct, but her heart wanted to help these hopeless looking people.
Linking arms with her best friend, Trixie said, "I know you want to help them, but we don’t have enough money with us to help them all and how could you choose just one?"
Nodding sadly in agreement, Honey headed through the entrance with Diana and the boys. Trixie looked closely the beggar closest to the door. There was something a bit different about him. What was it? Then she realized he was looking straight at her. Or at least his eyes were focused on something. Then it dawned on her, Jim’s backpack. She had his backpack on. He had asked her to hold it while he had carried their churros to a bench. She hadn’t thought to give it back, being so accustomed to wearing one. She and Honey were sharing a backpack and today was Honey’s day to carry it.
Pablo, realizing that the blonde girl was staring at him, he turned his eyes from her backpack to her face. Seeing a look of understanding, followed by fear in her eyes, he knew he had to make his move. Slowly he pulled himself out of the tangle he had turned his body into and approached her.
In halting English he whispered, "The backpack, girl…give me the backpack…"
As he had begun to stand up Trixie froze. What should she do? What was he going to do? Unhesitatingly she whistled the bob-white whistle Jim had taught them years before. It was their code for help and she hadn’t needed to use it for quite awhile. Now she just hoped that one of the boys was close enough to hear it and come see what the problem was.
Just as Pablo decided that he was in the clear and was already composing his call of success to Sergio, two men came out of the cathedral. He recognized both from the photos Sergio had shown him early that morning. One was a man with longish dark hair that fell over his eyes. The other was a blond who looked a lot like the frightened girl in front of him. He recognized him as the one who had outwitted Sergio in the bathroom at the airport.
The men began to close in on Pablo and he did the only thing he could think of, he ran.
"Trix, what was that all about?" Brian asked, concern showing in his eyes.
"Yeah, were you trying to get exercise tips from him?" Mart added, trying to joke his sister out of her fear.
"That guy was weird! He just started to stare at me. Except he wasn’t staring at me, he was staring at the backpack." Trixie shook her head as if to clear her mind.
"Probably hoping it was filled with food or money."
"No, Mart, I really don’t think so. You see, I have Jim’s backpack right now. And right before you guys came out he told me to give him the backpack."
"What?" Jim was suddenly at her side. "Someone was after the backpack again?" He mentally kicked himself for forgetting to get it back from her. Until they knew what was so important about it, he didn’t want to let it out of his sight. Especially he did not want anyone else to be in danger because of it.
"Trixie thinks the beggar that was here shaped like a pretzel wanted the pack. But when we came out, he took off. I think it was probably just some guy hoping to rob an innocent young tourist." Mart just wanted to get inside. He had a creepy feeling that someone was watching them. Trixie was starting to rub off on him.
"Well, he’s gone now, so why don’t we get started on exploring this place. We don’t have a huge amount of time to spend here." Trixie grinned in spite of her recent fright. Brian, no matter what had happened, hadn’t changed in his practical way of getting everyone back to his or her original plan.
"¡Ostras!* " No wonder Sergio didn’t trust him. He should have just grabbed the mochila and run. Would he ever learn? It had been such a great plan and worked so well in his mind. Now he would just have to try and get it in the cathedral.
Following a large group of school children into the building, Pablo found a place where he could observe the Bob-Whites without being seen. He listened to them chattering away and gesturing about. He decided that what Bernard had said to Sergio was correct, Americans talk way too much.
He came to attention when he saw his "prey" head for the stairs. Fine with him if they wanted to go up the dark, narrow stairway. He would zip up to the observation deck in the elevator and be waiting for them. Also, he had noticed that the pelirrojo had the backpack again. That was important to know.
"Umm, could someone tell me why we choose the stairs over the elevator again," Dan asked no one in particular as the Bob-Whites slowly made their way up the spires of the Sagrada Familia.
"To really get the true effect of this impressive masterpiece," Jim said with a weak laugh.
"To work off the effects of the churros we all devoured a short time ago," Di’s voice drifted down from the front of the group.
"To make us appreciate the wonders of modern conveniences, such as elevators," Brian added.
Weak laughter echoed in the narrow stairway. Before starting up, they had studied a large model of what Gaudi had envisioned over one hundred years ago as he took over construction. There was still much to finish. He had designed twelve spires and as of now, there were only eight. They had also learned that the lower spires were 100 meters tall and the central spire was 60 meters taller than that! From the street, they had noticed a sparkling affect on the tips of the spires. A pamphlet that Di had picked up explained that they were bejeweled with shards of glass and tile which was said to be a Gaudi trademark. One of the reasons for this was that glass and tile could withstand the ravages of weather better than many other substances.
Nearing the top Honey commented, "And to think that Gaudi actually slept here for years. This place must have become an obsession for him."
"Or after climbing all these stairs to check on the progress he was too tired to climb back down," Trixie added impishly.
"Finally, we’ve reached the look out." Mart leaned against the doorway. "It’s a good thing that I had all that sugar for breakfast. I would never have had the energy to make it up."
As the others chuckled, Trixie looked at their surroundings. She had that eerie feeling that their every move was being monitored. A quick surveillance showed a few other groups of tourists and no one that looked like the man who had approached her earlier.
Trixie walked over to look out across Barcelona. They were so high up. It was a good thing she wasn’t afraid of heights. It was an incredible view, one that she wanted to capture on film. As she started to turn back and get her camera from the backpack on Honey’s back, she felt a hand on her back.
Thinking it was Jim she asked, "Hey, look at this view! I think the climb up was worth it, but I’ll take the elevator down."
A sinister voice whispered in her ear, "You will go down there," and a hand motioned over the parapet she was leaning on, "unless you give me the backpack."
Trixie knew that it wasn’t Jim behind her. Somehow the beggar from the entrance had gotten up here and hidden among the other tourists. What was she going to do and where were her friends? Doing a dive from half-way up the Sagrada Familia was not in her itinerary for this trip.
"I don’t have it. What do you want anyway?" Maybe she could stall him long enough for someone to notice that she was having a bit of a difficulty.
"Maybe not, but you can get it for me. I must have it." Pablo was desperate. He had to prove himself. He had to retrieve the disc before his big brother came to save the day once again. Oh, how he hated for everyone to look at him as a little shadow to his perfect older brother. Even in the mili* , it had been like that. He had been sent to Mallorca, as had Pedro, and always he was being compared to him. Just once, he would like to do something for himself and be the one to make the decisions.
As the small man moved his hand from her back to around her waist, Trixie tried to whistle, but nothing would come out. What were her friends doing?
"Why is the backpack so important to you? We don’t even know you?" ‘Come on, Jim, Brian, Dan, even Mart…clue in here that something funny is going on behind your backs.’
"The backpack is non-important. It is what it carries. I must have it!" Pablo didn’t want to throw the American girl over the railing, but if that is what it took, he would do it.
Suddenly there was a small commotion by the elevator. Pablo looked back and saw a man in some kind of uniform getting off. Also he noticed the blond and two dark-haired men start to approach him.
"Do not come close or the girl, she go over the side." With that he lifted Trixie up and shoved her half over the rail so that her feet were dangling in the air.
‘Oh man! This is bad. When I was little I wanted to fly, but this isn’t how I wanted to learn.’ Now she could see where the Bob-Whites were. Di and Honey were off to her left. Her brothers and Dan were coming straight toward her and her captor. She didn’t see Jim and could only hope that he had some plan.
"Where is the pelirrojo? I must get the backpack!" Pablo didn’t realize it, but he had crossed the delicate line between sanity and insanity. It was all or nothing now. If he didn’t get the disc then Sergio would kill him. If he got the disc and dropped the girl, he would probably never make it down out of the cathedral with his life.
‘I’m coming Trix. Just hang in there. If this nut drops you, I swear I’ll dive after you.’ Jim wished that Trixie could hear his thoughts, but the important thing now was that Dan, Brian and Mart keep the beggar’s attention long enough for him to get close enough to grab hold of Trixie somehow.
