Chapter 10: Welcome to Bogotá

February 1999

After we had gotten our luggage, we then had to go through the customs gate, which presented no problems. We just knew that there would be a conspiracy to have us stopped and arrested for some trumped-up charge of customs violation. To our surprise, the customs officer hardly paid us any attention at all. He barely looked through our luggage and passed us on as if he were under orders to do so. We saw our man in black talking to the customs official in charge, and at times looking back at us and smiling. I felt sure our friend in black had something to do with that.

After we got through that, no less than ten cab drivers that descended upon us as soon as we walked outside accosted us. What a mess! They were all speaking in Spanish dialects that I did not understand, and Lou was trying his best to arrange transportation to the US consulate. Lou picked the very last one. He said that if anyone were out to kidnap us, it would have been the first through the fifth cabs, but he felt that the tenth cab would have been much safer. The fact that I am here writing this is a testament to Lou’s good judgment. However, if we had waited for another twenty minutes, a bus would have been able to pick us up and would have dropped us off right across from the embassy.

Lou said that checking in with the US consulate here in Bogotá was the smart thing to do. Upon arriving there, guards led us to a waiting area, where the regional security officer met with us. He remembered my Internet e-mails, inquiring about the situation here in Colombia. To say the least, he was not happy to see me.

“Mr. Harris?” he asked as he shook my hand. “I’m Al Pohlitz, Regional Security Officer for the embassy here in Bogotá. I wish I could say welcome to Bogotá, but the situation requires me to tell you that I advise you to leave as soon as you can for your own safety. The country is virtually in a state of civil war. It has been for the better part of the last forty years. That doesn’t mean that we’ve all gotten used to it. The last five to eight years has shown the situation deteriorating badly. I cannot guarantee your safety outside these walls and neither can the Government of Colombia. Therefore, as my conscience also dictates, it is my duty to advise you to return home to the states. I have already learned that you arrived by cab. This was dangerous. Moreover, you should never take the public transportation. It’s easier to hide in public than to be in the back of a Columbian cab. That’s as good as giftwrapped!

Show me on this map where exactly where you are going and include your route. If you won’t go home, at least we will know where to come looking for you if you don’t return. We have many Americans who come down here and disappear without a trace.

You need to take this seriously!”

We showed Pohlitz where we were planning to go, and whom we would be staying with. We didn’t divulge any specific details of our mission. Maybe we should have, but then things might not have turned out as they did. Al Pohlitz looked at us and must have realized that we were both just a couple of lucky souls who seemed to have a ring of protection around them.

Lou spoke up. “Mr. Pohlitz, sir, I am Luis Martinez, detective with the Miami-Dade County Sheriff’s office.” He held up his badge for Pohlitz to see. “I am here investigating a crime, and quite possibly a homicide. This is our main reason for being here.