The Cartel

by A. K. Alexander

  The worst of it was that Alex knew they would never achieve the dreams and plans they’d made together. He hugged himself tightly, closing his eyes, hungry for Bella’s warmth—warmth he knew he’d never feel again.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

  The first meeting behind Antonio and Javier’s back had been called. Emilio knew which buttons to push, and how to get away with pushing them. Seated in the large conference room inside the warehouse where the drugs were stored, was a group of about twenty men, most of them uneducated, who'd come to America to make their dreams come true. They’d discovered the hard way that it wasn't as easy as they had once thought.

  These men were the drug pushers, the foot soldiers of the organization, the ones on the street, risking their lives and the threat of being sent back to Mexico if they were caught hung over their heads. Emilio and Hector had plans for all of them, since they were planning to establish a new regime.

  The men all sat around a long, wooden table, fidgeting and looking at each other nervously. No one had ever called them for a meeting before. Hector usually met with them on the street and brought them the drugs they needed to sell.

  "Hello, gentlemen. Thank you for coming," Emilio began. "I'm sure you’re all wondering why you are here."

  The young men stared at him, full of fear and curiosity.

  "You’re here because you have a new job to do. You now work for me and Hector. Your orders will not come from my brother, Señor Espinoza, or from Javier Rodriguez. They will come directly from me from now on. But all this is to be kept quiet. When we tell you to do something, you will do it. Things are going to change around here. You will report directly to Hector every day. You will pick up your product on a daily basis. In the evening, you’ll bring us what you do not sell, including the day’s take. Then the shift will change. Whoever works evenings will take their cut, and come back in the morning. You will account for everything spent, and every ounce sold. There will be no stealing within this organization. Do you understand? Up ‘til now, things have been way too flexible. We've gotten wind that some of you have been stealing drugs and money from us."

  "We don't like that," Hector chimed in.

  The men looked at each other, not quite understanding the implications of what was being said in this cold, dim room. One of the young men, Juan, who was considered more courageous than the others, interrupted the proceedings. "This don’t sound right to me. I think I don’t want to be a part of this."

  "Really now? Well, Juan, I don't think you have to worry about that,” Hector sneered. “Remember when I said we heard some of you men have been stealing from us? We heard it was you, man."

  Juan looked surprised. "Me? No way. I never stole from you. I always gave you your money and did everything right."

  "We'd like to believe you, but we don't," Hector answered him curtly. Then, as if time had slowed to a standstill, Hector pulled out a twenty-two from his long, dark coat and shot the man in the head. Blood spurted everywhere. Juan's head rolled forward as he slumped in his chair, life completely drained from him. The other men gasped, and then quickly fell silent, looking away from the ghastly scene.

  "Does anyone else have a problem with us?" Emilio quietly asked them, but the men were too dumbfounded to mutter a response.

  "Good,” Emilio said, a slow smile creeping across his face. “Clean this mess up, and get rid of him. Business will begin tomorrow. You can have today off. If anyone speaks of what went on here today, they'll wind up the way Juan did."

  The two men swept out of the building, high as a kite on the coke they'd been doing all morning, ready to cause more trouble to bring down their empire by transferring its source of power.

  "Now, my friend, we fly to Bogotá, and then on to Guatemala." Emilio winked at Hector who Emilio knew from his own experiences, was high at that moment from not only the drugs but also from killing a man. Emilio could tell by the look in his henchman’s eyes that he’d loved it—loved the feeling, loved the power, and couldn't wait until he could do it again. Emilio would be certain to see that Hector got that chance.

  *****

  Sorrow so pain filled it held Bella’s heart in a vise and swept through her entire body, while disillusionment and tears clouded her vision. Pedro sat across from her inside the hotel suite that had only two days before been adjoined by Alex’s suite. Now Pedro was staying there. Directly after seeing her brother slain, and after Alex was arrested, she was taken by the bodyguard and another man. They stayed with her until Pedro arrived a couple of hours later. He’d told her that her father was being notified and would be leaving Europe with Antonio soon. They expected them that afternoon.

  Her world had changed in those two days and she could hardly speak to Pedro at that moment. She wanted nothing more than to curl up and die. How could the man that she loved, or thought she loved, kill her brother? Her beloved and dear brother. She didn’t understand. A thought crossed her mind time and again: she wondered just how corrupt her family was. She was beginning to believe the stories she heard about them, and now she wondered if her own father hadn’t asked Alex to kill Miguel. She didn’t want to think such a horrible thought, but she couldn’t help herself. She could not believe that Alex had done this. Why? He was not a cold, evil man. At least she’d thought that. He claimed he cared for her. Yet, she saw him there, with the knife in his hand with her brother’s blood on it, and until Alex had gone in there alone, her brother had been guarded. None of this made sense.

