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Chapter 94: Rafe's Arrival

Rafe Hernandez wiped the sweat from his brow.  It was early evening in Costa Blanca and, though it was not even summer, it was brutally hot.  He shoved past the beggars and prostitutes who rushed over to him, obviously assuming he was a rich American tourist.

They had that wrong on both counts.  He was not rich and not a tourist.  This trip was all business.

All of the information he had located on Anna DiMera directed him here, to this South American pit.  Costa Blanca was full of low-lifes and criminals.  No wonder this is where Anna had fled from Salem.

Rafe had to find this Calliope Jones Bradford.  She was the key to his entire plan.  Once he found her and put the squeeze on her, he would have a clear path to Anna.  She would talk.  He would make her talk.

From what he had heard, it should not be too difficult to locate the woman.  Some of his FBI friends had baited the hook -- offering Calliope an all-expenses paid trip to Costa Blanca -- and Rafe just had to catch the fish.  Now, assuming she had taken the bait as his friends had indicated, Rafe's informant would provide details on her exact location.

He debated checking into his hotel first, but decided against it.  The informant would be at the meeting place in 15 minutes and Rafe could not be late.  He flagged what passed for a taxi here, an old Fiat that probably had been considered a decent car in 1976, and gave the name of the bar where he would meet his contact.  He arrived with just a few minutes to spare.

The inside of the bar would have seemed like home to any American.  Neon signs for American beers were scattered about.  Two televisions were mounted above the bar, showing baseball games, and the center of the bar was dominated by a pool table.  Rafe ignored all of that, as he took a seat at a table near the door and told the barely-dressed waitress to bring whatever they had on draft.

Five minutes later, a man approached his table.  "You Hernandez?"  When Rafe nodded, the man sat down.  "I understand you want something from me."

"Yeah, I want to know where I can find this woman."  He showed the man a photo of Calliope.

"Ah, the crazy Americana.  I can show you where she is."

"Good," Rafe said.  "Let's go."

"You have not asked my price, señor."  The man smiled.

Rafe gave him a long look.  "Do you know the letters F-B-I?"

The man looked back, and Rafe was surprised that he did not seem particularly impressed.  "Si.  I also know they count for nothing in Costa Blanca."

Rafe grimaced, but pulled out his wallet.  He handed the man a $100 bill.  "That's all.  Now show me where she is."

The man pocketed the bill and stood up.  "Follow me."

As they headed to a waiting car, Rafe planned everything out in his head.  He had leverage over Calliope, by threatening her and her husband with prosecution in America.  With that, he would force Calliope to set up Anna and get her to admit her involvement in Sydney's kidnapping.  Then Rafe would bring Anna in and force her to tell him who she was working for.  And when he found out it was a DiMera, he would have everything he needed to bust that family and win Sami back.

If everything went according to plan, of course.  But, then, why wouldn't it?

Climbing into the car, Rafe allowed himself a sly smile.  He had no doubts that everything was going to go exactly according to plan.

Caught in his thoughts, Rafe did not notice another man who could have been mistaken for a rich American tourist.  That man got into a late-model Ford and began following Rafe and his informant.  As he drove, he placed a call on his cell phone and waited until the call was answered.

"Yeah, it's me.  Tell Mr. DiMera that Hernandez just arrived in Costa Blanca.  No, he hasn't seen us. . . . Yeah. . . . Tell him not to worry.  Everything's going exactly as planned."