Kings and Sinners

by Alta Hensley

  Being poor wasn’t ever something someone would voluntarily choose—well, unless you were some monk or religious person taking that vow—but he’d seen people who had nothing of true value but who had smiles on their faces and an acceptance that, while they had basically nothing more than the bare essentials, they had their lives and they had their families. However, here, as they drove through the tangle of streets, the people who even bothered to look up, to turn to follow the Jeep’s progress, bore far different expressions. He saw suspicion, which he accredited to the fact that he was most likely one of the few gringos to travel their streets, but what had him the most concerned was that the expression he saw on the face of every person, male or female, young or old, was hopelessness.

  “Paco,” Natalia said, drawing his attention to her. She glanced at him and then nodded towards a group of men up ahead. “You’re seeing first hand what the drugs have done to the people of my country.” She braked as a dog darted out in front of the Jeep as if totally unconcerned if he were hit or not. Hell, who could blame him. Every rib showed clearly, the dog’s patchy fur telling of mange. The poor cur would probably consider it a blessing to be put out of his misery.

  Once the Jeep began to roll again, Natalia continued. “Drugs are a billion-dollar business and yet these people, hell, even when they have two pesos of that money to rub together, they give it right back to buy paco.” She shook her head and turned yet another corner, going deeper into the neighborhood.

  “I was one of the lucky ones,” she said. “I never was subjected to the realities of the drugs that made my father a rich man. But the luck of the draw ensured that I had plenty to eat, a beautiful home, clothes fit for a princess and a future.” She turned to look at him again. “Your brother wasn’t so lucky.”

  Anson looked out the window again and shook his head, though the scenery hadn’t changed. “He might not have had the food, house, or the clothes, but he did have the one thing that gave him a future—though he might not have known it at the time.” He turned back to Natalia as he squeezed her fingers. “He had the love of a mother—one who was willing to sacrifice herself to ensure he was in school instead of working in the coca fields. You and Stryder have more in common than you think, despite the fact you were born on opposite sides of the tracks. Montez destroyed both your families and yet was unable to wipe them out. Instead, he gave two children—neither one yet in their teens—the determination to survive, to live, to fight against the very evil that has wrecked your country.”

  “And that was his biggest mistake,” Natalia said as she pulled the Jeep to the side of the street, coasting to a stop. “We’re here. Let’s see if your gut was right so those children can meet for the first time.”

  Anson climbed from the Jeep and looked around. They were no longer in the middle of what he could only call shacks; most dilapidated more than the house in the jungle they’d sheltered in. Instead, they were at the bottom of a hill, and from the stones serving as the last physical marker of a person’s very existence on Earth, and the small building he could see at the top, he knew she’d found the cemetery.

  Natalia joined him and took his hand.

  “Is that the church where your family was killed?”

  “No, that’s in another section, but maybe we can find the location of Stryder’s mother’s grave listed in some record in the chapel. Otherwise…” She shrugged, her eyes roving over the expanse before them. “It could take us hours to find it, and that’s if it’s even marked.”

  “Why wouldn’t it be?” Anson asked, thinking of the neat rows of headstones, the rising monoliths, the spread of angel wings, the various decorative crosses and the words chiseled in marble honoring a beloved person’s passing he was accustomed to seeing in the graveyards of Texas.

  When she hesitated, he suddenly understood. “The church wouldn’t want her buried on their sacred ground even though she was a woman of the faith, a good mother to her only child—all because life forced her into prostitution,” he said.

  Natalia nodded. “It’s not only unfair, but hypocritical. My family, who made no secret of their occupation, whose generous donations were basically blood money, were welcome to enjoy their final sleep on holy ground. It makes me feel ashamed…”

  “Don’t,” Anson said, squeezing her hand again. “I’ve never bought into the whole ‘our beliefs are the only correct ones’ ideology. I’ve met people of almost every religion and have never believed that God particularly cares what name man slaps onto their church. Nor do I think he discriminates or judges a person for doing what is necessary to survive. He knows the true person by their soul.”

