Brazil (3 page)

‘But then there’s another Luiz, a younger kid who grew up in Santa Marta. He wasn’t such an upstanding citizen. In fact,
that
Luiz was arrested several times – fighting, breaking and entering, even a car theft.’

‘Hey!’ Luiz protested. ‘They couldn’t prove anything on the car thing. They dropped the case.’

‘Do you like cars, Luiz?’

Luiz shrugged, folding his arms obstinately. Jordan eyeballed him for a few seconds, then returned to his folder.

‘So I was wondering, what happened here? Have you really gone straight, or have you just got smarter?’

‘I don’t do that sort of thing any more,’ Luiz said. ‘I promised my sister.’

‘Ah, yes. Ana Alves.’ Returning to the filing cabinet, Jordan pulled out an identical brown folder. ‘There are no such skeletons in Ana’s closet. Studies hard at school, good grades, community work…’

‘She’s a good kid,’ Luiz said fiercely.

‘Undoubtedly. Which makes her arrest all the more inexplicable.’

Luiz paused.

‘Arrest?’ he said quietly. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Last night police apprehended Ana in a car outside the Borel
favela
. They found half a kilo of cocaine in the boot. She’s in custody now, on charges of drug possession and intent to supply.’

Luiz laughed incredulously. ‘You’re lying! Ana wouldn’t touch drugs!’

‘OK,’ Jordan said mildly.

‘I’m not listening to any more of this shit,’ Luiz said, getting groggily to his feet. ‘I’m out of here.’

‘I understand completely,’ Jordan replied smoothly. ‘Though, if you don’t believe me, you could always ask Ana yourself.’

He took out a slim mobile phone from his shirt pocket and tapped in a number. When a voice answered at the other end, Jordan wordlessly handed Luiz the mobile. The boy accepted it cautiously, handling the phone as though it were an unexploded bomb.

‘Hello?’ he said.

‘Luiz?’ a girl’s voice replied. It was his sister. Usually breezy and ebullient, right now Ana sounded young and frightened. Her voice was echoing loudly, giving the impression she was in a very large room.

‘Yeah – it’s me. Where are you?’

‘I don’t know… a police station somewhere, I think. Luiz, I’ve made a terrible mistake.’

Luiz’s heart sank as Ana’s words came out in a sudden flood.

‘I thought I needed a big story to impress the editors at
O Globo
, so I started digging around. There’s a guy at Sacred Heart who’s always boasting that he buys cocaine in the Borel
favela
, so I pretended to like him and we started hanging out. Last night we were supposed to be going to a party together, but just before we reached the warehouse he stopped the car and got out. He said he was only going to buy beer, but he didn’t come back. The next thing I knew there were police everywhere. I told them I was working on a newspaper story, but they wouldn’t listen to me. I didn’t know that there were drugs in the boot, Luiz, I swear.’ Ana suddenly paused. ‘How did you find out about me?’

Luiz glanced up at Jordan. ‘A friend told me. Look, are you OK?’

‘I guess,’ his sister replied. ‘But they say they’re going to charge me with drug dealing, that there’s going to be a big court case and I’m going to go to prison, and I don’t want to go to prison, Luiz. Mum and Dad are going to be so ashamed when they find out.’

With that, Ana broke into halting sobs.

‘Don’t worry about that now,’ Luiz said soothingly. ‘I’m going to do everything I can to sort this out.’

‘What can you do?’

‘I’m not sure yet. But there may be a way out of this. Don’t talk to Mum and Dad until I get back to you, OK?’

‘OK,’ sniffed Ana. ‘I’m sorry I dragged you into this. It’s all my fault.’

‘You are an
unbelievable
pain,’ Luiz agreed, trying to sound upbeat. ‘But then, you are my sister. I’ll speak to you soon, OK? Look after yourself.’

He ended the call and handed the phone back to Jordan, his head spinning.

‘So you were telling the truth,’ Luiz said. ‘Ana’s in trouble. What do I do now?’

‘What do you think you should do?’

‘I dunno – go home, I guess, and call my parents. They’re away at the moment, but they can get in touch with a lawyer.’

‘Good plan,’ said Jordan. ‘That sounds like a very sensible course of action.’

‘So I can just walk out of the door?’ Luiz asked suspiciously. ‘You’ll let me go?’