  Placing her face in her palms, Bella cried uncontrollably. “I can’t believe this. Why? Why would he do this? Did my father order this? Is that why? I know that everything you say you do with my father, everything Alex has tried to tell me that all of you do for him and Antonio is legitimate, but I have ears and a brain, and I no longer believe you.”

  “Bella, that may be so. You will have to speak to your father on these issues. I feel you should be more aware of what goes on in this family and business. If it were my choice you would know everything.” He took her hand. “But I know that your father had nothing to do with this or Antonio either. Alex was pathologically jealous,”

  Emilio interrupted as he entered the room. He’d arrived that morning. He walked over to Bella and placed a hand on her shoulder. He stood above her in an authoritative manner. “I believe there was a side to this young man you were quite unaware of. He hated the thought of your being close to any other man—even one whom you thought of as your brother and friend. Even a priest.”

  “If that’s the truth, then why do this almost in front of me. If he was so jealous and did this out of love, why so brutal and why while I was there?”

  Pedro nodded his head in agreement. “That is a good question. It troubles me, too.”

  Emilio shot him a grave look.

  “However, it is possible that he’s plain crazy, and had it in his mind to rid you of all the men in your life, even including your father and myself. Are you aware that his mother was killed in Los Angeles a couple of years ago? She was shot down. They never found the killer and at the time Alejandro was nowhere to be found. It is possible that this boy has kept his dark side hidden so well from us that we were all fooled by him. I truly believe him insane.”

  Bella shook her head. “That is ridiculous,” she exclaimed. “Are you implying he murdered his own mother? I cannot believe or listen to anymore of this.”

  “It’s true,” Pedro said.

  “I’m going to see him.”

  “No!” Emilio ordered her.

  “I’m going, Emilio. I have to talk with Alex.”

  Emilio paced the floor, the oak planks creaking beneath his heavy feet. He shot Pedro a glance, then turned and left the room.

  “If you insist on going, I’ll drive you,” Pedro said. There was no way he was going to allow Bella to see Alex without him there, and by the look in Emilio’s eyes they would have to make certain that Bella accepted their lies.

  *****

  The horrendous dries es
caping from the prison cells pricked Bella’s nerves. Already distressed over Miguel’s murder and Alex’s imprisonment, the disturbing sensation she felt as Pedro rolled her along those cold corridors assailed even the marrow of her bone.

  A prison guard, who looked as if he’d been stuffed into his uniform, came around behind the chair after he explained to Pedro that only one of them at a time could see Alejandro.

  The guard escorted her into a small room, where she was told Alex would be brought to her. “Usually we don’t allow anyone to see the prisoners. But since you’re the governor’s daughter, well…”

  “Thank you for your cooperation.” Bella had telephoned the prison before they left and insisted she be able to speak to Alex, she even offered a bribe if necessary.

  Once inside the room, she sat in one of the chairs at opposite ends of a small wooden table. It was dank, and smelled worse than a trash bin. Alex was led in, shackled on his feet, his arms handcuffed in front of him. His head was down, but when he raised it, he looked straight into her eyes. She gasped. She could see that he’d been badly beaten. Dried blood trickled down his chin. His right eye was swollen closed and purple, the other one half closed and bloodshot. His face was bruised almost beyond recognition.

  “My God!” Bella exclaimed, taken aback by the violence inflicted upon him.

  “Shhh,” he said. “I’m all right.” The guard shoved him down into the chair opposite her. She got up to go to him.

  “No,” The guard ordered her, “It is against prison rules.” She sat back down, not taking her eyes off Alex. She nodded at the guard, who turned to leave the room.

  “I’ll be right outside,” he told her.

  She couldn’t say anything at first, her mouth gaping open.

  “I must look pretty bad?” he asked.

  “Oh, Alex does it hurt?”

  “I’m fine.” He winced.

  “The police? Did they do this to you?”

  He nodded.

  “Look at me, Alejandro. We don’t have much time I know what I saw. My brother…” she choked on her words. “Did you do that? Did you kill him?”

  He shook his head. “No.” He looked up at her. “I love you, Isabella. You have to believe me.” Although he’d never uttered those words aloud, he’d thought about his feelings for Bella quite a bit the last two days, and what had occurred, brought him to the need to voice it. If she heard him say it, then maybe it would make things right between them. Maybe she would believe him. “I would never do anything to hurt you. I know how much you loved your brother. I couldn’t kill him or anyone.”

  Bella closed her eyes, tears coming down her face. “Then how? Who?”

  “I don’t know. You have to believe me. Someone set me up.”

  “The knife? Your knife?”

  “Those kids, when we were walking to meet your brother, I think one of them took it. The knife was in the room when I went in. On the desk. I swear.”

  “Am I to believe a child did that?”

  The prison guard opened the door. “Your time is up. Say goodbye.”

  Bella unlocked the brakes on her chair. She rotated it toward the door.