  “That’s a beautiful thought. I knew you were a smart man, I just didn’t realize you were a theologian,” Natalia said.

  Anson smiled and shook his head. “I’m not really. I was just raised to question and come to my own conclusion, not to blindly follow like a lemming leaping over a cliff. Besides, when it comes right down to it, it doesn’t matter where a body is put to rest. Sacred or not, it’s all just dirt.”

  The sound of her laugh broke the tension, and she reached up to kiss his cheek. “Let’s go find Stryder.”

  They found the chapel, but no one appeared to direct them, and no book was lying around to be flipped through. “I’m sorry, I really thought there’d be some sort of, I don’t know, groundskeeper or somebody,” Natalia said.

  “Don’t worry,” Anson said, letting his eyes sweep over the terrain that spread out in all directions. “The less we interact with people, the better. Let’s just walk around.”

  “You really think that we’ll just get lucky and find her grave?”

  “No. I’m just positive that her son will find us.”

  The cemetery might not be the same as those back home, but Anson still felt the serenity of the place. They passed humble graves and yet saw proof that the resident wasn’t forgotten by the small bouquets or trinkets left by loved ones. They used common sense to locate a section that had been in existence for a couple of decades instead of wasting time on dirt recently turned or that where markers were barely discernible.

  “Anson?”

  Natalia’s tone caused Anson to put his hand behind him, ready to pull out the gun he’d tucked into his waistband before he looked to her, seeing her nod towards their left. Turning, he watched as a man stood up from where he’d been sitting in the shadow of a tree, his back against its trunk. Slipping his arm around her waist, he began to walk towards the man he’d never doubted would appear.

  “What the hell took you so long?” Stryder asked.

  “Didn’t want to interrupt your siesta,” Anson quipped. “Let me—”

  “No, let me,” Stryder countered, pulling Natalia out of Anson’s arm and into his. “You have no idea how good it is to see you.”

  Anson knew that the hug was exactly what Natalia needed to know that everything he’d been telling her about his brother and his family was the gospel truth, but still… “What am I, chopped liver?”

  Stryder chuckled, and Natalia was smiling when the two separated. Shaking his head, Stryder looked his brother over from head to toe. “Seriously, bro? A beautiful woman or your pale ass? And here I thought you were supposed to be the smart one of the group.”

  Anson rolled his eyes and grinned as the two men embraced tightly. Once they broke apart, Anson again reached for Natalia, drawing her close. His brother’s grin grew wider and at the simple nod of his head, Anson knew he was acknowledging that the two were a pair.

  “I can’t wait to hear what the hell happened to cause you two to drop off the face of the Earth, but I suggest we go somewhere else. Your appearance in Rosario has already been noticed. Where’s your Jeep?”

  “How do you know we are in a Jeep?” Natalia asked, her body stiffening in Anson’s hold.

  Stryder pulled a phone from his pocket. “I got a call about an hour ago, telling me you two are driving a blue Jeep and had asked for directions to Nuevo Alberdi. Hell, I even know
you bought water, chips and jerky.”

  “You paid the attendant at the gas station for information. Smart move.”

  “Yeah, him and a hell of a lot of others,” Stryder acknowledged. “The only problem is that with the bounty on your heads having been increasing daily, there’s a good chance I’m not the only one being informed.” He paused and looked between the two of them, and Anson felt his gut clench.

  “So what aren’t you telling us?” Anson asked. Stryder’s eyes darkened. Anson could sense the anger barely held in check, and yet knew he needed to know. “Spit it out.”

  “The sonofabitch has issued orders that while he doesn’t give a shit who takes out some gringo vaquero, he’ll personally execute anyone who harms a single hair on Natalia’s head.”

  “Why-why would he do that?” Natalia asked.

  Anson nodded, not really surprised. “Think about it. The woman who has supposedly been kept as his personal toy for months not only manages to escape but takes the time to break his nose and crush his family jewels? As worthless as those jewels are, I guarantee that’s not something that’s gonna fail to tarnish the polish on his baddest dude in Argentina plaque.”