Jordan laughed. ‘Take the elevator down to the ground level. No one will stop you. You’re not a hostage.’ As Luiz made for the door, he called out, ‘Although, if you do speak to your parents, it means I won’t be able to free Ana.’

Luiz stopped in his tracks. ‘You can do that?’

‘Like I said,’ Jordan said calmly, ‘you can get anything you want – if you ask the right people.’

Luiz looked again around the neat office, bemused.

‘What sort of business
is
this?’

‘You’re sitting in the main office of Trojan Industries. Here at Trojan, our business is very specific. We are interested in one thing and one thing only.’

‘What’s that?’

Jordan took off his glasses. ‘Gangs,’ he said.

‘Gangs?’ echoed Luiz.

‘Trojan Industries is a shell, a facade. It pretends to be a multinational trading company, but in fact we’re a covert operation. Our mission is to travel from country to country, infiltrating and bringing down the most vicious gangs in the world.’

‘And you’ve come to Rio?’

Jordan gestured for Luiz to sit down again. ‘You’re a local boy. You know the deal. This is a beautiful city with a big problem: drugs. The drug market in Rio alone is worth around one hundred and fifty million dollars a year. That kind of money tends to attract the wrong sort of people, Luiz. Every day, gangs in the
favelas
fight and kill one another for the right to sell the drugs and to maintain control of their territories.’

None of this was news to Luiz. Baffled, he ran a hand across his forehead. ‘What’s this got to do with me and Ana?’

‘You ever heard of a gang called the Comando Negro?’

‘I guess,’ Luiz said, shrugging. ‘Saw that murder on the news the other day.’

‘That’s how they operate. Even by Rio’s standards, this is one seriously violent gang. Wherever the Comando Negro goes, death follows. To make matters worse, somehow they’ve secured a way of transporting large amounts of cocaine into Rio, and it’s good stuff. Now they’re making a killing – literally. At this rate, they’re going to become the biggest gang in the city.’

‘And you want to stop them?’

Jordan nodded. ‘Indeed I do. The problem is that nobody knows anything about them. They seem to have sprung up from nowhere, like some sort of killer virus. We’ve had snatches of information, but it’s mostly hearsay and rumour – and we need cold, hard facts. The only thing we know for sure about the Comando Negro is that they’re based in the Santa Marta
favela
.’ Jordan tapped Luiz’s file, his eyes narrowing. ‘Where you grew up.’

‘Wait a second,’ Luiz said, the truth slowly dawning upon him. ‘Are you saying you want me to go back to Santa Marta? And, what, spy on the Comando Negro?’

Jordan nodded deliberately.

Luiz laughed. ‘That’s crazy. You must be nuts.’

‘I’m perfectly sane,’ Jordan replied calmly. ‘And perfectly serious.’

‘Do you know what the gangs do to spies and informers? Haven’t you heard about the microwave?’

Jordan raised an inquisitive eyebrow. ‘Microwave?’

‘They cut off your arms and legs,’ said Luiz, ‘while you’re still alive. Then they cut off your head. Then they set fire to what’s left. You think I want that to happen to me? I’m not going to spy for you, man.’

‘I never said there wouldn’t be risks, Luiz,’ Jordan said seriously. ‘Outside the
favela
, Trojan can provide you with all the technical support you’ll need, but inside you’ll be on your own.’

‘And if I do this for you, you can get Ana out of custody?’

Jordan nodded.

‘How do I know you’re for real? Do it now. Get her out.’

‘Much as I’d like to help your sister right now, this is business. You don’t get anything for free, Luiz. But if you do agree to help us, we can arrange for her to be held in a cell on her own until your mission is complete. Give us the information that will bring down the Comando Negro and the charges against Ana will disappear.’

‘But what about school? Our parents? Someone’s going to find out what’s going on.’

‘Well, we know that your parents are in São Paulo for a fortnight, and we can organize things with your school so that the teachers don’t ask any questions about you missing class. After that, it’s up to you. Phone your parents whenever you want to. But remember, if you give the game away, I can promise you two things. One, you’ll never see me again; and two, your sister will end up doing some serious jail time. Do we have a deal?’

Luiz blew the air from his cheeks. ‘Doesn’t look like I’ve got much of a choice,’ he said finally.

‘There’s always a choice,’ Jordan replied softly.

He slipped the phone back into his pockets and pressed an intercom buzzer on the desk. A slim, elegant woman, her hair scraped back into a tight ponytail, walked into the office. She sized up Luiz in one efficient glance.