Without warning, Pablo seemed to snap. Screaming in Spanish, he let go of Trixie’s waist and she slid further over the railing, just barely catching her arm around it. He whirled around to see Jim almost on top of him. Turning back, he saw a police officer and the other Bob-Whites. He had wanted to make his own decisions for so long and now it looked like he would finally get the chance. Many times in their training, they were told that they must be willing to sacrifice everything, even their lives for la causa. He had never thought that the time would come when he would have to test that teaching. But here he was faced with being caught and interrogated until his connections with ETA were revealed or escape, and he could see only one way to do that.
The wildness that he saw in the beggar’s eyes frightened Brian. He had seen looks like that before, from Chris and from another man that he had met a few months before returning to New York. Chris had tried to kill him when he got that crazed look and the other man had killed himself five minutes after Brian had seen him. Brian motioned for Dan and Mart to stop. If they pushed too much further who knows what the man might do.
With a slightly crazed look, Pablo turned to Jim and said, "I just needed the disc. It was so facil." With that he leapt onto the railing and screamed, "¡Yo soy Pablo Prat! ¡Sergio, yo morí por la causa!* " With a wave of his hand, he threw himself over the side to the street many meters below.
Several people screamed and Jim dove forward and grasped Trixie’s arm. Quickly he pulled her to solid ground and kept his arms tightly around her. Once again, he hadn’t been there to keep her safe, only arriving to pull her back at the last minute.
After seeing that Trixie was okay, Dan spoke briefly to the police officer about what had happened. Without too many language difficulties, he was able to convince the officer that they had no idea who the man was and that it must have just been a random robbery gone bad.
"Trixie, are you okay?" Mart hugged her so tightly that she couldn’t breathe.
"I’m fine, now." That was the closest she had come to death in a very long time and she didn’t want to dwell on it too long.
Brian went and looked over the railing. He couldn’t see much, just a large group of people in a huddle over some dark spot far below on the sidewalk.
"Brian, did he…did something stop…" Honey couldn’t bring herself to ask what was on all their minds.
Brian put an arm around her shoulders and said, "No, nothing stopped him. I think that he hit part of a statue on the spire with his head so he was unconscious when he landed."
"I think that we all need to get down from here, fast," Di said, looking from one pale face to another.
"Right as usual, o lovely one," and Mart grabbed her hand and led her toward the elevator where Dan was still conversing with the officer, dictionary in hand.
"Are you really okay, sis?" Brian asked, looking closely at his sister’s face. He had been too close to crazies like Pablo; he knew that it affected you in some way, no matter how brief the contact.
With a shaky smile, Trixie nodded her head. "Of course I’m fine. Have you ever known me not to be fine? But I agree with Di, I think we need to get down from here." With a small giggle she added, "You remember how I wanted to fly when I was about five?" Brian nodded. "Well, I think that is as close as I ever want to get and it wasn’t as cool as I thought it would be."
Both Honey and Brian smiled at Trixie’s attempt to reassure them that she was fine and the four of them walked over to wait for the elevator to make it’s labored trip back up the spire.
Trixie and Jim walked a couple of steps behind.
"Trix, I’m sorry I didn’t get there faster. I should never have left you by yourself knowing that some loon was around."
"Whatever Jim! We had no idea that he had come in here. He had run off like a scared baby when Mart and Brian had come out to get me earlier. I shouldn’t have wandered off without one of you guys anyway. And anyway, you got there in time as usual."
Grabbing his face in her hands Trixie looked him straight in the eye. Once again, the words were inadequate, but Jim always seemed to understand what was behind them, "Thank you, Jim."
Smiling into her eyes, Jim did understand and said simply, "Anytime Trix, anytime."
As he climbed to the street from the metro, Pedro scanned the beggars lining the street looking for his little brother. He loved Pablo, exasperating as he could be, and just wished that he had been able to get his brother involved in something better than terrorism. But after their parents had died when he was 15 and Pablo was eleven, there hadn’t been much choice. It was work for ETA or try and survive in the streets.
As he prepared to cross the street, he heard several people gasp and say something about someone jumping off the cathedral. Joining the crowd he looked upward and saw a figure poised on the railing waving his arm. Fear struck his hear. Somehow, he knew that it was Pablo. What was he thinking?
Suddenly the person jumped. About half way down his head hit part of a stone wall. Screaming, Pedro shoved his way through the crowd with the thought of somehow breaking his brother’s fall racing through his mind.
A sickening thud met his ears seconds before he made his way through the crowd. It was hard to recognize the face of the person that lay crumpled on the ground in front of him, but Pedro recognized the ring of their grandfather that Pablo always wore. With a sob, he knelt down by his younger brother and tried to pick his broken body up.
Someone in the crowd told him not touch him until the police came. Pedro glared and replied, "Este es mi hermano. Mi hermanito.* " Soon the only sound that could be heard besides the ever-present traffic were the low sobs of a man who had lost his one relative and now wanted revenge.
DISCLAIMER: These characters are used without permission…however they are not being used for monetary gain. Sadly, they are fictitious, but any resemblance to real people, living or dead, or real happenings is entirely possible.
This should answer some questions on the Brian thing…
Chapter Eight
Talgo to Valencia
Leaving Sants in Barcelona
14 Marzo
1230 horasTrixie sank into the seat next to Honey with a sigh of relief. The morning’s sight-seeing excursion had taken quite a lot out of her. Dangling hundreds of feet above the ground in the hands of an insane man would freak anyone out, even Trixie Belden. She lay her head against the headrest and closed her eyes.
Four more hours and then they would arrive in Valencia. She wanted to be back in total control of her emotions before greeting Juliana and Hans. This was supposed to be a fun and restful vacation – not one of their vacations-turned-adventures. All of them had been looking forward to a relaxing visit to the Mediterranean for weeks.
Honey watched her best friend. Once again, it had been a close call for Trixie. Honey had lost track of the number of times Trixie had almost lost her life when involved in one mystery or another. This time, though, they weren’t even actively involved in a mystery. However, it appeared that somehow they were getting entwined in one yet again.
Honey wasn’t sure how she felt about that. The past year or so had been pretty quiet and mystery-free. All their friends and family were pleased with that. All four parents agreed that, as they had suspected, the detective work was just a phase the girls had been going through.
With the older boys off at college and Mart being heavily involved in school to prepare for college and trying for scholarships, the Bob-Whites weren’t together as much as they had been. The adults in their lives thought that the girls, Di included, were just focusing on school and "normal" teenage activities. They were partially correct. Junior year was proving to be a bit more intense than any of them had thought.
Di was often busy working on the art portfolio that she needed to get into a good art school. Honey was finding that not only was math enjoyable, but that she had a knack at understanding the complexities of it and also finding science incredibly fascinating. Trixie, more to her own surprise than that of anyone else, was discovering a hidden talent in writing. She didn’t use the multi-syllabled words that her "almost-twin" was so fond of; she stuck with "real-people language." She received praise from her English teacher in the simple yet honest and direct papers that she wrote. She hid nothing with flowery phrase, she just told it how it was.
Honey shook her head to come out of the deep thoughts that she was entertaining. Actually, schoolwork had nothing to do with staying out of mysteries. And it wasn’t as if there were none around anymore. The real reason had to do with a promise Trixie had made a year and a half ago sitting in front of a granite building in Utah.
Near the climax of the disappearance and recovery of Brian, the girls and Jim had been staked out at Temple Square. An exchange was to be made there and they were hoping to get Brian back. Trixie and Honey had been standing near the north entrance of the square when Trixie had made her vow. She had turned to Honey and in a tone more serious than Honey had ever heard her use, she had said, "I just promised God that if Brian came back to us safe and alive that I would never search out another mystery."
Honey had stared at her with an open mouth. She had started to ask Trixie how that would help anything when Trixie had continued.
"I would do anything for Brian. Giving up detective work is worth it to have him back."
Honey had wanted to say that she didn’t think that God worked on conditions, but she knew from Trixie’s expression that this promise was keeping her hopes alive. Moments later Brian and his captor had walked through the gates and chaos had reigned.
