by C. I. Lopez
Beware the Fury
by
C. I. Lopez
© C. I. Lopez - December 2019
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away. All rights reserved. This literary work may not be reproduced in whole or part, or transmitted in any form without the written permission of the author - an exception being short quotes in a review. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Disclaimer
Although this story takes place in Panama and mentions many towns which are real, the characters and the story are a work of fiction.
Similarities to any persons living or dead are coincidental.
Dedication
To Bryce, who’s been better to me than I’ve been to myself.
With eternal love and gratitude.
Acknowledgments
Bryce Kimberling, a fine man, photographer, artist, and constant companion, who has shared with me the happiest years of my adult life, and utterly different from any of the men in my story. Also, a contributor to some of the grittier passages in all my stories. The creator of my book covers.
My children, Carmen Marie, Christina Helene, Charles Martin, and Carrie Ruby, who are my constant inspiration for writing and the joy of my life.
Tom Benson, author and editor, for all the advice on structure and the moral support.
Lyne Arbour, an extraordinary friend, a generous contributor and reader.
Preface
PART ONE
Chapter 1 - Innocence
Chapter 2 - Love, or Lust?
Chapter 3 - Women and Wisdom
Chapter 4 - A Missing Person
Chapter 5 - Guilt
PART TWO
Chapter 1 - A Night in Shining Armor
Chapter 2 - Welcome to my Parlor
Chapter 3 - Oh … Baby
Chapter 4 - Vexations and Violence
Chapter 5 - Vindictiveness and Vulgarity
Chapter 6 - A Way Out
Chapter 7 - Tactics Training
Chapter 8 - Strategic Moves
PART THREE
Chapter 1 - Road Trips
Chapter 2 - Family Reunion
Chapter 3 - Banking on Something
Chapter 4 - Hell hath no Fury
Chapter 5 - Together at Last
PART FOUR
Chapter 1 - Opportunity Knocks
Chapter 2 - Vengeance is Mine
Chapter 3 - Body Count
Chapter 4 - Temporary Situations
Chapter 5 - A Box of Tricks
Chapter 6 - Boss Lady
Chapter 7 - Genesis
Epilogue
A word from the Author
About C. I. Lopez
Also by the Author
PREFACE
Panama
October 1993
Yasmin was huddled in the back seat of the taxi that her former nanny had summoned for her. The fifteen-year-old was assaulted by the smells of gasoline, stale cigarettes, and cheap perfume. Her legs were being pinched by the seat’s broken plastic cover.
The driver’s bald head bobbed along with some imaginary song as he descended the mountainous road, every pothole a test of shocks long past their expiration date. The mélange of smells and the ride over the uneven surface elicited all-too-familiar nausea in Yasmin. It was a harsh reminder of why she was leaving her little village and her pleasant life there.
It was a daily malaise that defined her existence lately, and she was so weary of it. If she could just be with Federico, everything would ….
Suddenly, the time for such pondering ended. The interior of the cab was briefly illuminated from behind, and Yasmin was slammed to the floor.
The frightened girl had no memory of the squealing tires or the sound of metal on metal as she dizzily emerged from an already open door. One headlight from a black Mercedes behind the taxi was eerily pointing into the trees, shining through the fog and smoke like the spotlights at the provincial fair. Yasmin instinctively followed the beam up, a gesture that sent her reeling backward and into the arms of the man who would change her world.
“Steady, young lady, are you all right?”
A dazed and disoriented Yasmin turned to confront the source of the voice. The blood flowing from the cut on her forehead made it challenging to focus, but she was able to see a tall, well-dressed man in a dark suit and an ingratiating smile. Before he uttered another word, Yasmin thought, everything’s going to be all right, this is someone I can trust. She would have collapsed with relief but for the steady grip of her mysterious benefactor.
“Let me take a look at that, you could have a concussion.” His soothing tone and gentle manner reaffirmed Yasmin’s trust.
As the stranger assessed Yasmin’s wound, Manuel Gomez, the cab driver, stepped into the light and was immediately assaulted with a barrage of invective that caused Yasmin to recoil in confusion. Her savior was Mr. Nice Man, no longer. The face reddened, and his soft voice became a hoarse bellow. The harshness of his words reduced poor Manuel to a wide-eyed, shivering old man barely able to stand.
A humbled Manuel quickly sidled back into the darkness; the man’s soothing voice returned as he turned to Yasmin. “Look at that sad excuse for a car. It’s not going anywhere tonight.” The man pulled out a sparkling white handkerchief for Yasmin to hold over her wound. “Tell you what ... I can take you to wherever you were headed tonight. The capital is only a few hours away, is that where you were headed? We can talk about getting my damaged headlight fixed on the way.” He then stepped aside to make a call on his car phone. “There, it’s done,” he said. “A truck will be along soon to take care of that wreck of a car.”
Yasmin had watched old Manuel’s face during the tongue lashing, and his eyes telegraphed a fear she had never seen before. It was a terror far exceeding what one would expect due to a harsh verbal scolding. In the shadows where Manuel stood, Yasmin noticed the cab driver looking at her and shaking his head. It was as if telling her, ‘no’ or trying to warn her of something, his eyes still bearing a terrified expression.
