Life Blood---XXII---Page No 74

I heard him grunt, whether from pain or frustration I couldn't be
sure. "Lou, listen, I'm going to try and phone you every day. If I
miss a day, then you should call the embassy down here. Tell
them you're FBI. That might get their attention. The place where I
am, where Sarah is, is named Baalum. It's a . . . kind of village. In
the northern Peten Department. I don't know if the U.S. has any
clout up here, but that's where they should come looking."
        I got him to write it down, and then eased him off the line as
gently as I could and hung up. I would have loved for him to be
here, but I wanted to try to get Sarah out by stealth if I could. And
stealth was scarcely Lou's style.

My calls were one for two, and there still wasn't anybody to help me. The time had come to try David. I was having the
glimmerings of a new strategy.

It was lunchtime in New York, but on Wednesdays he usually
just had a sandwich at his desk. Maybe I could catch him.
        "Hello," declared the British female voice he'd put on his
machine, hoping it would sound like he had a classy secretary.
"You've reached the office of David Roth, president of Applecore
Productions. We're sorry Mr. Roth is not available at this time to—"
        "David," I barked into the phone. "If you're there, pick up. This
is Morgan. I've got to talk to you."

While the announcement kept running, noises erupted out-

side in the hall, voices and a clicking sound, as though something was being rolled along the tile floor. Shit. Was Alex Goddard
about to walk in? My mouth went dry. Come on, David, I know
you're there, hiding—Variety with a tuna salad on rye, extra pickle. Dr. Brown's Cel-Ray soda.

"David damnit, pick up." I said it quieter this time, but I could
feel my heart pounding. "This is an emergency."
        "Morgy, don't!" He yelled as I heard the receiver being
lifted. "Jesus, I just walked in from the deli. Listen, thank God it's
you. Drop whatever the hell you're not doing and get your butt in
here. Jerry Reiner called, you know, the Orion distribution deal—
and he wants a rough cut of Baby Love yesterday so he can pitch
it to the suits on the fifth floor. We could be staring at financial
success here. I hope you can handle the vulgarity of that."
        "David, you're not going to believe where I am," I began,
working out my game plan as I went along, trying to sound cool
and control my racing pulse. "I'm in northern Guatemala, at a
place that would make a terrific feature. It's like a Maya theme
park, deep in the rain forest. But it's real. I want you to contact the

embassy and get them to grease the way for my crew to come here. This is too good to pass up." I thought about the costs and then added, "At least one camera and sound."

One sure way to get Sarah out was to blow the place open to the world.

"What's . . . where are you again?"

I gave him a glowing trailer of the Williamsburg-like qualities
of Baalum—a beautiful, exciting recreation of times gone by that
out-Disneyed Disney. The cable channels would be bidding for
the footage.

"Hey, look, all things in time." He wasn't buying. "I'm talking
an actual deal here. You know, money? Fuck the jungle
wonderland. You've got exactly one more day down there on the
Tarzan set, or wherever the hell it is, and then I'm gonna start
finishing final cut on this damned picture myself. Don't make me
have to do that, Morgy. This is not a drill. Nicky Russo came by
again yesterday. He's fully prepared to call our note and impound
your original negative. It's here, under lock and key, but we've got
to get this project in the can and sold."

"You touch a frame of my movie and I won't be responsible for
my actions." God, he was missing my SOS. "David do one thing
for me, please. I can't tell you how important it is. I haven't
explained everything. This situation is . . . It's very threatening. I
need you to at least call the embassy down here and see if they'll
send somebody. The Army's all over the place and—"
        A loud noise intervened followed by complete, absolute
silence. The diodes on the panel all began flashing yellow.
        "Shit!" Had Alex Goddard been listening in and decided to cut
me off before I could get word to the embassy?
        I slammed the box and went for the usual maneuver: I cut the
connection and tried again, but nothing. Again, and still nothing.
        My hands were trembling. I'd just lost contact with the outside
world. I was completely isolated in the middle of nowhere.
        How convenient. Alex Goddard let me tell a couple of people I
was physically okay, and then he blocked the line.
        I exhaled settled into the padded chair next to the computers,
and tried to think. David, David why wouldn't you listen? He was
so excited he'd completely ignored my distress signal. Nobody
was going to come and help me get out of here.
        I gazed around the room, wondering what to do next. Was
there another phone, a radio, a box of flares, for godsake?