Trixie and Honey had never really spoken of this conversation again, but Trixie had kept her word. No more mysteries.
Honey had to admit to herself that she really missed it. In the years of being friends with Trixie, she had lost much of her timidness. She was not as daring as Trixie, but she had grown to love the adventure. Now it looked that vow or no vow, they were being tossed smack dab into the middle of something mysterious and sinister.
The thoughts going through Trixie’s mind were similar to those of Honey. She had felt the tell-tale signs of a mystery since they had boarded the flight in Heathrow. She didn’t know what to do. Not only had she made her promise with God, she had also promised her parents that there would be no mysteries while they were in Europe. Her mother hadn’t felt the need to tell her that for quite sometime, but for some reason, mother’s intuition maybe, Helen Belden had felt that Trixie needed that warning once again.
So here they were, in a foreign land where none of them really spoke the language, and attacks had been made on Jim, Mart, Dan, and of course, herself. All of them had bruises to show for it, but no idea why they were being targeted. The man that had threatened to throw her off of the Sagrada Familia had demanded a disc from her. She had no idea what he meant. They had no discs, no laptops or anything like that with them. Whatever it was held such importance that the man had been willing to give his life for it. Now she wondered what connection, if any, there was between the man who’d tried to kill her and the man from the airport.
The train began to rumble out of the station and through the tunnels until it finally reached the surface and they began to zip along through the outskirts of Barcelona. Trixie remembered another time that the Bob-Whites had been together on a train. When they had gone out to Missouri to visit her Uncle Andrew’s lodge in the Ozarks a train had been part of their journey. How different it had been from this. That train had rattled and poked along. This Talgo just seemed to fly, picking up speed and going faster and faster.
‘I don’t think that sitting here is going to help me forget the events of this morning,’ Trixie thought. ‘Maybe I can talk with Honey about something.’
Turning to her best friend, Trixie saw that Honey had her eyes closed and appeared to be sleeping. Looking to the seat behind her, she saw that Dan was also resting. Mart and Di were sitting across the aisle. They were busy figuring out how to work the headphone jack in the armrest to listen to the movie that was being shown. That was another difference from the train in the Ozarks, this one came equipped with TV and radio.
Two rows in front of her she saw Brian and Jim in deep conversation. She thought back to the conversation she had had with Jim in the hotel earlier that morning. He was right, as usual. She did need to talk about some things with Brian. She had steered away from serious discussion with him for quite sometime. Deep down she knew that she hadn’t forgiven him for all the pain and worry he had caused their family. Also, she knew that she needed to forgive him to start the healing process. The strain between the two of them caused other worries for her parents and it was beginning to affect Bobby.
Just as she got the courage to get up and go ask Jim to trade places with her, she saw Mart move forward to talk with them. ‘Great,’ she thought, ‘now he’ll start talking with Brian and I’ll lose my nerve.’
Instead of sitting down, Mart just asked a question. Jim reached into his backpack and pulled out a CD, which he handed to Mart. Mart headed back up the aisle. Seeing Trixie watching him, he paused at her seat.
"Well, sister, how are you doing?" Mart tried to make his voice light, but the concern he felt for his only sister showed in his eyes.
"Great. Just trying to decide if I want to sleep or not."
"Well, I’m going to go sit in the back and watch our luggage. I don’t know what’s up, but if that crazy from the airport was involved with the guy at the Sagrada Familia, there could be more of them running around and someone could end up on this train."
Trixie nodded. It made sense. Their bags were on some shelved compartments at the back of the car. It wasn’t the most secure way to protect your luggage on the train, so it was a good idea for someone to watch it. "Good idea, brother dear, that’s using your gray matter. Hey, what are you listening to?" she asked, eyeing the case in his hand.
"I borrowed Jim’s U2 CD. All of mine are packed in my suitcase. THAT wasn’t using my gray matter, but I’ll accept your earlier compliment." Patting her affectionately on the head, he continued to the back of the coach.
Trixie turned her attention back to Jim and her oldest brother. ‘Here goes nothing,’ she whispered and stood up.
Lightly she touched Jim’s shoulder. He looked up in surprise.
"Trix, are you okay? Want me to get you something?"
Trixie didn’t want to have to explain what she wanted from him right then. She stared into his eyes and willed him to understand her need. "I’m fine. I’ve just been sitting there thinking about what we were talking about this morning. You know, with your planner and everything."
Comprehension showed in Jim’s eyes and he nodded. "I see. Have you come to any conclusions about what we discussed?" He hoped that she had. He’d just been talking with Brian about Trixie and how she seemed to have shut off communications with her brother. Brian had agreed, but admitted that he didn’t know how to make the first move.
"Yes, I have. I’ve decided that I should probably take your advice."
Jim broke into a smile. Good, his best friend and his…well, his other best friend needed to get these things worked out and what better place than a speeding train that they couldn’t escape from. Standing up he turned to Brian and said, "I’m going to stroll through some of the other cars. Maybe I can see if that guy from the airport has happened to follow us here. You keep an eye on Trixie. I don’t want her to find another person to try and teach her how to fly."
As he slid by her, Trixie cautiously lowered herself into the vacant seat next to Brian. ‘Now what?’ she thought as the train slowed to a stop at a station outside of Barcelona.
Sergio had seen the group of Americans enter the station. They didn’t look as sure of themselves as they had the day before in the airport. All of them seemed quite subdued. He wondered if Pablo had done something crazy trying to retrieve the disc. He noticed that the blond girl. who had been talking so animatedly the day before, was silent today.
He quickly joined the group of people behind the Bob-Whites, hoping to hear something important, or even to get close enough to grab that backpack. Being as he had heard nothing from Pablo or Pedro, Sergio wasn’t sure what his next move would be.
Straining to hear the conversation, Sergio almost knocked over a small child. Muttering an apology, he hurried to catch up with the Bob-Whites. They were descending the stairs to the lower level where their train was waiting. Sergio happened to glance at a TV in the waiting area. It was tuned to a local news broadcast. Something caught his eye and he paused.
"No, no puede ser," he said aloud as he moved closer to the screen, the Bob-Whites momentarily forgotten. That couldn’t be Pedro he saw hunched over a broken and bloody body at the base of the Sagrada Familia. The headline that flashed across the screen simply read Una suicida a la Sagrada Familia – Un hombre desconocido saltó.
What had happened? Did this mean that the Americans still had the disc? The Americans! Where were they now?
Sergio made a dash for the stairs leading to the trains. He hurriedly punched the number for Pedro’s mobil. Before the connection could be made, he heard the final departure announcement for the 1230 Talgo to Valencia. Jamming the phone back into his pocket, he leapt down the last few stairs. Running to the platform, he saw that it was no use. Even if he were to jump, he still couldn’t reach the caboose.
Cursing under his breath, he pulled his phone out once again. This time he entered the number for Arabe. Waiting for the connection to go through, he formed Plan B. Arabe would have to be on the alert and he, Sergio, would rent a car and try to catch the train in Castellón de la Plana. This simple mission was getting way too complicated.
"Arabe, soy yo, Sergio. Tenemos un gran lío aquí."
"Sergio, let’s try that again, in English." The mocking tones of the Arab made Sergio grit his teeth.
Thinking thoughts that would take more than one confession to clear up, Sergio repeated, "We’ve got a problem here."
The Arab leaned against a column in front of Estació del Nort in Valencia. Turning his face to the warm rays of the sun he thought, ‘This will be good, I’m sure.’
Sergio continued. "There appears to have been an accident with Pablo."
The Arab stood up straight, "An accident? Pablo?" He could only guess what that kid had done this time.
"He’s dead," Sergio said bluntly. "I know no details. I just saw the noticias. I’ll call Pedro now. The americanos are on the train. You must watch for them. I will arrive as soon as I can."
Turning off his phone, Arabe shook his head. He didn’t like working with ETA anytime, but when they put him with such amateurs, it was even worse. However, if he didn’t work with them and the disc fell into the wrong hands, it wouldn’t matter what he liked.
