Life Blood ---XVIII---Page No--60

Let him wait. I wrote out a long note to Steve, on the chance he might come looking for me. Then with deliberate slowness, I wandered out to where Alan's Jeep was parked and tossed my backpack behind the seat.

"First things first." I climbed in and handed him the address of Ninos del Mundo I'd copied onto some hotel stationery. "This is where we've got to go."

He stared at it a moment, puzzling, and then seemed to figure out where it was.

"Upscale part of this beautiful oasis." He shifted into gear.

"But it's more or less on the way." He glanced up nervously at the sky. "We just don't have all day."

Off we headed toward the suburbs, through a ganglia of

downtown streets laced with pizza joints and frying-meat vendors, till we eventually ended up on a tree-lined avenue that looked as genteel as Oyster Bay. When we got to the address, I told him to park across the way, and just sat a moment staring.

The building itself was a windowless compound surrounded
by trees and a high wall of white stucco, with a guardhouse and
wide iron gate (not unusual for Guatemala) protecting a long
walkway. The whole thing looked like a fortress, except the view
through the gate was a pastoral vista of neat flower beds and a
pristine lawn. The guardhouse itself had a dozing teenager,
undoubtedly with an Uzi resting across his lap.
        "Okay, Alan," I said "time to get with the program. How's your
Spanish?"

"Depends on who I'm trying to BS." He shrugged and began cleaning his sunglasses again.

"Well, why don't you see if you can talk us past that guard."
        He stared at the entrance a moment. "Be a waste of our
 precious time. Tell you right now, kids like that only answer to one
boss, the jefe, the big guy, whoever he is. That's how they retain
their employment. A joint locked down this tight don't give Sunday
tours."

"Well, I think he's asleep. So I'm going to be creative and see if there's a back entrance of some kind. Maybe a service area that'll give me some idea of what's going on here."
        "Do what you want, but make it fast," he said, leaning back in
the seat. "And try not to get shot."

I carefully got out and walked down the empty street a way,

then followed the stucco wall/fence—the building covered an entire

city block—until I came across an alley entrance, with another large iron gate, padlocked shut.

I peered up the driveway, shrouded in overhanging trees, but there was nothing in the parking lot except a couple of Army
Jeeps. And a black Land Rover.

Well, Barry Morton really wanted me to see this. But why? Is there a connection to the place in the Peten? And what are the Army vehicles all about?

I sighed and made my way back to the street. When I reached the Jeep, Alan was gone, but then I realized he was over talking to the young guard, offering him a cigarette. A few moments later he waved good-bye and casually ambled back.

"Okay." He settled in and hit the ignition. "Here's the official

deal. This place is some kind of hospice for unwed mothers. They
also take in orphans, or so he thinks. According to him, no
American women have ever had anything to do with the place,
which is probably why I'd never heard of it." He glanced at me as
we sped off. "You happy now? Debriefing young Army dudes is a
specialty of mine, so I think that's probably the straight scoop."
        "Did you ask if it's connected with something in the Peten?" I
was still hoping. In any case, whatever it was, I was collecting
more pieces of the puzzle.

"Hey, give me a break." He shifted up, gaining speed. "I know
when to push, and this wasn't the precise moment. The kid was
itchy enough as it was. Like, who the fuck are you, gringo, and
what are you doing here? I got all I could get without a cold
cerveza." He glanced over. "You ask me, a little gratitude wouldn't
be entirely out of place."

"Okay. Muchas gracias, amigo. Happy now?" "Ecstatic."

The Jeep was open and I checked out the sky, which was

growing darker and more threatening by the minute. The

promised foul weather still seemed to be just that, promised but it
was definitely on the way. Alan Dupre must really be scared.
Finally I leaned back in the torn plastic seat and closed my eyes.
        Was this Ninos del Mundo the Latin branch of Children of
Light? The place where Alex Goddard's babies came from?
Considering the interest Colonel Ramos had in my movie, the
Army Jeeps could be a tip-off. Also, there seemed to be an even
chance that Barry Morton was involved somehow. But it was all
still guesswork. And anyway, this wasn't the place Sarah had put

on her landing card. That Ninos del Mundo was somewhere up north, hidden in the rain forest.

Ready or not, Sar, hang on.