The Cartel

by A. K. Alexander

  “Can we keep this quiet?” Alex asked.

  “We’ll have to, for awhile.”

  “Good.”

  “Stay careful and awake. I have a lot of work to do. I’ll be back tomorrow. Don’t worry, though. No one is going to hurt you anymore.” Antonio walked over and placed his hands reassuringly on Alex’s shoulders.

  *****

  “Bella, I love you and I want to marry you. I promise that I’ll take good care of you,” Pedro beseeched her, knowing that time was of the essence. With the return of Javier and Antonio, Pedro felt the chase of fear in his stomach. If they knew what he and Emilio had done, they would be killed.

  After Javier had shown up at the hotel, Pedro played it like Emilio had told him to. Emilio had promised Pedro that he would get Bella, and in return Pedro would help in handing over the business to Emilio. This part had not been as difficult as Pedro thought when Emilio suggested it.

  “Once Javier is there, tell him that you think maybe it would be best for him to sever ties with Antonio. That if the people of the country wanted someone to blame and started looking into Alex’s ties, then it would all come back to Antonio and not Javier.”

  Javier had said that it was already a consideration.

  Now all Pedro had to do was convince Bella that he was the right man for her. Once this was all behind them, he would take her back to France where she loved the country and they could have a different life than what they’d been leading in Mexico. By taking her there, she would never find out the truth about Miguel’s death. Something that still pained Pedro. He hadn’t liked Emilio’s idea, but he’d gone along with it, seeing that the ends did justify the means. He’d done as Emilio advised that day at the outdoor café in Los Angeles.

  “I’ve already spoken to the man who is Miguel’s bodyguard. Seems his loyalties can be swayed with the right amount of money. You’re to take one hundred thousand American dollars in cash, which I have right here.” Emilio had patted a leather briefcase, next to him.

  Pedro set down his cola. “Am I to buy Miguel’s death?”

  “No. You’re to buy Bella’s love and your freedom from the nuisance that has been infiltrating your family. Alejandro will have that knife he always carries, the one Bella gave him. I have already instructed the bodyguard on how to handle the entire situation. All you have to do is take the money to him.”

  “Why can’t you do this?”

  “I have other business to conduct. As you are putting your plans into action, I have some things to do here to make sure my future goes as planned.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t like having Miguel murdered.”

  “What will you hate more? Isabella with Alejandro’s ring on her finger? He will marry her if you don’t do this. Can’t you see the way they look at each other? Don’t be a fool.”

  Pedro had taken the money and flown to Mexico City that evening where he met with the man who had been Miguel’s bodyguard and gave him the money. He would be damned before he’d let his princess marry a hoodlum like Alex, even if it meant shedding the blood of a man he thought highly of.

  And now Pedro heard his Bella say,” But Pedro, you’re like a father or a brother to me, not a husband. I can’t marry you.”

  “In time you will learn to love me that way. And until then, we don’t need to be physically intimate, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  She blushed and looked away. “I can’t walk. You wouldn’t want me as a wife.” She couldn’t believe what he was suggesting. She was trying to make excuses and be kind to him, but the thought of being his wife was upsetting. She had no idea he felt this way about her. She hoped her father would hurry back from the hotel restaurant where he’d gone for a cup of coffee.

  “Stop that. I’ve seen you with the physical therapist and I know you’ve been holding out on your family.”

  “You’ve been spying on me?” Anger welled inside her. She had been taking a few steps here and there with the therapist, but she had made her promise to keep it from her family. She wanted to surprise her father on his fiftieth birthday, which was only a couple of weeks away.

  “Of course not. I saw one day when I was taking a walk through the garden. I didn’t say anything then because I know you, and I knew that you would want to be the one to tell the family. I’m sorry.”

  She studied him and continued to listen.

  “I will take care of you. You know I will. Your father would be so pleased.”

  “No. I don’t want to marry you. I can’t think of you like that.”

  Pedro’s face turned an angry red. “Are you still thinking of Alejandro? Let me tell you, Alejandro is going away for a very long time, for the rest of his life, if they don’t put him to death first. He killed your brother. He is a beast, an insane beast. You don’t love him and he never loved you. Get him out of your head. You will be happy with me. Don’t be foolish.”