Chapter Nine
Talgo to Valencia
Eastern Coast of Spain
14 marzo
1330 horasFor several kilometers Brian and Trixie sat in an uncomfortable silence. Trixie stared at her hands folded in her lap while Brian watched the scenery zip by. Neither knew how to begin the conversation.
Clearing his throat, Brian began, "So Trix, how are you feeling now?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he mentally kicked himself. ‘Dumb question! She always hates to be asked that.’
Staring at her hands, Trixie replied, "Fine." Not knowing what else to say, she kept her eyes downcast. ‘This is going great,’ she thought, ‘I should’ve stayed in my seat.’
A few more minutes passed and Brian could take it no longer. This tension that existed between himself and his only sister had to end! He realized that Trixie had been hurt even more than his parents had by his drug problem. She had seen him at the very worst. In the past year and a half he had gradually been able to rebuild some trust between himself and his parents and brothers. But with Trixie things had been much more difficult.
Turning to her he began, "Trix, I’m going to tell you a story, okay?" Without looking up, she nodded. Sighing, Brian reached over and lifted her chin until her blue eyes were looking into his brown eyes. She wasn’t going to make this very easy. "Listen carefully all the way to the end before saying anything, please." Again, she nodded.
"Once upon a time there was a boy. He grew up in a loving home with great parents, two younger brothers and a younger sister. Since the boy was the oldest, a lot was expected of him – by his parents, his siblings, and most of all, by himself."
Trixie opened her mouth to say something and Brian motioned for her to be quiet and continued.
"When this boy was young, he decided that he wanted to be a doctor when he grew up. For years this was his goal and he read anything he could find on the profession. He tried to learn as much as he could about medicine and he kept up his grades all through school. Everyone who knew him thought that he would make a great doctor. He had always accomplished the goals that he sat and he had never let anyone down in their expectations for him."
"Finally it was time for the boy to go to college. After a lot of thought, he chose to attend the University of Utah, not only because they had offered him a full scholarship, but also because he had liked the atmosphere of the campus when he had visited. Later he admitted to himself that another thing about it that he liked was that it was about as far from home as he could get. Sooner than he had thought, he and his best friend had moved across the country to Salt Lake City. At first, everything had gone well. The two boys moved into an apartment, enrolled in classes and dealt with homesickness. Then the young boy with the goal of being a doctor made some new friends and things began to change."
Brian paused and stared out the window. This next part was the hard part that he’d never been able to explain to Trixie. Stalling for time, he reached into his backpack and took out a bottle of water. After taking a long drink he offered the bottle to his sister. Wordlessly Trixie took it and drank. Brian continued.
"These new friends the boy made were different than anyone he had ever known before. He’d had a close group of friends back home, so close that it had been painful to leave and come out West. True, he had his best friend with him, but they were both were so busy with classes at first, that they rarely saw each other. The boy started working at a pharmacy downtown. It was a good job and would be good experience. His scholarship covered tuition and his books and most of his rent, but unless he wanted to rely on his parents, he needed a job. Since the boy had never expected his parents to give him everything, this was the only way to go. At first, his new friends seemed normal to him. In fact, they seemed to be trying to include him in everything they did. He’d met them in the student union one day and started talking about Salt Lake and Utah in general."
"The boy was so busy with work and lectures and labs and homework that he always turned down his new friends’ invitations to parties. Then one day he decided to go. He was getting so stressed out by all of his responsibilities that he decided that he needed to have some fun for once."
Brian looked at Trixie and saw that she was still watching him. She was sitting stiffly in her seat, but her eyes were beginning to soften.
"So the boy went to the party. There were a lot of people there. Most of them were older than he was. A lot of people offered him things to drink – beer and harder stuff. The boy had decided several years before that he wasn’t going to drink because he didn’t want to lose control of himself. He’d always prided himself in how well he was able to stay in control. His new friends laughed at him, all of them that is except Chris. He had made the others lay off and he had gotten the boy a Coke. The party was fun and the boy enjoyed it. Then he had another Coke. This one tasted a little odd but he didn’t think much of it. If only he had realized then what that Coke would do to his life."
Brian felt the anger that he had thought he had overcome in the past months trying to take over. His counselor had told him to expect that, it was normal. He reached for the water bottle Trixie was still holding and took a drink. Then he took a couple deep breaths and smiled wryly at Trixie. She was a tough kid, his sister was, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear how her big brother had gone from the perfect child to the prodigal son.
"What this boy did not know was that his new "friends" had slipped a hallucinogen into his drink. A short time later he started feeling more relaxed than he had for weeks. Thinking that it was caused by taking time to have some fun, the boy went home and decided to hang out with these people more often. Two nights later he went to another party with his friends. Again he refused the alcoholic beverages and was brought a Coke. By his third can, he was starting to feel out of touch with what was going on around him. Getting worried he asked his friend Chris to take him home. Chris had obliged, but only on the condition that he would stay for one more drink. The next thing the boy knew it was early morning and he was waking up on the floor of the bathroom in his apartment. He had no idea how he had gotten there or what was going on."
Brian twisted the cap on the water bottle back and forth. He hated reliving those weeks of his life. How he wished he could erase them and forget that they had ever happened in some ways.
"By the end of that day the boy felt rotten and thought that his best friend must think he was some kind of a loser to go partying on a school night and then come home wasted. When he got home he yelled at his roommate and stormed out, hoping to find Chris and ask how he’d gotten home. His best friend was confused by his behavior but just put it down as stress from school."
"The boy found Chris and Chris invited him over for a Coke and said they could talk. After finishing the Coke the boy was already feeling more relaxed. That was when Chris told him what was going on. That his drinks had been laced with a drug and that the night before he’d gotten pretty high and just couldn’t remember it. That was how the drug affected some people."
Putting his head in his hands remembering the conversation Brian said, "I was furious, Trix. Hell, I was studying to be a doctor and I knew how bad drugs were for you. I never wanted to abuse my body in any way. My first thought was how you and Moms and Dad and everyone else would react if they found out I had experimented with drugs. I lunged at Chris, ready to throttle him. He had just sat there and laughed and shoved me to the ground. Then he said that I’d had enough drugs pumped into me that unless I slowly weaned myself off them I’d crash hard and that could be dangerous. That made sense. I knew enough about narcotics to know that was true with many drugs. Chris said that he’d supply me with what I needed if I’d help him out with something."
Trixie couldn’t help herself, "Brian, that jerk tricked you! It wasn’t your fault." True she had known most of this for quite sometime, but hearing it directly from Brian helped.
"Right, sis. He did trick me. And it wasn’t entirely my fault to begin with. However, if I’d been smart I’d have gone straight to the police, or Jim or even Dad and gotten some help. Instead, I decided to take care of it on my own. I was a big kid, in college and I was used to taking charge…I’d been doing it all my life as the oldest. What Chris wanted me to do was illegal. He’d wanted me to steal certain drugs and things from the pharmacy where I worked. At first, I said no. But by the next afternoon, I felt as if the whole world was closing in and every little thing set me off. I went to Chris and told him that I needed something. His conditions still stood and I agreed. The next day I stole what he needed and I got my fix."
"Unfortunately, I found that I was needing more and more drugs to keep myself up. When I would stop and think about what I was doing, I would see Moms and Dad and the disappointment in their faces and that would make me feel even worse. Then I’d go to Chris and he’d hook me up with more. He also kept feeding my resentment of being the oldest and the responsibilities that I’d had in that position in the family…I guess when I got high that is what I would talk about. It was a vicious cycle."
Brian looked at Trixie and saw tears running down her cheeks. He touched his own cheeks and realized that they were damp also. Trixie smiled in encouragement. That gave him the strength to finish his story.