  “But you think he knows we’re here?” she asked.

  “From what Stryder just said, I guarantee he not only knows, he’s most likely already on his way.” Anson quickly told Stryder about the gunshots and the smoke they’d witnessed.

  “That’s just another one to add to the list,” Stryder said. We’ve been receiving reports that his empire is crumbling around him. Those of his troops who haven’t been decimated, or jumped sides, are having to scatter in an attempt to cut off the destruction, but as much as Montez is freaking out watching his universe implode, I agree that he’s on his way here to get Natalia back.”

  “Over my dead body,” Anson growled.

  “Over our dead bodies,” Stryder corrected.

  “No,” Natalia said. “I won’t allow either of you to put yourselves in harm’s way for me. Montez was… is my mission—”

  “Wrong,” the brothers said in unison. Stryder grinned and tilted his head, yielding to his brother.

  “You’re family and family sticks together. I’d hoped to get out of Argentina and deal with Montez later, but I’m no longer feeling merciful, and I’m done with running. Any man who threatens my family has sealed his own fate. And any asshole who threatens the woman I love will not live to see another sunrise. So, mi amor, your mission just became our mission.”

  “You-you love me?”

  “With all my heart,” Anson said, pulling her to his chest. “How could I not? You are the beat of my heart and the other half of my soul.” Despite the fact that there was a price on his head, his name on a death list, he had to let this woman know that, without her in his life, he might as well be resting beneath the very dirt they were standing on. He cupped her face, thumbs sweeping away the tears that fell, and leaned in to kiss her. They’d kissed before, gently, passionately, and yet this kiss was different. This kiss sealed their own fates—this kiss joined them every bit as much as any piece of paper or vow spoken before God. Releasing her, he looked deep into her eyes and watched the acknowledgement that what he’d said was true.

  “I love you,” she said softly.

  “Good thing,” Anson said, a grin tugging at his lips. “I mean, I’m not sure where you’d find another man who was willing to let you cut into him, roll your eyes, argue about everything, boss him around, or let you drive.”

  She punched him in the center of his chest and then drew his head down and kissed him again. This time when they separated, Stryder was shaking his head.

  “Seriously? You let her get away with rolling her eyes? Bro, we’re gonna have a long talk when we get back home.”

  Despite the danger they were facing, Anson refused to leave the cemetery until Stryder took him to his mother’s grave. Once there, Anson knelt and placed his palm on the dirt, silently thanking the woman for the boy who had become his brother and the man who had become his friend. He told her all the things he knew that Stryder wouldn’t have. And when he finally stood, he knew that the woman, long gone, would still know, and would be so incredibly proud of her son.

  While both Anson and Stryder were willing to risk taking Natalia to visit her family’s plot, she shook her head. “No, but thank you. I said my goodbyes a long time ago. Even though I’ll probably never return to Argentina, I know they’ll be happy knowing I’ve found a new family.”

  The trio left the cemetery, putting the past behind and concentrating on the future they would all share from that day forward. However, all three knew that there was still a last obstacle to overcome in order for that to happen. They’d almost reached the Jeep when the sound of a phone ringing had them stopping in their tracks. Stryder answered and spoke in clipped, one word answers until the last phrase of, “We’ll be there.”

  “Be where?” Natalia asked when he ended the call.

  “Well, I had to do something while waiting for you two to leave your Garden of Eden. I’ve not only been passing out money for news of any sightings of you two, I’ve been passing out information that I wanted to reach certain ears.” Tucking his phone back into his pocket, he grinned. “And that call was to let me know it’s been heard.”

  Anson nodded. “So, we’re on our way to meet which one? Ortez or Hernandez?”

  “What?” Natalia asked, stopping again, though they were only steps away from where she’d parked the Jeep.

  “Both, actually,” Stryder said.

  “Well, this should be interesting,” Anson said. “You good to drive?”