‘Luiz, this is Valerie Singer,’ said Jordan. ‘She’s head of Human Resources here at Trojan. She’ll fill you in on your mission details.’

‘Come on,’ the woman said crisply, in heavily accented English.

‘Where are we going?’

‘I’ll tell you on the way.’

As he trailed out of the office after Singer, Luiz looked back over his shoulder. Jordan was still watching him. And, for the first time since they had met, Luiz saw a shadow of concern in his eyes.

4. Crash Course

As Valerie called the elevator in the hallway outside, Luiz’s head was bursting with questions. There was so much to take in – too much, in fact. Part of him couldn’t help wondering whether this was all some kind of elaborate practical joke. Something about the woman’s brisk manner, however, told him that it was wise to keep his mouth shut for now. He stood in silence as the doors pinged open and the elevator purred down to the ground floor. There was no one in the large, marble-floored lobby – no receptionists behind the front desk, no security guards watching the doors. No one saw them leave.

Although it was early evening, the streets of Rio were still hot and humid. Luiz’s school shirt clung damply to his back and his head was groaning in protest from the blow it had received. Outside the front of the building, a sleek white Mercedes with tinted windows was waiting for them. Scanning the street, Valerie opened the rear passenger door and gestured for Luiz to climb in. As she followed him, Luiz was surprised to see a pistol holster poking out from beneath her suit jacket. He bit back another question.

As the Mercedes pulled away from the side of the road, the identity of the driver hidden behind a partition, Valerie pulled out a packet of cigarettes and lit one. Soon the back seat was filled with acrid smoke. Trying not to cough, Luiz looked out of the window and saw that they were heading north out of the city. A police checkpoint was looming up in the middle of the road ahead of them, manned by burly officers dressed in black with M16 rifles hanging threateningly from their sides. Such checkpoints were a regular sight in Rio, but as one of the policemen waved at the car to halt, this time Luiz had to restrain himself from banging on the windows and screaming for help. Whatever trouble he was in, Ana was in deeper, and if Trojan could help her Luiz needed to be strong. Holding his breath, he heard the driver of the Mercedes roll down his window and murmur something at the policeman, who immediately waved the car through the roadblock.

They continued north along the coastline in the direction of Santos Dumont Airport, the sky darkening as the sun dipped behind the mountains. The road grew quieter, more desolate. Eventually the Mercedes drew to a halt in front of a large warehouse in the middle of an industrial complex that was cordoned off from the public by high iron railings. A lone, plain-clothed man stood guard by the gate, beside a battered sign that read TROJAN INDUSTRIES LTD.

At first glance, everything looked shabby and run-down, but then Luiz noticed the high-tech security cameras on top of the gates, swivelling from side to side to maintain a constant vigil over the surrounding area. As the Mercedes approached, the gates opened automatically, and when Valerie wound down the window and flashed an identification card at the guard, Luiz saw that the man was armed. There was more going on here than met the eye.

The warehouse itself was isolated in the centre of a vast wasteland, a castle in a flat kingdom of concrete. The kind of place where no one would hear you scream, Luiz thought glumly to himself. The car drove round the side of the building, stopping by a reinforced-steel door. Valerie got out of the back seat and pressed her palm against a pad built into the wall. There was a beep, then the steel door opened. Pausing in the doorway to beckon at Luiz, Valerie entered the building. Warily, the boy followed her inside.

Luiz found himself in a giant, gloomy space illuminated by powerful spotlights that hung down from the ceiling. To his left was a makeshift office, where workstations with blinking computer screens were separated by low partitions. The technology looked sophisticated, out of place in such a decrepit building. At the far side of the building, beyond a thick glass screen, Luiz saw a row of narrow passageways side by side. At first, ridiculously, he thought they were bowling alleys. It was only when he spotted the human-shaped targets at the end that he realized he was looking at a firing range.

‘What
is
this place?’ breathed Luiz.

‘Trojan HQ,’ Valerie replied. ‘Until you go into the
favela
, this will be your home. You’ll sleep here, eat here and train here.’

‘Train? How long am I going to be here?’

‘We’re working on arranging a contact for you in the Comando Negro. You can’t just stroll up into the
favela
. It could take a week, could take a couple of hours. When the call comes, you’re going in. Here.’