"One day I came down long enough to really realize what I was doing to myself. That same day the pharmacist announced that he knew that things were being stolen and that they had fingerprints. That scared the crap out of me, so I took off. I went home and Jim was there. He confronted me and we had our big fight that he told you about. Afterwards we just sat and stared at each other and I started crying. I wanted out, but I was in too deep to just walk away. With Jim’s help, I wrote everything down and all the names and addresses of the places that I had gone to -- for parties, to do a drop-off or a pick-up. You pretty much know what happened after that…somehow Chris had found out that I was ready to go to the police so they kidnapped me and kept me strung out for several days until they decided to trade me for the list. He knew that I had made the list, but hadn’t been able to find it in the apartment. He’d planned to make an easy trade. He hadn’t planned on you and Honey and your detective skills. That man will be in jail for years. I hope to never see him again, "Brian shivered, "He will kill me if he ever finds me."
"Brian, why didn’t you tell me this before? I never knew that you felt like that about being the oldest?" Trixie was glad that her brother had shared his feelings with her, but she felt terrible that he had had to suffer like that.
"Trix, you haven’t really made it very easy to talk about any of this, you know. I’ve tried several times. About my resentment of being the oldest…I think that is something that every oldest child in a family feels at one time or another, ask Di, I bet she has similar feelings at times. I should have spoken to Moms or Dad about it years ago, but I didn’t. I realize now that I could have handled things so much differently, but it’s over and that’s that."
Trixie sat in silence for awhile, letting everything Brian said sink in. Something Jim had said to her that morning was bothering her. "Jim said that even with all the awful things that have happened, you wouldn’t want to go back to how things were two years ago. Is that true?"
‘How do I word this so that she will understand?’ Brian pulled his hair back into a small ponytail and thought. "Jim’s right. I wouldn’t want to go back to how things were two years ago. I’ve grown up. I’ve gone through my own personal hell and I’ve survived. I’ve learned that the world will not fall out of its course if I am not perfect. I’ve learned that trust can be rebuilt through time and forgiveness and love. We have incredible parents and friends, you know. I could have changed and learned all of these things in another way, I’m sure, but I have to accept what I’ve done in the past, not dwell on it, and get on with my life."
"In the rehab area of the prison I met a man that didn’t believe that. He also wouldn’t accept responsibility for his own actions. He was miserable. I made up my mind that I would not get like that. I didn’t. I took time to reassess my life and accept who I was and where I fit into life. It was hard, but it was worth it. Now I’ve got new goals and they’re ones that I’ve set for myself with no pressure from anywhere. The drug experience didn’t make me want to not become a doctor, growing up did that. I still want to help people. That’s why I plan on becoming a youth counselor in a rehabilitation center. Eventually I may go back to school to become a physician’s assistant or something like that, but for now I’m happy."
It had been a long speech. He didn’t know if Trixie understood what he was trying to convey to her. He sure hoped that she did. To truly rebuild the bonds with his family, she had to forgive him.
Once again, they sat in silence. It was a comfortable silence, the kind that exists between people who care for each other. Trixie quietly reached over and grabbed her big brother’s hand and squeezed it tight. He looked down at her and she said simply, "I’ve missed you."
Chapter Ten
Sants
Barcelona
14 marzo
1300 horas"¡Pedro! Por fin. ¿Qué pasó a la Sagrada Familia?(1)" Sergio had tried calling Pedro for twenty minutes and finally he had answered.
"Mi hermano murió,(2)" Pedro answered in a choked voice.
Sergio was silent for a moment. From the news report he had already concluded that Pablo was dead. Pedro’s statement just confirmed that.
"¿Cómo? ¿Cuando?(3)" Deep down Sergio knew that he should show some compassion, but there just wasn’t room in this business for personal feelings. Not even for a comrade or a comrade’s brother.
"No sé. Llegué a la catedral cuando él saltó. Corrí, pero no llegué en tiempo…(4)" his voice faded out as the scenes of his brother’s death replayed themselves in his mind.
Sergio tapped his foot impatiently. Deaths usually didn’t affect Pedro like this. That’s why he was so good. And Sergio did not have the time to wait for Pedro to mourn. He needed to catch that train in Castellón and get that disc before the Americans arrived in Valencia. True, Arabe was there, but he did not want to give that man one more reason to mock their organization. "Pedro, no tengo mucho tiempo. Sabes si él tenía la oportunidad de…(5)"
Angrily Pedro interrupted, "No, Pablo no recuperó el disco. Murió tratando de hacerlo. No sé más que esto y no puedo averiguar mas.(6)"
"¿Por qué no?(7)" Sergio asked.
"Si yo hiciera preguntas sobre los asuntos de esta suicida, la policia también haría preguntas. Sería mejor si ellos no subiera que Pablo era ETA y es conocido por muchos que yo soy afiliado con ETA.(8)"
"Entiendo, Pedro, entiendo." That’s the last thing that Sergio needed, one of his men to get caught…that would be the end. " Pues, ahora tenemos que decidir adonde vamos.(9)"
___________________________________________________________________
(1)Finally. What happened at the Sagrada Familia?Pedro!
(2)My brother died.
(3)How? Where?
(4) don’t know. I arrived at the cathedral when he jumped. I ran, but I didn’t arrive in time…
(5)Pedro, I don’t have much time. Do you know if he had the chance to…?
(6)No! Pablo didn’t recover the disc. He died trying to do it. I don’t know any more than this and I can’t find out more.
(7)Why not?
(8)If I were to ask questions about this suicide, the police would also ask questions. It is best if they don’t know that Pablo was part of ETA and it is known by many that I am associated with ETA.
(9) I understand, Pedro, I understand. Okay, now we need to decide where we’re going now.
Train to Valencia
Estación de Castellón de la Plana
14 marzo
1530 horasMart looked up from the book he was reading as the train pulled into the station. Lowering the sound on his CD player, he heard the conductor announce the stop. He had no idea what was said, but according to the train schedule he had picked up in Barcelona they should be in Castellón – about an hour away from Valencia. He stood up and stretched. It was time to wake up Dan and let him keep watch on the luggage for awhile.
* * *
Sergio parked his rented car down the street from the train station. Quickly he jumped out and ran toward the station. He didn’t care what happened to the car – it was rented under an alias. He just hoped he wasn’t too late to make the Valencia train.
‘Maybe my luck is changing,’ he thought as he bought his ticket and boarded the train with seconds to spare.
As he walked into the car he stopped suddenly. The car where his seat was located was the car where the Americans were. ‘¡Vaya!’ He couldn’t sit there with all of them. The red-head might recognize him and the blond man definitely would after the scene in the airport restroom.
Quickly he ducked into the car behind him. He’d sit there until the conductor came through and made him move. Then he’d try and get the backpack.
Dan leaned back in his seat near the luggage. He didn’t think that this watch was all that necessary. Mart had sat there for almost three hours and nothing had happened. Jim had walked the train from engine to caboose and seen no sign of the man that had attacked them the day before in the airport. Dan was hoping that the incidents of today and the day before were just random. However, after years of being around Trixie and the rest of the Bob-Whites, he knew that undoubtedly they were related and would surely affect the rest of their vacation.
As the train began to move he looked up as a man stuck his head through the door. After a quick glance, he had left. ‘Was it…no, it couldn’t be.’ The man had looked vaguely like the man from the airport, but Dan had only caught a glimpse. He looked back at the rest of the Bob-Whites. Di and Mart were in an animated discussion about something, as usual. Honey was watching the Mediterranean fly by. Jim was watching Trixie and Brian, who had been talking for almost two hours. Dan hoped that they were reaching an understanding. He knew how much Brian was hurting inside because of what Trixie had seen in Utah.
Dan started thinking back about how his own life had once seemed to hit bottom and then do a miraculous turn around. If it hadn’t been for his Uncle Bill and the Bob-Whites, he’d probably be in jail, or worse, by now; not a high school graduate in his first year studying criminology at NYU. It’s amazing what friendship and trust can do. For example, take that guy at the Sagrada Familia that morning. He probably never had any one he could trust or call a friend. So in the end he had resorted to crime to try and make himself important. Dan shook his head. From personal experience he knew that crime was not the answer.
* * *
"Señor, está equivicado. Su asiento está en el coche enfrente.(10)" The conductor looked at Sergio with a perplexed frown.
