An Absence of Light

“Not so. Last year nearly twelve hundred tons of cocaine was shipped out of Colombia. A very good year, a record year. Where is it going if the consumption rate is declining in the U.S.? Well, a lot of people don’t believe it is declining. But even if it is, it’s not declining much, and besides that in the past five years the cartels’ expansion plans have paid off and their distribution routes have now established a solid footing in Europe and Japan. The rest of the world is going to become what the U.S. was in the sixties, seventies, and eighties. But don’t think that leaves the U.S. in a backwater situation. Heroin is making a comeback… all over the world. Big time. The point is, the trade is not going away. If it’s not cocaine in some form or heroin in some form, it’s going to be the synthetics. A world of synthetics. It’s only going to get bigger.”

Kalatis paused to enjoy his cigar a moment It was a testimony to his abilities as a raconteur that the guest did not take advantage of this hiatus. In the gloam of the veranda Kalatis’s powerful figure was a dusky presence that presided ceremoniously over the occasion of this meeting. Presenting his strong profile to his guest, he looked toward the Gulf of Mexico and nurtured his Cohiba in silence while Jael appeared, barefoot and wearing something gauzy which afforded the guest a diaphanous profile of quite another sort, and replaced their drinks with fresh ones.

“Now, at this point I should mention the European opportunities,” Kalatis said as he reached out and picked up his fresh Cuba Libre and sat back again, resting the cold drink on the broad arm of his wicker chair.

“There are wonderful investment opportunities there now, too, primarily in heroin and morphine base. The Europeans are acting as if they had just discovered candy, consuming three to four tons per month. Street value consumption is approaching two billion dollars a month there now, and we expect enormous growth as the borders between the countries are relaxed. The poppy crops are grown primarily in Afghanistan and Pakistan. As with the South American situation, the opportunities for us are in transhipping. The war in the Balkans has disrupted our usual overland routes, so now, for the most part, we are using ships. Ships also allow us to regularly move from one to three tons at a time. Typically our freighters leave the port of Karachi, Pakistan, and onload at sea very near the Iran-Pakistan border. The freighters cross the Arabian Sea, go up through the Red Sea, and into the Mediterranean.”

A pause for a sip of rum, a tug on the Cohiba.

“At this point we listen very closely to what our counterintelligence people tell us. According to their recommendations we sometimes offload in Turkish ports, sometimes Creek ones. Other times it is best to go straight up the Adriatic to the Italian ports. Brindisi, Bari, Acona, Trieste. A good part of our investment goes to intelligence. This is a business. No one wants to lose money. We plan carefully, very carefully. As a result, our seizure rate is… zero.

“Of course, there are other European route investments too, but they involve relationships with the overlords of Istanbul’s organized crime community, while others involve relationships with the Kurdish separatist rebels in Eastern Turkey. Right now our intelligence cautions us about these groups. The returns are greater-fewer parties involved-but the risks are higher because of the volatile political situations in which these people are currently involved.”

Kalatis paused again. He knew his face was in the shadow so he took some time to regard his guest The man was mesmerized. Kalatis knew he liked to hear about the security, the intelligence behind these operations. He didn’t blame him. The drug business had long ago discovered the value of intelligence and counterintelligence, and they had developed it to a remarkably sophisticated degree. But Kalatis had taken his intelligence program well beyond the operational level. His intelligence capabilities were strategic. He was far ahead of the curve in that regard, and because of that his record was impeccable.

The guest waited for Kalatis to refresh himself with his tobacco and rum. If he had been anxious when he had arrived, the rum had settled him down. He felt no need to assert himself. And that was as it should be. He had come to listen to Kalatis.