The bartender saw her and came over, a surprised look on his face.“Nice to see you again,” he said.“Thanks.”“What’ll you have?”“A Panama,” she said.“Coming right up.”He turned back to her with the beer and set it down on the bar. “Anything else?”She leaned forward after glancing to either side. “I need to find someone who can help a friend of mine get to Colombia.”The bartender’s eyes narrowed. “There are plenty of flights. The ferry. Lots of options.”“He wants something more…private.”A loud voice to her right called for a rum and coke, and the bartender looked over and frowned. “Let me think about it.”When he came back a few minutes later, he had a slip of paper in his hand. “That’s the name of a bar in Portobelo. It’s about twenty miles east of Colón. It’s a rough place, but that’s where the captains hang out. Ask for Juan Diego. Tell him Paco sent you.” He studied her. “Did those two try anything?”She fought the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth and took a single sip of beer.