Faking confusion, Sergio answered, "Oh, si, esa es la verdad. Lo siento. Cambiaré ahoramismo.(11)" He picked up his overcoat and hat and walked down the aisle.
He looked back at the conductor and saw that he was busy helping a woman stow her suitcase in an overhead rack. Quickly he ducked into the small bathroom cubicle at the end of the car. Reaching into the pocket of his overcoat he pulled out a pair of dark glasses. Then he pulled out a pair of gloves. He pulled them on and looked in the mirror. It wasn’t much of a disguise, but he hoped it would be enough. Due to the craziness of the last couple of days, he hadn’t been able to shave so his face was covered with stubble. Add that to the dark glasses and maybe they wouldn’t be able to recognize him if he moved quickly. Also he wanted to time his actions so that he could grab the bag and get off the train in Sagunto.
* * *
"Mart, how much longer until we arrive in Valencia?" Di had fallen asleep earlier and upon waking decided that she wanted to touch up her makeup before greeting Juliana and Hans.
"A little more than half an hour. You still have plenty of time to fix yourself up." Mart smiled at her, "Now, try and figure out this riddle. I just remembered it from my Spanish class."
"Well," then seeing Honey get up and move toward the end of the car where the restroom was, she settled back in her seat, "Alright, let me have it."
"O.K. First you have to remember that empieza means begin, termina means ends and con means with."
Di nodded and Mart continued.
"Madrid empieza con ‘eme’ y termina con…" He grinned impishly at her. This riddle had driven him up the wall when his teacher had first presented it to the class. Once he figured it out, he’d been dying to use it on someone else. He just hoped it would work on someone who didn’t speak Spanish.
Di looked at him like he’d lost his mind. Mart was smart, no question about it. But sometimes the bits of knowledge that he liked to share were kind of obscure. Stalling for time she asked, "Umm, ‘eme’ is the letter ‘m’?"
"Uh-huh," Mart’s grin broadened.
Just then Di saw Honey leave the bathroom. "I’ll be back in a minute Mart." She got up and walked down the aisle.
Honey saw that Jim had his backpack up on her seat and was looking for something in it. She continued walking to the rear of the car where Dan was. She wanted to check on how the "luggage surveillance" was going.
Moments later a large man pushed by her and stomped down the aisle. Honey and Dan looked up startled. There was something familiar about the build of the man, but neither had gotten a good look at his face.
He stopped at Jim’s seat and said something that only Jim could hear. Jim responded and the man grew angry. In a flash he had grabbed Jim’s backpack and dashed to the front of the car.
In unison the BWGs were on their feet. Jim and Mart started toward the man and Dan tried to explain to the conductor, who happened to enter at that moment, what was going on.
_________________________________________________________
(10)Sir, you are mistaken. Your seat is in the next car.
(11)Oh, yes, that’s true, I’m sorry. I’ll change right now.
__________________________________________________________________
Sergio looked at the approaching boys. The train still had a few more kilometers until it would begin to slow as it reached the station at Sagunto. He didn’t want to jump off yet, but he didn’t see what alternative he would have.
Not realizing what was occurring outside, Di opened the restroom door and walked straight into Sergio. Her eyes darted between him and Jim and Mart and she quickly summed up the situation. ‘Okay, maybe I should just go back into the bathroom.’ She started to back up when Sergio grabbed her arm.
He slung Jim’s backpack over his shoulder and with his left hand reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun. His right arm snaked around Di’s neck. He pointed the gun at her temple and glared at the boys. They froze. One of the passengers screamed. Brian stepped in front of Trixie and Honey as if to protect them. The conductor spoke sharply in Spanish and the passengers sat down.
Sergio looked Mart straight in the eye and said, "One more step and la novia (12) dies." He cocked the gun and smiled.
__________________________________________________________
(12)girlfriend
**The doors on the trains in Spain usually open in but I used my creative license to adapt that to my own needs. All the other stuff on this like who the characters belong to and what I’m doing with them is purely non-profit…we all know that so ya estamos…
Chapter Eleven
Train to Valencia
Right outside of Sagunto
14 marzo
1600 horasTime seemed to stand still. All eyes were fixed on Di and the man holding the gun to her head. The terror in her violet eyes was plain for all to see.
Trixie could well imagine what was running through Di’s mind – fear, panic, anger, and fervent prayer. One difference though, Trixie had faced this kind of situation before and Di never had.
Trixie looked to Mart. He was clenching his hand so tightly that his knuckles were as white as the T-shirt he was wearing. In a hoarse voice he asked, "What do you want?"
Sergio’s evil chuckle resonated through the car. "The disc, boy, that is all I want."
"Disc? We don’t have any disc," Mart answered.
Sergio had opened his mouth to reply when he saw the conductor reaching for the cell phone in the outstretched hand of a passenger. His grip on Di tightened as he roared, "¡Dejálo! No quiero matarla." The phone clattered to the floor.
"You do have my disc. It was placed here," Sergio spoke as he swung Jim’s backpack forward, "in London."
Di cringed as the gun barrel slid down her cheek with Sergio’s gesture.
"Sir, just take the backpack and let her go." Jim tried to keep his voice calm and steady. Nothing in his backpack was worth Diana’s life.
"That is my plan," Sergio replied in a deadly calm tone.
A small whimper escaped through Di’s lips as the cold metal pressed into her neck due to the rocking motion of the train.
We must be nearing a stop, Mart thought, noticing the deceleration of the train. That had to be the answer because there was no way that anyone had been able to notify the engineers what was happening in the car. He heard Dan say something to the conductor, stumbling over the Spanish words in his phrase book. He wondered what Honey, Brian, and Trixie were doing, but he dared not turn around. He was afraid that even one small movement would cause this man to harm Di.
Dan had been leafing furiously through his book hoping to find something to say to the conductor. He glanced up and saw Trixie gripping to the back of a seat, her face pale beneath her freckles and eyes glued to the front of the train. Brian had his arms around Honey. Their eyes, too, didn’t stray from the scene up front.
"El hombre…no amigo…no tener…no tenemos disc." He couldn’t tell if the conductor understood him or not, but he hoped that this next word would get through the language barrier, "¡Ayuda!"
"Help? I will help if I can," the conductor replied slowly in English.
Relief washed over Dan, followed by a little annoyance. If the man could speak English, why didn’t he do so earlier?
"Sagunto."
Dan looked at the conductor blankly. "What?!"
"Sagunto. We stop here. He will leave."
Dan sure hoped so, but would the man get off and leave Diana?
Sergio noticed the slowing of the train. He knew that they were about to Sagunto. A hostage was not in his plans; he just wanted the blasted disc. He glanced over his shoulder out the door. He recognized the area. The train had almost slowed enough that he could jump and receive little injury. The girl…he looked down at the face pressed to his gun. So guapa. It would be a pity to destroy that beautiful face, but landing on the gravel along the tracks may be necessary.
"No one moves and the girl, she lives. You can pick her up later." He smiled. The smile reminded Brian of the Grinch from Dr. Seuss’ classic.
"And then you will forget you saw Sergio." It didn’t matter that he revealed his name, he would never see these Americans again. Even if they could somehow identify him to authorities, ETA would have him so secure that even God would not be able to find him.
With his arm still around Di’s neck and his gun now pointing at the Bob-Whites and the other passengers in the car, Sergio backed into the small entrance and pushed down on the handle of the door.
He whispered to Di, "The rocks, they may hurt the pretty face, but it will not kill you, yes?"
Di wasn’t exactly sure what he meant, but she knew that she did not want to jump from a moving train. Not even a slowly moving train. How could she get out of this? What would Trixie do in a situation like this? She had never had Trixie’s penchant for tight spots and danger, she was the quiet one who usually just went along for the ride. Sometimes she had envied Trixie and her seeming lack of fear, but not anymore.