  “Tell me that you believe me, Bella. Please, you have to help me.”

  Not looking at him, she said, “I don’t know what to believe.”

  Pedro was right there to take the handles of the wheelchair and escort her out of the prison.

  She wanted to believe Alex. Needed to, but the proof and now the story of the children. Maybe he was crazy as Pedro suggested. Her mind understood that possibility, but her heart would never accept it.

  *****

  When Antonio heard the news that his son was imprisoned for murdering Miguel, he immediately cut short his trip in Europe, where he and Javier had been meeting with a group of wealthy and powerful Germans who were eager to do business with them, instead of with the Italian mafia.

  On board the jet, Javier poured himself his third large shot of tequila and offered some to Antonio who refused. “I cannot understand this. First of all, why would Alex take Bella to Mexico City without speaking with one of us? I want to kill him for that alone. Why would he murder Miguel? You must imagine how this will look to all of those he’d been spreading his rhetoric to. Once the connection is made between Alex and you and then possibly me, it will be bad. Pedro has told me that Bella was witness to the carnage. For God’s sake, he didn’t just cut his throat; he pulled his tongue through the back of his head! What kind of man did you bring on board our operation?” Javier shot back the booze and slammed his hand against the tray in front of him.

  “That man is my son.”

  “What if he’s not. It may not be so. Have you considered this?”

  “Alejandro is my son. Marta was his mother. Look at the boy and you know he’s mine. I told you he was mine and that’s the end of the discussion.”

  “Maybe Alejandro knows you’re his father. Maybe this is his revenge. Could he want to destroy this operation, this business, your family and mine out of his hatred for you? What if he knows? It would make sense.”

  “He doesn’t know.”

  “How can you be sure of that?”

  Antonio glared at his lifelong friend. “Because I know.” He thumped his chest. “I also know he didn’t murder your stepson. The boy is not a killer. He has his mother’s heart.”

  Javier was not convinced as he poured himself another drink. He’d known Antonio since they were boys and he knew that what existed in the man’s heart was not always good. He could kill without thought. He ordered people to be sent to their graves on a regular basis. How could Antonio expect Javier to believe that if it was true that Alex was indeed the man’s son that the boy would not be like his father?

  Afraid to further press the issue with an already cross Antonio, Javier remained quiet for the rest of the flight home. A thought crossed his mind several times on the way back to Mexico, and upon seeing his distraught daughter and hearing her cries, this thought, he knew would have to put into effect. It was time for him to part ways with his best friend and partner Antonio Espinoza.

  ****

  After flying for fifteen hours. Antonio had his driver take him straight to the prison in Mexico City, where Alex was being held. Javier had gone to the hotel to see Isabella.

  “Alejandro Peña is not allowed to see visitors.” The warden met Antonio at the entrance. He was a tall man, slight in build, with narrow dark eyes, and greasy hair. His eyes seemed to nearly close as he spoke.

  Antonio immediately sized him up as a miserable functionary. “I believe you will allow me to see him.”

  “No, Señor, as I have already explained, no one is allowed in to talk to him.”

  Antonio got in the man’s face and stared straight into his eyes. “My name is Antonio Espinoza. Does that name mean anything to you? Because it should. I am allowed to see Señor Peña. Odd, but people who give me a difficult time always have such terribly bad luck. I would certainly regret your having bad fortune the rest of your life.”

  The warden’s hands shook as he nodded his head. He turned around, and motioned for Antonio to follow him. When they arrived at the small interrogation room and Alex was seated across the table from him, Antonio was shocked to see the cuts and bruises on Alejandro’s face and noticed that he looked much thinner than he had ten days before, when Antonio had left for Germany.

  “My God. What have they done to you?” Antonio blurted.

  “Tried to kill me,” Alex answered in a weak voice that sounded as if it was coming from a broken heart.

  “I know you didn’t murder Miguel.”

  “You’re the only one who does.”

  “And the murderer, of course. Do you know who that is?” Antonio placed his hands on the table.

  “I don’t know.” Alex looked away from Antonio.

  “Are you positive?”

  “Yes. I know, or I think that the man who was supposedly his bodyguard was involved.”

  “Do
you know the man’s name?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll find out. I’m already working on getting you out of here. Whoever did this to you probably would go so far as to have you killed, if needed. With me, you’ll be protected. You stay here and I’m certain that you’ll die.”

  “But how? There is no way they’re going to let me out. The entire country is seeking my blood.”

  “There isn’t anything money can’t buy. Including innocence.”

  “But I am innocent.”

  “I know that. If I didn’t think you were, I might let you rot in here. Killing a priest is a terrible sin, indeed. I wouldn’t want to be any part of that. If things go the way I want them to, you will be out of here in forty-eight hours. No trial. Nothing. You will be vindicated on all charges.”