Free Ask Not For Whom The Panther Prowls by Astor James Monroe Page B

can leave when we want to.”
    I guided them to the elevators and onto the
sixth floor, then left them with the director of graduate studies.
In the meantime, I called Laura.
    “Will, what is it?”
    “Do you know who works immigration?”
    “I might, why?”
    “I ran into two Bengali girls, like the ones we
met in Miami. They're working as maids in Buckhead.”
    “So what. Lot's of people work as maids.”
    “I don't think they're here legally. Their
employer held their passports and -”
    “Wait. How did you run into them?”
    “They were asking directions to the Physics
office. They wanted to apply to the graduate program.”
    “And you just happened to be there?”
    “I was returning from class. You know how the
streets get then. They were completely lost.”
    “OK, so what do you want me to do about it?”
    “Arthur's not going to want me to follow them,
but is there someone Federal who can? They're in Dr. Stott's office
right now.”
    “Get their address and passport information if
you can. Fax it to me.”
    “Laura, you're a lifesaver. I'll do that.”
    I returned to Dr. Stott's office and they were
still discussing their options. I knocked on the door and joined
the conversation. “You know,” I added, “it would be helpful if we
had a copy of your passport and address. I'll make it while you're
talking.”
    They reluctantly gave me the information, and I
quickly copied the documents. Since the copier was also a scanner,
sending a copy to Laura was a matter of a quick second pass through
the machine.
    2
    That afternoon I was on my way to my car in
G-deck to go pick up Danny from school. He was a bit clingy of
late. It was not surprising, first a favorite teacher, then his
mother, and finally this interloper who married his mother were all
struck down with poison. Not to mention being abducted by his
father and then rescued from a gunfight. It was enough to make
anyone clingy. It must have been Hell for a six, almost seven year
old.
    Unfortunately, it wasn't over for him. I was
interrupted as I pulled my keys out to open my car. A burly
Hispanic gentleman asked me to follow him into a van. The small but
decidedly powerful handgun he pointed in my general direction was a
decisive argument in his favor. He gave me a quick, but thorough
frisking. He took my cell and my keys. Then he told me to enter the
vehicle.
    Danny was inside. His eyes were wide with fear
and he was quietly sitting there. My host told the driver
“ Vamonos! ” and then settled in to inspect
the cargo. It was not the most pleasant of car rides. I
asked if I could sit next to Danny. The man thought for a few
moments and said, “Stay where you are.”
    The van drove for what seemed forever, but was
in reality little more than a half and hour. I heard the exchange
as they exchanged greetings with the guard at a gated community,
but given the implied threat from the gentleman with the pistol,
kept quiet. It wouldn't have mattered, in any case, they were used
to chattering anonymous cargo. Although it was usually female.
    We pulled into a garage. I heard the door shut
behind us and then we were told to get out. The van, an old and
non-descript Ford Econvan painted in a mixture of faded green and
rust was incongruous sitting next to the jet-black highly polished
BMW on one side and the Jaguar on the other.
    They pointed toward a door in the back of the
garage. I picked up Danny, this time they didn't object, and we
entered the dim bowels of the building.
    3
    Danny and I ended up in a small windowless room
in the basement. He looked at me and said, “Will, are you
scared?”
    “A little.” I lied.
    “I'm scared, a lot.”
    “Danny, I'm not sure how, but we will get out of
this.” Telling him that if they meant to kill us they'd have done
it by now wasn't likely to be reassuring. Besides, they could have
plans that needed us alive for a short time. After that they'd
dispose of the evidence.
    “I need to pee.” I banged on the door,