Sergio pulled her closer to the door. The door had swung back toward them and almost shut. Di noticed that his grip had loosened considerably and he had turned his body so that she was closest to the handle of the door. Maybe this was her chance. With the least possible movement, she stretched her hands to grasp the handle. Sergio was concentrating on pushing the door open once more. As he did, Di’s body went with it, throwing him off balance. He tumbled out the door and rolled down an embankment, swearing loudly in words that Di couldn’t understand.
The door bounced off of the side of the train and swung back toward the doorway. Di could hear Mart’s voice, but all of her concentration was focused on hanging onto that handle and keeping her feet from hitting anything that she didn’t want them to hit.
None of the Bob-Whites had seen exactly what had happened in the doorway, but they suddenly saw both Di and Sergio disappear from view and heard Sergio yelling. Mart had leapt to the doorway and seen the Spaniard lying in the dirt along the tracks and Di hanging onto a narrow metal handle for dear life.
What would MacGyver do right now? he asked himself as he surveyed the situation. He thought about reaching his hand out to Di, but what if he slipped? If he couldn’t pull her back in and she fell he would never forgive himself.
He caught sight of what looked like ladder rungs on the side of the car. If Di could grab one of those and pull herself up so her feet were on another rung, she could probably hang on until the reached the station at Sagunto. The train was slowing down even more so it shouldn’t be long until they reached the town.
"Di! Di, listen! The next time the door hits the side, reach out your right hand and grab the ladder." He couldn’t tell if she had heard him or understood him but it was the only thing he could do.
Di didn’t know what ladder Mart was talking about, but she knew that she could trust him. He might joke and play around a lot, but when it was time to be serious, she knew he would be straight with her.
The door slowly swung back to bounce on the side of the car. With speed and strength that she didn’t know that she had left, Di grabbed blindly. There it was: a ladder rung. The door began to swing back and she felt as if she was turning into a wishbone. She didn’t know if she could force herself to let go with her left hand. Somehow she did and both hands were wrapped tightly around the metal rung on the side of the train.
"Pull yourself up one more Di and you can put your feet on a lower one."
For the first time, Di looked at Mart. Was he crazy? Pull herself up? The muscles in her arms felt like wet cotton. She’d never been very good at pull-ups for those silly physical fitness tests in gym…why would it work now? As she caught Mart’s eye, she could see that he was feeling everything that she was. He knew how hard this was for her, but he also had faith in her. He was one of the few that did. She could do it!
Mart held his breath as Di reached first one arm and then the other up over her head. Once they had a good hold on the narrow rung there she pulled her body up until her dangling feet were able to rest on the lowest rung. Her body sagged against the side of the car just as the engineer announced, "Sagunto…Puerto del Sagunto," and the train slowed to a near stop. As if in a distance she could hear people yelling and felt the bump as the train braked at the platform. She heard a few words that for some reason made sense, ‘chica’, ‘loca’, ‘tren’. She didn’t really care what they thought about her hanging onto the side of the train. All she cared about was getting down.
"Di, Di. Let go. I’ve got you. You can let go now." Seeing that she wasn’t able to let go Mart reached up and pried her fingers from the metal. He lowered her down and held her close. Only then did Di let loose the tears she had been holding back for what had seemed like hours.
Mart sank to a sitting position on the platform and cradled Di in his arms. He wondered how Jim dealt with these moments. How could he handle seeing Trixie, a girl that he cared about so deeply, get into situations like this? That was hard for him too, Trixie was his only sister, but when it was someone that he…that ‘L’ word scared him…but that was even worse in some ways.
Chapter Twelve
Estació del Nord
Valencia
14 marzo
16’45 horasTrixie reached up and took the suitcase Dan handed her and added it to the stack next to her. Finally, they had arrived in Valencia and any minute they would see Juliana. As excited as she was to see Juliana, Hans and their little girl, Trixie really just wanted to sit down and sort through the day’s events. It was hard for her to believe that less than twelve hours ago she had started her day with an emotional conversation with Jim.
"Hey Trix, where’s the rest of the gang?" Dan asked as he hopped out of the train with the last suitcase to join her.
"Honey and Mart took Di over to sit on a bench. She’s still pretty shaken up. Jim and Brian went to go get a cart or something for the bags and to see if they can find Juliana or Hans anywhere." She tossed him a lopsided grin, "So, what do you think of our ‘nice relaxing vacation’ ?"
Shoving some of the suitcases out of the path of a family walking by Dan responded, "Well, it seems to be running true to form for a Bob-White vacation. We haven’t had anything like this for a long time." In a teasing tone he continued. "And everyone thinks that you and Honey have outgrown the ‘detectivating’ – I think you’ve just been saving it all up for another international crime busting extravaganza."
Trying to answer back in the same tone Trixie said, "Yeah, that’s it. You’ve got us all figured out buster, just don’t blow our cover."
Dan looked at Trixie closely. There was something in her voice that didn’t seem quite right. Before he could probe into that, Jim and Brian came up to them with a cart.
"This thing drives about like the taxi drivers," Brian grumbled good-naturedly as he struggled to keep the three-wheeled cart from mowing down innocent bystanders. "Hopefully it will obey commands better once it has some weight on it."
"Any sign of Juliana or Hans?" Trixie asked Jim.
"No, I didn’t see them, but there are hundreds of people running around in here. I think we should just go sit with the others. The station isn’t so big that she’ll never be able to find seven very obvious looking American tourists."
"What? You mean it’s obvious that we’re not Spanish?" Dan joked. "And here I thought we were blending in so well. We’ve made so many new friends."
Jim laughed. "Yeah, if we make any more friends like that, they’ll probably put a hold on all of our passports and never let any of us out of the country again."
"Mart, do you see that guy over there?"
"Which guy, Honey? There’s only a million guys here."
"That one, Mart, with the cell phone leaning against the wall."
"Well, Miss Wheeler, that’s narrowed it down to maybe half a million guys."
Trying hard not to lose her patience Honey replied evenly, "The one that is staring right at us as he is talking. He looks kind of foreign."
Mart looked up and started to laugh, then stopped so not to disturb Diana who was resting against his shoulder. "Uh, Honey, a lot of people look foreign here, we’re in a FOREIGN country. Though to all of them we probably look rather foreign because to them this isn’t a foreign country…"
"Oh, Mart, shut up! You know what I mean! He just gives me a strange feeling…kind of how I felt whenever that jerk of a step-father of Jim’s would pop out of the woodwork. Oh, he’s noticed that we’ve noticed him and he’s leaving. I wonder…"
Now it was Mart’s turn to interrupt. "Oh, no…the Schoolgirl Shamus badge is coming out and getting polished up. I thought that you and Trixie had gotten rid of those things for good."
Before Honey could think of a proper retort, the other four Bob-Whites joined them with the luggage.
"Sergio, what happened? The Barcelona train just arrived and I see our little friends. Did you get that disc or do I need to take care of things?" Arabe leaned against the cool stone wall of the train station watching Mart and Honey lead Di to a bench and all three sit down with great sighs of relief.
"There was a slight problem, but nothing to worry about. I got the backpack. There are several CDs in it and I saw the U2 album so the mission is complete. I will meet you here in an hour." Sergio was crouched down in an alley in Sagunto. There were police wandering the streets looking for him. The conductor had reported the attempted kidnapping and robbery when they had stopped in Sagunto. He hadn’t hurt anyone. If that americana had been hurt it was her own fault. What was she trying to do, pulling a stunt like that? And big deal, he had stolen a backpack. That happened all the time. He knew that come five o’clock the police would call off the search and go find a bar to watch the fútbol game – Valencia was playing Real Madrid and it was supposed to be a good game.
"So you don’t want me to follow them or anything?" Arabe couldn’t believe that it was over as simple as that. These Spaniards! What if, for some reason, the disc wasn’t in that silly pack. If he didn’t trail the Americans to wherever they were staying, the disc could be lost.
"That won’t be necessary. The disc must be in the pack." Sergio felt so confident in his escape from the train that nothing, not Arabe’s pessimism nor his own aches and bruises from the fall he had taken could change that.