  A knock sounded at the door.

  “Yes?” Bella asked.

  “It’s your Godfather.”

  “Go and let him in,” Bella ordered Pedro.

  He walked to the door and as he opened it to let Antonio in, he turned back to her before walking out. “You don’t have to make a decision right now. Think about it. I know how unhappy you’ve been lately.”

  “What was that all about?” Antonio asked after Pedro left the room.

  “Nothing.”

  “Would you care to join me for a walk? I think we have something to talk about.” Antonio asked.

  Bella nodded and left the hotel with her Godfather, hoping he would have the answers she was looking for.

  *****

  Julio moved Lydia into the studio he’d rented in downtown Calí, within six weeks after meeting her. At first she’d been cold and difficult. But he’d found common ground in talking with her about her faith. And now, he knew more about this woman than any other he’d ever met. Their faith was a common ground, but they’d found a passion in each other, that although many would have considered sinful, they’d found heavenly.

  After not having been with a man for eleven years, Lydia craved him by her side. She matched his insatiability perfectly.

  One night lying in bed after making love, Julio began to question her about her background and where she was from. They’d had several cervezas and he’d told her he loved her. She hadn’t replied, but he didn’t expect her to. Instead she told him about her life and what had happened to her over the last ten years.

  She told him about the kidnapping, the whorehouse, the drugs, the convent, Father Miguel, and then her determination about retrieving what was rightfully hers. In particular, she wanted to take back the love of her daughters.

  Julio told her about working with the DEA and being a part of the Guatemalan militia, along with their plan to wipe out drug dealers. He told her about his involvement with Father Miguel.

  Lydia smiled at him knowingly. Although during the years she’d been with Antonio she never eluded to it, she knew all about his business operations. She also knew that anything could be done for a price, including getting drugs into neighboring countries. She felt sure that Julio was part of that corruption in his own way, but it didn’t really matter to her. What mattered was that she was lying next to this man whom she felt comfortable with, and he loved her.

  “What do you want from me?” she asked. “You’re not in my bed only for love.”

  “Maybe not, but you do know that I love you, Lydia.”

  “Yes.” She sighed.

  He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips. She smiled sadly at him. “But this here, what we have between us isn’t solely about love, is it?”

  He shook his head. “Maybe you can or can’t help me. Maybe you know or could tell me something about Antonio or his crew that I haven’t heard. What do you have to lose? They think you’re dead.”

  Hearing this from him upset her and reinforced her anger. The thought of her children thinking she was dead infuriated her. “I can’
t believe he went to such lengths to get rid of me. Why not simply ask me for a divorce if he hated me so much?”

  “Not his style, but neither is what he’s done to you. It seems far too cruel to even be the work of Antonio. His family is very important to him. He’s ruthless, but…” Julio paused. “Do you know anyone else involved who might have wanted you gone?”

  She considered the question seriously for the first time. Although she hated the thought, one name came to her: “Emilio.”

  “Emilio? His brother?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “The baby.”

  “Baby?”

  Lydia had left that one detail out of her story. She’d never told anyone this story—not the nuns, not Father Miguel, no one. But here she was, pouring out the last eleven years of her life to a near stranger, who had taken over her life with passion and a sense of renewal. The relief that engulfed her after she told him the story about the affair with Emilio and then her pregnancy and what had happened afterwards made her positively euphoric. She’d released it, and together they held each other, as she cried tears of freedom.

  After that night, Julio and Lydia joined ranks. Julio taught her the ways of his world, how to spy, tap phone lines, and investigate potential informants. She learned quickly, like a child greedy for knowledge.

  On the days when he was out, he asked her to keep a low profile. “You’re too close to your old home,” he told her one evening. “I know that you ventured out this afternoon to spy on your daughters out shopping. I was watching.”

  “I am sorry. They didn’t spot me. I know how to disguise myself well now. I really want to see my girls.”

  “In time, love. Keep patient.”

  She abided by his rules for a couple of weeks, until she could no longer wait. She found a spot near her old home where she could park the small car Julio allowed her to use and then she’d follow whichever daughter would leave first, if only to get a glimpse.