This caused Yasmin to take another look at the stranger as he made his offer. What would cause Manuel to react in such a manner? All she could see was kindness and concern. Where was the vulgar chameleon that had erupted just minutes ago? What was she getting into? Her questions and concerns were soon forgotten as she settled into the soft white leather of the German-built sedan. The faint aroma of new leather triggered fond memories of her father, while he was alive and working with the horses at Don Jose’s ranch. There would be no nausea on this trip.
*
As Manuel Gomez watched the red tail lights disappear into the black night, he knew his time on Earth could be measured in minutes. The moment Yasmin slipped into the other car; he knew he was a dead man. Manuel had immediately recognized Tomas, The Snake, Chacón, the universally feared drug lord. The ruthless boss of bosses. The Kingpin. Manuel knew The Snake left no witnesses. With a fatalistic effort, the old taxi driver tried to restart the cab. Still clinging to a sliver of hope, he managed to get the cab back on the road, minus lights and with a fender hanging loose. Checking in his rear-view mirror, he saw darkness. He wanted to get back to Ofelia and let her know what had happened when he heard the noise.
The sound of a loud un-muffled engine. It was Satan’s 18-wheeler, somewhere out there and moving fast. A stupefied Manuel gripped the steering wheel, waiting for the inevitable. Suddenly, a flash of lights and chrome and shiny red paint burst through the thick fog. The last thing Manuel saw before the deadly impact was the word PETERBILT.
The taxi’s rear-view filled with the brand name of the most popular North American built trailer truck, the steel logo prominently displayed on the hood of the
massive vehicle.
PART ONE
Chapter 1
Innocence
At the village where Yasmin had lived for the first fifteen years of her life, the entire population was preparing to celebrate the most important day of the year. It was a valley of incredible natural beauty where the jungle and rainforest blended and were adorned with an array of exotic birds and flowers. The mountains were regularly cloaked in clouds, decorated with dazzling rainbows. The picturesque village where Yasmin grew up with her mother and her sister Eva lay in the shadow of the majestic volcano called Baru.
In a modest farmhouse, Yasmin and Eva grew up like all girls in their village, happy and carefree, far from the pressures of big cities and under the protective cloak of family and friends. The two sisters had always shared the same bedroom, until they became teenagers, talking late into the night about their dreams in the way that sisters have always done. The festival brought the people of the village together in many ways. Still, it was of significant interest to the teenage girls and the boys who sought them.
There was much excitement in the Samudio household since Yasmin had reached the magical age of fifteen, and like many girls at that age, she was aware of her allure. The festivities this year included Yasmin’s participation in the folkloric dance in the town square, together with all the girls who had turned fifteen in the past twelve months. It was the local tradition that after a girl participated in the ‘coming of age’ celebration, she became eligible to be courted by the appropriate local young men. The teenagers would be allowed to enter into chaperoned courtships acceptable by their parents.
While the girls captivated the attention of the crowd, parents sat at tables observing, making deals, choices, exchanging arrangements for their children’s future. These would be encouraged but were not enforced if the young couples disagreed with the decisions, and the process of finding a suitable match for their children would begin again.
Yasmin’s body had matured well, with firm, plump breasts, rounded, shapely limbs, a creamy complexion, and captivating features. Her shock of mahogany brown hair was the envy of many of her peers. Underneath her long, heavy lashes, velvet green eyes with specks of gray flirted innocently as she danced. Yasmin’s soft and serene countenance was not lost on the local artisans. It was not a coincidence that the faces of the statues of the Virgin Mary they peddled during the festival this year bore a similar visage to Yasmin’s angelic face.
The young participants wore modest white dresses with hemlines that reached their knees. This was a subtle indication of their virginity and innocence, while brightly-colored satin ribbons were braided into their long dark hair, to accentuate their youth.
At seventeen, it had been two years since Eva, Yasmin’s sister, participated in the same festivities. Although she was a pretty girl, Eva’s charms were understated by her shy and quiet demeanor. She had danced gracefully and with enjoyment, but no immediate suitors resulted from her traditional ritual. Her mother, Narcisa, knew that Eva, unlike Yasmin, would be a late bloomer. Yasmin was too young to fully understand the power of her attraction. She was unaware of the perils of her innocent flirtations as she enjoyed watching men and women alike, appreciating her beauty.
Yasmin and Federico had planned to walk home after the festivities. The young couple wished to stay behind and stroll together. This was instead of Yasmin walking home with her sister after the festivities, as their mother had instructed. Federico planned to ask for the girl’s hand in marriage upon arrival at her house. Yasmin asked Eva if she would walk ahead with their other friends. Being alone without a chaperone was freedom neither of the young lovers had yet earned.
Eva reluctantly agreed to this plan, although it meant going against their mother’s explicit instructions not to leave Yasmin alone at any time. It would be the first time the two sisters hadn’t walked the trail together, hand in hand. Eva felt sad about her sister’s new independence, in spite of being accompanied by some of their mutual friends. The small group of girls who walked Eva home was already gossiping about how Yasmin danced, and how the young men looked at her.