"Check it now, why don’t you? I’ve got nothing better to do than sit here and wait." Arabe was watching the trio of Americans in the waiting area. He wondered where the other four were.
"Sweatshirt, papers, books, CDs…looks like he took out his pasaporte; wonder why he did that."
Arabe could here Sergio rustling around in the pack. He could also here the street sounds that were so common in Spain in the background - kids yelling back and forth and the roar of the motos.
"I know I saw the U2 case here…where is it?"
"Like I would know, Sergio, this isn’t a videophone."
"¡Cállate!"
Arabe realized that the Americans had seen him staring at them and were looking back at him with gazes just as intent.
"Arabe…dios mio…it’s…"
"Sorry, Sergio, they’ve spotted me. I’ll call you later." Arabe clicked off his phone and headed out of the station.
Sergio sank to the ground and dropped his phone beside him. In his left hand he held the case that he had been searching for. It was a U2 case; exactly what Bernard had described to him. Just one problem – it was empty.
"Juliana should be here any…" Jim’s sentence was broken off by a cheerful cry from Honey.
"Juliana! Juliana over here! There she is Jim!"
Jim smiled with delight as he saw his petite cousin run across the crowded station to reach their group. It had been almost three years since he had last seen her. That had also been their first meeting. Neither had known of the other’s existence being as both had been orphaned as children. After recovering from a car accident orchestrated by Jim’s step-father, Juliana had married and returned to Holland with her husband. A year after they had been married, Hans had taken a job with the Dutch embassy and been sent to Spain. Shortly after that their daughter, Betje, had been born.
Grabbing her tall cousin in a huge bear hug, Juliana said, "It is so good to see all of the Bob-Whites once again!" Smiling at Dan she added, "I was so hoping that you wouldn’t get left behind this time Dan. No one should miss out on the fallas of Valencia."
"Thanks, Juliana. There’s no way that I would have missed out on a trip to Spain." Dan returned her smile, "Where’s Hans? And your little girl?"
"We had planned on all meeting you, of course, but Betje decided that she was going to take a late siesta and fell asleep about thirty minutes ago. So Hans and I flipped a coin to see who got to stay at home and," with a smug smile she added, "I won and he got to baby-sit."
After quick hugs to all the rest of the group Juliana reached for a suitcase and said, "Let’s load up. You don’t want to spend your vacation in the train station…it’s not all that exciting." She turned to Honey and Trixie, "What am I saying! Anywhere with you guys is exciting! Any mysteries on the trip out?"
There was a brief pause as everyone waited for someone else to answer Juliana’s question. They had decided after leaving Sagunto that they would wait to say anything to Juliana and Hans until later after they had discussed all that had happened since their arrival. They didn’t want to worry the young couple about something that could easily be a case of mistaken identity and a bunch of coincidences.
Looking to her cousin Juliana queried, "Have I said the wrong thing? Are you guys involved in something?"
Before Jim could respond, Brian broke in, "You haven’t said anything wrong, Juliana. Of course we’ve had some adventures…it wouldn’t be a vacation with the Bob-Whites if we hadn’t had some excitement. We’ll tell you and Hans all about it later. I think jet lag is hitting all of us so loading up sounds like a great plan right now."
The rest of the group snapped out of their reveries and started to grab suitcases and backpacks and follow Juliana out of the station. As they wove through the crowd Honey noticed the same man she had seen earlier watching them from a secluded corner.
"Trix! Look at the guy over there."
Trixie dropped back and pretended to be checking the locks on her suitcase. "Which guy, Honey?"
"The one in that shadowy corner past the ticket counter. He’s got a baseball cap of some kind pulled low on his forehead."
"Yeah, what about him?" The man didn’t look familiar to Trixie, but he gave her the same kind of creepy feeling that the man on the train did.
"He was watching us earlier, while you and Dan were unloading the luggage. He stared at us for a long time and he was talking on the phone. When he realized that I was staring back at him he took off. He gives me the creeps!" Honey shuddered with her last remark.
"Me too. I don’t want to be messing with him any more than I ever want to see the dude from the train again."
Before Honey could respond, Brian came hurrying back to them. "Come on you two, after all that has happened today, the last thing we need is to loose you in the train station."
"Right you are big brother. We are coming. But first, check out that guy in the corner." Trixie motioned with her head to the corner where the man had been standing.
"What man, Trix? There’s no one there."
Both girls looked and saw that Brian was right. The man that had been watching them was no longer there; the corner was empty. Looking at each other the girls shrugged. "We’ll add it to all we need to discuss tonight," Honey decided as they headed to the exit with Brian. "He could just be another piece of whatever puzzle we’ve been handed this time."
The threesome arrived outside just in time to hear Juliana explain about the vehicle they would be using.
"It’s a large teal colored van. Our little Swing wouldn’t be large enough for even one more person. We had thought about renting a minivan for the time you guys would be here, but they are almost impossible to find. Luckily Hans works with a man that has a van. He offered to lend it to us for this week. This man has six or seven kids, I can’t remember exactly how many. Several of them are going to Madrid for some church conference this week so they can get by with a smaller car. So we just traded."
The American group hurried to keep up with her as they left the station and started to cross a large street.
"I was lucky to find an above ground parking spot right near the station. Parking is almost as hard to find here as minivans are." Waving her hand behind her to the right she added, "That circular stone structure there is the plaza de toros…the bullring. If you are interested in going to a bullfight tickets shouldn’t be too hard to get. They have several during fallas."
"Bullfight? I don’t know about that," Di was beginning to recover from her experience on the train, but she didn’t think that she would ever feel like going to see a bunch of bulls slaughtered.
"I know what you are thinking, Di. When Hans first suggested that we go to one last year I was horrified." Juliana shook her head, "I still can’t believe that I went. It was actually kind of interesting. Okay, here we are – the Mambomobile."
"Excuse me, the what?" Mart looked at Juliana like she had announced that they were going to travel by spaceship.
"Mambomobile," she repeated as she unlocked the door to a large teal colored van. "The people that own it are originally from Africa. Their last name is Mambo. Some American friends of theirs started calling it that and it stuck. Kind of cute isn’t it?"
"I guess. Just not exactly what I was expecting to hear."
After all the luggage was loaded and the seven tired Bob-Whites had buckled themselves in, Juliana started the engine and eased her way out into the traffic zipping by. "I won’t even try to be a tour guide right now, I know how tired you must be. I’ll just tell you that we are leaving the center of the city right now and we’ll cross the river to get to the other side of the city, which is where we live. Our street is Aben Al Abar. It will take us about twenty minutes to get there with traffic so just sit back and relax. Oh, yes, and officially let me welcome you to Spain and Valencia…bienvenidos."
Many, many thanks to Laurie for her help on the Sagrada Familia. I couldn’t have completed this chapter without her. Also thanks to my editors. In the next chapter, the BWGs will finally make it to Valencia. And is anyone curious about Brian? Do you want major explanations or just more hints?
* English Translations (word from Zap: Beth made very nice footnotes, but they disappeared when converted into html. Sorry, Beth.)
1. Sergio? It is I, Pablo. They are here. All seven
2. Good. Don’t let them leave unless you have the redhead’s backpack. Do you understand me? If you fail in this, I will kill you with my own hands.
3. Pablo, do you hear me? I will send Pedro to the cathedral also. You will probably need help.
4. But, Sergio, I can do it. I don’t need anyone’s help. I will be a beggar in front of the cathedral and I will grab the backpack when they enter. Everything like we planned early this morning.
5. No. I don’t have confidence in you.
6. Pedro has already left. Don’t you do anything crazy. If we lose it, you will pay.
7. Mary, bless me with success this time…
8. ostras actually means ‘oysters’ and is used like darn or heck is used in english instead of the actual swear word. I can’t bring myself to type the real swear words…my conscience is still bothering me about the dios mio I used earlier…
9. the mili is the military service…every spanish male serves a mandatory 9 months to a year in the military in different parts of the country
10. I am Pablo Prat! Sergio, I died for the cause.
11. This is my brother! My little brother!