131I told her to eat as sheNeeded it and I’d goSpying the neighbourhood.I told her to have faith thatFinally we would escape –In fact, I comfortedHer as much as I could.I left the room finallyWhen she’d managed to takeA little of what sheWas presented as food.I did believe my wordsOf encouragementDid very well helpTo lighten her mood.
132I slipped out, stepped intoThe passage, linked a tunnel,A warehouse and the stairs’Landing leading overground.The structure was built inA manner that every part didn’tRelease but hold back sound.I ignored the tunnel asIt was the route we wereSmuggled in and went inspectingThe unlit warehouse.(With my goggles, my eyesAre ever sharp, night or day;Wherever it hides – I couldStill locate the louse).
133I slipped through the metalDoor and the inside was packedWith drums from floor to ceiling.I then left and steppedOn the landing, followingThe stairs to surveyThe other parts of the building.The upper landing was hiddenIn a remote part ofThe mansion, initiallyDesigned as escape route.The drug baron’s country homeWas massive and occupiedHectares of land and wood.
134A high wall topped withRazor wire marked the boundariesOf the residence.With just one massiveMain gate, electronicallyControlled, securityWas tight and intense.Bulldog Winch was the mostWanted man by the United StatesAnd the security agenciesIn his native country.Everyone thought he was hidingIn the jungle but hereIn their midst he livedIn affluence and glory.
135I left the security postAnd the guard loungingOn an armchair, listeningTo a soft tune playingOn the radio.I went assessing the garageReplete with latest makesOf jeep – fromHummer to a Prado.As I peered throughThe rooms in the mansion,I saw in one a ladyWith dark rings round her eyes.Her kids played with the best toys:Living in affluence yetHer face told me sheWas still far from paradise.