  “What?” Natalia said again, then shook her head. “Yes, I can drive but I don’t understand how neither of you seems the least bit concerned about meeting with the very men who got you shot in the first place.”

  It was Stryder’s turn to pause, his hand on the handle of the door. “Well, fuck a duck. So you weren’t just playing Tarzan and Jane for the hell of it?”

  Anson laughed and climbed in the car, the other two following. “You need to get your stories straight. Tarzan and Jane didn’t live in Eden.” Turning in his seat to look at his brother, he grinned. “Though, come to think of it, forget it. Not only is Natalia damned skilled at cutting a bullet out of a man, she’s smart enough to know to choose bananas over apples and, well, let’s just say she’s far more beautiful than Eve and far more capable than Jane when it comes to knowing how to survive in a jungle.” He saw the flush of color creeping up Natalia’s neck to color her cheeks, and he chuckled. “Though don’t be shocked to hear her squeal like a little girl at the sight of the tiniest little spider.” He grunted when Natalia reached over and slugged him before turning the key in the ignition. Stryder only chuckled and reached across the back seat to pat her on the back.

  “I’m loving you more and more every moment, Natalia.”

  Stryder navigated from the back seat after stating there was no reason to advertise their presence. Anson gave up attempting to figure out where they were as Natalia made so many twists and turns, the scenery became a blur. It took them half an hour to leave the area in the dust and begin to drive through the jungle again.

  “How do you know we aren’t driving straight into a trap?” Natalia asked, glancing over her shoulder. “They could kill you both and use me as some sort of bargaining chip with Montez.”

  “I’d never let that happen,” Anson assured her, his hand squeezing her leg.

  “I appreciate that, and I know you believe it, but Anson, let’s be honest here. Those men have hundreds, if not thousands, of men under them. Hell, they probably could rival the army of a small country with all the guns and God knows what else in their arsenal. And they don’t even have the same code of honor as soldiers.”

  “Maybe not, but there is a code of sorts,” Anson assured her. “Sure, it’s based on fear of retribution or even death, but no man could run a billion-dollar industry without the ability to control any men who break t
hat code. No, if Stryder says that the best plan is to meet Ortez and Hernandez, then that’s what we’ll do.”

  She might not have agreed, but she nodded and continued to drive. Soon they were again bouncing in their seats as the terrain worsened. “We’re meeting them at a lab, aren’t we?” Natalia asked.

  “I think that’s a safe bet,” Stryder agreed. “They’ve been working their way towards Rosario and the rumor is they are staging a take-over here, in the heart of Montez’s operations. After hearing about what you witnessed in the jungle, I think the rumor has moved into the fact column. And if we’ve yet to hear gunshots or smell smoke, coupled with the fact that I’m damn sure they know you both are here, my guess is they are waiting for the guest of honor to show.”

  At the next turn, Natalia slammed on the brakes as men stepped out from the jungle. Nothing was said for several minutes, the occupants of the Jeep not making a single move for the guns they each had within reach, knowing they were no competition against the rifles casually held against each man’s chest.

  One man stepped out into the road and gestured for them to pull over. Once they had climbed from the Jeep, two others joined them.

  “My name is Ricardo Ortez and this is Carlos Hernandez,” he said in Spanish, waiting until the other man tilted his head towards the group before turning back. “Ms. Alvarez, may I say that it is an honor to meet the daughter of Bautisto Alvarez. Your father was a man of honor.”

  Anson felt some of the tension in the thick air dissipate and listened as Natalia accepted the tribute to her father. Everyone was speaking Spanish, but Anson was managing to understand just fine. “Thank you, Señor Ortez. I appreciate your kind words.”

  With a nod of his head, Ortez then chuckled and lifted his eyes to where Anson and Stryder stood. “Forgive me, but I hope you understand my amusement. I never would have imagined that I’d be inviting a gringo to the party. But, though our, shall I say, business ventures are different, I admire you for your determination to offer help to those innocents who are caught up in battles they have no control over.”