Once the pilot had turned off into the taxiway he gunned his engines again and bumped on past the terminal buildings towards the hangars beyond. This was not going to be a public arrival. The small jet rolled towards the gaping entrance of a large hangar, big enough to service a 707 but now empty. Into the hangar the jet went and the engines whined down to silence. Behind them the great doors were trundled shut and the passengers blinked into the darkness until the hangar lights came on. The plane’s door opened and an Air Force Colonel in full uniform looked in and saluted.
“Mr. Chvosta, Senorita Hortiguela, welcome to Paraguay. If you will come with me, please, the car is just outside.”
A wave of humid, hot air came in with him and the Major knew that he was home.
The Colonel led the way to the rear of the hangar and opened the small door there; bright sunlight burned in. Aurelia Hortiguela dug into her large purse and took out a pair of sunglasses and put them on. Then turned to the Major and pointed back to the plane. “Our baggage and the cases of samples — what of them?”
“They are being unloaded right now and will go with us to the Presidential Palace.”
“You are not going to force us to stand around in this heat, are you?”
“Of course not. Through here, if you please, the limousine is air conditioned. It will only take a few minutes.”
They went through the door into the middle of a military camp. Fully armed combat troops were on all sides, guns at the ready. Facing outwards. There were jeeps with pillar-mounted calibre 50’s, B.A.R. and Bren gunners, even guards on the hangar roof above them. An immensely long, black Cadillac with dark windows waited with its rear door open, flanked by four armored cars and a six-by-six army truck.
“Your security seems tight,” Chvosta said.
“Thank you,” the Colonel replied. “We wish to ensure the comfort of our guests. You will be more comfortable in the car, if you please.”
Chvosta went first, grunting and wheezing as he pulled his bulk into the back seat. The Colonel and the girl followed and de Laiglesia closed the door after them, then went back to supervise the unloading. The sweat was already beginning to soak into his clothes.
“Drop that and I will shoot you,” he called out angrily to the soldier who was pulling a heavy crate from the plane. The man stopped and looked down, fearfully, because it was not just an idle threat. The Major was well known for his short temper and ready gun. He would shoot his own men as easily as he would any Red revolutionary. The soldier stood, shivering, with the crate resting on the doorsill, until another soldier hurried to help him.
One by one the heavy sealed crates were removed from the jet and loaded into the truck. The two suitcases were put in on top of them and the Sergeant in charge of the squad saluted de Laiglesia.
“All loaded, Major. Will you signal the convoy?”
“Yes. Get your men into the truck.”
Motorcycle outriders with screaming sirens led the way, forcing the traffic to the sides of the road. Police were stationed at every crossroad to stop cars from entering, coming to attention and saluting as the convoy tore past. They did a steady sixty miles an hour down the highway and into Asuncion, slowing only to maneuver around the sharp turns in the narrow streets. Aurelia looked out of the window at the crowded filthy tenements that flashed past, but said nothing. Chvosta opened the bar set into the back of the seat just before him and poured for himself a large glass of water from the cut glass decanter. Almost as an afterthought he poured a half glass of malt Scotch and drained it as easily as he had the water. The short walk in the sun had sent the perspiration bursting from his pores and even de Laiglesia, never the most sensitive of men, twitched his nostrils at the rank odor.
The convoy tore on through the baking, sun-drenched and filthy streets. Past a park filled with dead trees, then up a drive they raced and through the ornate italianate iron gates of the National Palace, braking to stop before the steps at the entrance. The guard outside did not open the car doors until the heavy gates had slammed shut and one of the armored cars had parked across the entrance.
The Colonel slowly led the way up the impressive marble steps, into the building and down the length of the great hall. He stopped before the high doors there, guarded by two armed soldiers standing stiffly at attention.
“Are vou ready to go in?” he asked.
“Of course,” Chvosta gasped, patting the perspiration from his face with a handkerchief. “I have not come this far to be left standing in the corridor. Let’s get it over with.”
“This is a most important and serious moment….”
“Only to you,” Aurelia broke in. “For us it is a simple business transaction. So get on with it.”
The Colonel turned away to conceal his anger while Major de Laiglesia made every effort to keep a straight face. He snapped his fingers at the soldiers. “Open up,” he ordered.
They passed through the doorway into the grand ballroom, an immensely long and ornate room bright with candelabra and hung with impressively bad paintings. At the far end, a group of uniformed men stood talking. One of them turned when they entered, a pudgy, pale-skinned man with numerous ribbons and decorations on his uniform. He smiled and stepped forward.
“You are highly honored,” de Laiglesia whispered. “His Excellency is coming forward in person to greet you.”
Walking heavily, President General Alfredo Stroessner came over to meet them. He smiled warmly. Yet, despite his full-dress uniform, the gold braid, the self-centered assurance, he looked like a bald-headed and pudgy son of a Bavarian immigrant. Which, of course, he was.
He was also absolute dictator of the country, with the power of life or death over his four million subjects. He seemed quite cheerful as he stepped forward to shake hands. He could afford to be.
“Sefior Chvosta, Senorita Hortiguela, bienvenidos al Paraguay,” he said.
“He welcomes us to the country,” Aurelia translated for her partner. Chvosta nodded but did not bother to grunt this time. He was sweating even more now after climbing the stairs to the palace.
After the few words of welcome, Stroessner turned to the uniformed group of men who were standing behind him and beckoned a gray-haired naval officer forward. His hair was cropped short, his dark skin marked by a fine network of wrinkles. His left arm was missing and the uniform sleeve turned up and secured at the shoulder.
“This is Admiral Marquez of the Uruguayan Navy,” Stroessner said. “Regretably, Dr. Mendez was not able to attend, but was kind enough to send the Admiral in his stead.”
They all nodded seriously as though no one knew that the ancient lawyer Mendez was only a figurehead for the ruling junta of admirals and generals. After a recent power struggle in Uruguay, Marquez had emerged on top, just as much a ruler in that country as Stroessner was in this one.
This display of absolute power appeared to make very little impression on Libor Chvosta, as though he spent every day of the week in the company of the rulers of two sovereign countries. He mopped at his wet forehead and neck with his large bandanna kerchief, then spoke.
“If we’re all here now we can get down to business,” he said, with all the grace and charm of a butcher in an abattoir. “If the cases have been opened I’ll show you what you are going to get.”
“They are ready in the other room,” Major de Laiglesia said to him, leaning forward and speaking in a low voice as Aurelia translated for the others what Chvosta had said.
“Take us there,” Chvosta ordered.
Major de Laiglesia whispered a few words in the Air Force Colonel’s ear and the Colonel nodded. There were some quick discussions of protocol among the uniformed aides, eventually resolved when Stroessner and Admiral Marquez, bowing politely to each other, decided to lead the way from the room together. The guards at the end of the hall opened the large double doors and stepped back.