THE BRIDGE TO CARACAS (Volume 1 of The King Trilogy)

CHAPTER 59

Servito smiled when he saw the north coast of Venezuela.

"Holy smoke!" Phillip exclaimed, straining to get a better view. "Look at those mountains, Dad. How high are they?"

"Six, maybe seven thousand feet."

"Are they in Venezuela?"

"Yup." Servito pointed to his left. "See those three large islands down there?" Phillip nodded.

"They're the ABC islands: Aruba, Bonaire, and Curacao. There's a large oil refinery on each one. Those refineries process the oil that's produced in Venezuela."

Seconds later, Servito's plane commenced its descent for its approach to the mountainside airport at La Guaira, a port city on the north coast of Venezuela. The airport had been sliced into the side of a mountain, high above the azure blue Caribbean Sea. The plane continued its descent to an altitude of one hundred feet and sped toward the runway.

Phillip pressed his nose and hands to the window, amazed and terrified that his father would try to land in such a precarious place. "Go back up, Dad!" he shouted. "We're going to fall into the water!"

"Relax, son," Servito said. "I've done this before. It's easy."

After clearing customs, the ease of which was facilitated greatly by a substantial cash donation to certain officials, Servito and Phillip took a taxi from La Guaira along a magnificently engineered highway that climbed abruptly from the lush green coastline to the height of the mountain range, over three thousand feet above sea level.

The taxi proceeded the five miles to Caracas, and then climbed a series of winding streets on the southern slope of the coastal mountains. When it appeared that the taxi had come to a dead end, it turned sharply to the right and into a long paved driveway, which was lined on both sides with tall royal palm trees. It stopped near the entrance to a magnificent and sprawling ranch-style mansion. Servito placed his hand on Phillip's shoulder. "Welcome to your new home, son."

"Can we go in?" Phillip asked, struggling to open the taxi door.

Servito depressed the door latch with his right hand and quickly opened the door with a sharp blow of his foot. "I'll be with you in a second," he said, and then turned to pay the driver as Phillip scampered to the front door. Servito joined his son with the key in hand. "Go on in, Phillip. Have a good look."

Phillip took several hesitant steps inside, and then stopped and stared at the south wall. It was constructed almost entirely of floor to ceiling windows and sliding glass doors. Beyond the glass wall was a large, sculptured swimming pool filled with inviting azure blue water. Beyond the pool was a black, wrought-iron railing that delineated the edge of a steep rocky cliff. The city of Caracas stretched beyond for miles until it disappeared into the horizon.

Anxious to move after being confined for the long plane ride, Phillip opened one of the sliding glass doors and proceeded onto the concrete patio surrounding the swimming pool. He was exhilarated to breathe the fresh air and feel the warmth of the late afternoon sun on his skin. He continued to the edge of the cliff and stopped at the railing, leaning over to study the rocky chasm more than three hundred feet below. To his right, he could see a yellow cable car climbing slowly toward the summit of Mount Avila, which was the mountain next to theirs.

"Come over here, son," Servito shouted. "I want you to meet some people."

Phillip turned to see his father standing outside the sliding glass door that led to the kitchen. With him were two women and one man. All three had light brown skin and black, shiny hair. Young, attractive, and generously endowed, the women wore black skirts with white blouses and white aprons. The man, on the other hand, was large and menacing. He wore black trousers and a black shirt, which was unbuttoned enough to show the mass of black hair on his chest. A four inch scar decorated his left cheek, while a large gold skull and cross-bones pendant dangled from a thick gold chain around his neck.

Phillip rounded the swimming pool and stopped about two feet away. His mouth opened involuntarily as he stared at the terrifying man standing next to his father.

"Son, this is Maria, and this is Carla. These lovely ladies are going to live with us. Maria's going to keep our house clean and Carla's going to cook our meals."

Phillip nodded while both women smiled politely.

Servito turned to the large man on his right. "This is Carlos. He's also going to live with us. He's here to protect us and keep us safe. He'll make sure nobody comes into our house without our permission." Servito returned to the house with an arm around the waists of his two female servants, his hands just beginning to raise their short skirts. Carlos folded his arms and watched silently as Phillip returned to the railing to look at the city once again.