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# 14-00000have appointments and thuse prople don't have any idea where we are. Why can't you let us make at least one phone call?"Morales has shed his melancholy and alipped into a new person He is eager. "You're right," he says, "I'll call them. Anyody you want, Tell me who your appointments are with." He pulls out a pen ina Hash. Branch blinks. He is startled by low fast Morales moves and how fiercely he snaps the point down.The reporters glance knowingly at each other. They share a vision of Morales hauling their contacts down to DISIP's welcome wagon. We're not that dumb, they think.Inclán tells Morales to call her editor at The Miami News, a safe, serious cail. Mores speils out the name letter by letter as he writes on his napkin like a schoolboy taking down his home work. He is putting on a show. He looks at Branch."Tell Orlando Bosch it doesn't look as if I'll be able to make it this trip,' Branch says, "He's in the DISIP pris-on.":The reporters giggle, but Morales deadpans. "T-e-1-1 O-r-l-a-in-d-o B-o-s-h...""You've spelled Bosch wrong," says Inclán. "It's R-o-s-c-h.""I'm sorry," says Morales,Morales keeps writing. "You are a funny one," he says jovially. He looks up. "Anybody else?""Yes," says Branch, He has been trying to think of one of his contacts in Venezuela who would not be vul-nerable to Morales but whose clout might impress him. Any name is a risk, but he decides to take one. "Tell the governor of Caracas that I won't be able to see him. His name is Diego Arias. Do you know him?".Branch studies Morales for a reac tion, but there is none.After breakfast, as the procession goes by a pay phone, Inclan suddenly an-nounces, "I'd like to make one call to the American Embassy." She breaks step and marches toward it, the first sign of overt resistance. Morales freezes Branch and Rothchild with a malicious glance and walks with her, shaking his head. Support goons appear from around corners: They seent re-Jaxed. Morales fingers his walkie-talkie. Inclán gets to the phone and starts fumbling for Venezuelan change and her phone numbers. Morales leans up against the wall near the phone. He looks amused. His body seems to twitch a little under his suit, as if he might need some exercise.Branch and Rothchild keep telling themselves that Inclán is making a futile gesture, but they admire her. "She's got more guts than we do," whispers Rothchild.Branch and Rothchild watch her lift the phone from the cradle, but they don't think she has the change or the number. She is nervous. She looks Morales in the face, which is probably a inistake. He stares at her, shakes his head, and hangs up the phone gently.Aa hour later, Morales suddenly mobriizes his entire otice. Some c' his men grab the reporters' suitcases and vanish. Others take off for unknown destinations. The rest fall in around the wirtere and Morales leads them briskly out the door.Rothchild figures they have just enough time to make the ten am. flight to Miami that he had seen posted en a board some time earlier. He senses an end coming and feels some relief. But when the entourage emerges on the air-port's main concourse, Morales turns toward the exit into Caracas, not toward the planes."I thought you were putting us on the plane," says Branch. "Where are we going?""To the other, airport," says Mo-rales. His mind is elsewhere."What happens if we make a fuss when you put us on the plane?" Inclán asks. "What then?"Morales' face is taut but breaks into a tour-guide smile. "You will either leave Venezuela nice and happy, or..." He pauses. "Or you will leave nice and happy." He delivers the last line with a lilt, as if making a rhyme. the reporters absorb the menacing smile and fall silent.Several cars screech up to the curb. Once loaded, they take off at the usual torrid páce. Branch feels panic open-ing trapdoors under his lungs and he Jeans over to Rothchild. "Holy shit, John," he whispers. "I don't think there is another airport in Caracas."After racing a quarter mile down the road, the cars turn abruptly into a parking lot. The reporters are baffled by the rush and the short trip but re-lieved to be staying near the airport,They figure they are headed for a plane from a different direction, but Morales leads them through another maze of corridors and into a new hold-ing room. It has a big waiting area with two rooms partitioned off on the side. The doors are metal with no handles. They lock from both sides.Morales vanishes, leaving Kómulo and El Largo in charge. Rómulo's fingertips do push-ups on his desk while he looks on, stone-faced. Roth-child gets the impression that Rómulo likes to stare at blank walls more than at people. El Largo, who seems to be a notch above Rómulo in the pecking order, moves into one of the partitioned offices and stays almost continuously on the phone. He reminds the reporters of his presence from time to time by loudly sucking phlegm up his long spiny nose.After about ten minutes, Branch starts pacing away from Rómulo "Goddamn it," Branch spurts, "I don't think we know enough about Morales to make him do all this. He's going to a lot of trouble to seal us off from Venezuela, but it doesn't make sense that he would do it just because we know who he is.""Why not?" asks Inclán."Because," says Rothchild, "what we already know is going to come out any-way if he kicks us out of the country." "I think maybe Norales is anore....ied about what we might find out If we ever get out of his clutches," says Branch. "I think maybe it's the fact that this terrorists is organized internationally. Bosch moves around on illegal passports and has faner 'und-raising dinners with supposedly respect. able people in lots of countries, He's supported by at least part of a lot of governments. And this stutt looks cross-national-Cubans killing Chileans and so forth. Now look at how Venezuela fits in. It's kind of an entrepôt for ev-erybody on all sides. The povernment is in a real pickle. It has to get along with the military juntas that have tak-en over most of Latin America, and it zlso has to get along with Castro, This country is filled with left-wing Chilean exiles and right-wing Cuban exiles Letelier is buried here, which is a tilt to the left, but the people who helped conspire to kill him might well be right in the DISIP, which is full of Cubans like Morales. President Pérez [Carlos Andrés, of Venezuela) has got his own little Watergate here, because his own government is tangled up with both the terrorists and the anti-terrorists. This whole country is like a tinderbox. The government is making little ges. tures to both sides, trying to keep the lid on.""Okay," Branch continues, "Let's assume that Morales is not bootlegging us out of the country on his own. That seems stupid to me. Let's assume that at least the people in the interior ministry know what's going on. And let's assume they're afraid we'll get into the country and find a story that goes something like INTERNATIONAL TERRORIST ORGANIZATION HEADQUAR-TERED IN VENEZUELA. OPERATIVES MOST-LY CUBAN. EXILES WITH CIA AND FRI TIES. VENEZUELAN GOVERNMENT PLAYING BOTH SIDES. And we go on to say that Bosch has brought a lot of Latin governments around to his position, which is that it's better to trust each other than to trust the C.I.A. Now, what I'm saying is that a story like that would really screw up the Venezuelans, especially if it's fleshed opt. It's the last thing the government here needs right now.""So what side is Morales on?" asks Rothchild."I think he's on both sides," says Inclán."I think so, too," says Branch, "just like the government. Morales is in the underworld of both sides."Inclán thinks for a moment. "There's only one big problem," she says. "If they're so afraid of a story like that, why do they let other reporters stay and just throw us out? Why do they pick on us?""I don't know," Branch sighs. "I don't know much about the correspon-dents here. They're getting some stuff out, but my impression is that they cover nine countries and just fly in for the coups and earthquakes. That still doesn't make us so special. But maybe we are to Morales. We know him. He knows Hilda knows a lot about Bosch and Miami connections. He knows that I got pretty deeply into the C.LA. Cubans. Then he sees us with the prcontioved$