“She’s going to get in trouble if anyone sees her walking home alone with her boyfriend,” Gloria said, her young features twisting into a sneer. Gloria, like many other girls in the village, was jealous of Yasmin, who already had a boyfriend and not just any boyfriend. Federico was the most handsome boy in town and the son of the wealthiest rancher in the province.
“Everyone knows that Federico is nothing but a well-dressed fool,” Carla chimed in, showing her own jealousy.
“A well-dressed fool? He’s one of the most eligible young men in this town!” Eva retorted, angry at the girls’ cruel comments about her sister and her dear friend, Federico.
“You mean he’s the wealthiest catch in town!” Carla responded.
“It’s not like we don’t know that your mother has had her needle in that stitch for a long time.”
“Shut up, all of you!” Eva was angry and in no mood for gossip. “Federico has been a friend of the family since we were babies.”
“Eva, you are always defending Federico and your sister. We all know that Federico hasn’t even asked for her hand in marriage yet, and they shouldn’t be alone together.”
Eva was tired of hearing her friends’ banter and was feeling remorse. She had disobeyed her mother’s explicit orders to stay with Yasmin all the time. Eva turned and ran back towards the church to find her sister.
Since childhood, Federico, Yasmin, and Eva had been inseparable, all three having grown-up together at Narcisa’s house after Federico’s mother’s untimely death. However, it was Federico and Yasmin who developed an attraction for each other. The pair had considered it an unwritten pledge that they would be joined together in marriage when they became of age. To this end, Federico told Yasmin of his plan to ask for her hand in marriage on the night of the Patron Saint’s Day celebration; her ‘coming of age’.
At the age of seventeen, Federico was seen by many as a fine and honorable young man, being the youngest person ever invited to join the town’s musical band. For weeks before the festivities of this year’s Patron Saint’s celebration, the young couple made plans for meeting after the concert. They’d agreed to see each other on the steps of the big church in the middle of town so they could walk the familiar trail together, perhaps sneaking their first kiss behind a tree.
Federico would not only ask for Yasmin’s mother, Narcisa’s approval to marry, but also his own father’s. Both elders would be delighted to bring their families together through their children.
Parental approval of Federico’s request and Yasmin’s acceptance, would allow the two young lovers to start their courting. This meant they would be allowed to spend time together for short periods without a chaperone. When their childhood friendship had taken a turn to a more intense type of attraction, neither Federico or Yasmin fully understood at the time. Their parents, however, noticed and agreed that it was time to regulate their children’s time together by creating more restrictions than they’d previously known.
*
Having been chosen to play in the town band at The Lion’s Club during the festival, Federico could barely concentrate on his music on this day. He was focused on seeing Yasmin after the concert. During the day’s festivities, Federico’s mind was consumed with thoughts of walking Yasmin home alone for the first time since they were children. The anticipation of sharing their first kiss filled his senses, even as he played his clarinet—making his music more passionate than ever before. As he played, he recalled their recent conversations had become increasingly intimate, while planning their innocent upcoming encounter. The young man could barely sit still as he played the National Anthem, the last song of the evening. His anxiety to be with his girl increased his desire to bolt out the door.
When the performance was over, the seventeen-year-old grabbed his clarinet bag with his music sheets, prepared to run out of the room before anyone stopped him. A
nticipation filled his heart with every move. As Federico was closing his clarinet bag, the church bells began their random chiming, which further provoked the urgency to be with Yasmin.
Due to the Patron Saint’s Day celebration being the most important festival in town, the bells rang unexpectedly at stages throughout the day and night. As the young clarinet player readied to dash out of the club’s auditorium, he was abruptly stopped in his tracks by strong hands falling upon his shoulders. This was in tandem with the tenor’s voice of the Mayor.
“Congratulations on your first concert, young man! Why the hurry to leave?” It was far from a subtle reminder. Tradition demanded that the boys of the band shared a drink at the cantina after the concert.
Upon feeling the Mayor’s touch, Federico attempted a futile excuse for his need to leave. His lips parted in his search for the appropriate words, but he produced only a meaningless stammer. Before he had time to refuse, the other band members rushed from behind, dragging him along with them to the cantina. He was further hampered by the continued firm grip of the Mayor, holding an arm draped around the young man’s shoulders in a genuine display of affection.
The Mayor was particularly proud to have such a talent in the town band. With a gesture familiar to the bartender, the dignitary gave his approval to serve alcohol to Federico, who was not yet of drinking age. Simultaneously the Mayor began an interminable speech of praise for the band and Federico in particular.
Federico’s mind meanwhile, filled with anxiety and a longing to run to Yasmin. He knew it would be rude to turn the Mayor away on such a momentous occasion.
An attractive bar girl brought the drinks, and Federico gulped his in one swallow. There was much cheering by his companions, impressed with the ease that Federico handled his first alcoholic drink. Unfamiliar with the strength of the brew, Federico felt the burn of the alcohol all the way to his stomach. The after-effect made him cough and sputter, much to the amusement of the group. Amidst the laughter of his band companions, Federico watched in horror as another round of drinks was ordered. To remain where he was and be toasted again would be his pioneer performance.