  Felicia had a certain pattern: she liked to shop. She bought a lot of makeup, clothes, and lingerie. Lydia smiled as she watched her bounce along the streets of stores, still every bit the mischievous girl with the flirty eyes. She was captivating. It was impossible not to notice all the men leering at her. It made Lydia want to slap their faces, but Felicia smiled back at her admirers, unfazed by their blatant stares. In fact, she seemed to welcome them. This troubled Lydia, who prayed that her youngest daughter was not too promiscuous, even though she suspected that she was.

  Rosa had a very different routine. Each day, she would go to the park or the library, where she studied art or worked on one project or another. Lydia could never get close enough to catch a glimpse of exactly what it was her daughter was working on, but she still felt enormously proud of her, seeing her working so hard. They always had a bodyguard tow.

  After spying on them for a few weeks, Lydia decided to back off, once she’d investigated one more avenue. She’d witnessed Rosa going into a doctor’s office each week. It was the only times a bodyguard didn’t shadow her daughter. The next time she followed Rosa closer than she ever had before, she passed by a door that read Dr. Martinez, Psychiatrist.

  Lydia was bothered about why her oldest daughter needed to see a psychiatrist. She decided to put her new skills to the test. She knew that what she was about to do was wrong, but she had to, she had to find out what was troubling her daughter.

  *****

  Rosa had made a conscious decision to get well. The nightmares and broken sleep, the binge eating she did in those hours that she couldn’t sleep, and the fantasies she had about torturing and killing her uncle plagued her and came through in her art. Although, her violent pieces of artwork had interested a dealer and agent, she longed to paint serene pieces. Painting was her life, and although she loved it, each time she sat down with a brush and paints she relived the traumas of the past, and she wanted it to stop. She needed to get well for her own sanity. She’d started seeing Dr. Martinez a month earlier, and last week had begun telling him about her uncle.

  As she sat across from the middle-aged doctor who spoke in hushed tones, she became comfortable enough with him to tell him what her uncle had put her through. The therapist listened intently. It felt so good to tell someone at last, and have that person tell her that none of it was her fault. Her relief was great and the hour passed quickly. As she left his office, she barely noticed the woman seated in his waiting room, reading a magazine. The woman wore dark glasses and kept her head down. Rosa thought another one of the shamed as the door closed behind her.

  *****

  Rosa had been so close for a moment. Lydia wanted to touch her, talk to her, embrace her. But the time was not right, and she’d had to clasp her hands together hard when her oldest daughter walked by; just so she wouldn’t touch her, and she’d had to bite the inside of her mouth, afraid that if she said anything, that it would all escape her. She hadn’t, though, and after a few more moments in the waiting room, Lydia stepped inside Dr. Martinez’s office, having fabricated a story of an abusive, alcoholic husband to justify her being there.

  Her recent relationship with Julio had taught her many things in a short amount of time. Bugging offices was fairly easy, and that’s what she’d done the night before. She didn’t necessarily need to make this appointment with the doctor, but she’d already taken enough of a risk the night before by breaking and entering, then planting the bug inside his office. She knew that she could easily reach under the chair she sat on and retrieve the small device when the doctor wasn’t looking. Her opportunity came within fifteen minutes of the start of their session when the doctor was paged on his beeper.

  “One moment please,” he told her as he held up a hand. “I hate to do this, but I really need to return this call. I have a patient I’m very concerned about.”

  “No problem,” Lydia replied. The doctor closed the door behind him when he went into a separate office to make the phone call.

  Lydia quickly retrieved the bug, quietly got up, and left the doctor’s office without leaving any explanation.

  Within a few hours, she knew exactly why Rosa was seeing a doctor. The words she heard her daughter speak horrified her. The truth hit Lydia with the force of a hurricane and she hated Emilio for what he’d done to her daughter. His name had come to mind, but she’d never believed he would have done this to her or her child. She had always thought that Emilio loved her. Maybe it had been a woman’s intuition that had made her utter his name the other night in bed with Julio, but to accept it as truth and then to hear further that he’d raped her child after she was gone, made her physically ill.

  When she was finished vomiting, she pieced it all together. Emilio had been the one who had her kidnapped. As she listened to her daughter’s sweet voice and heard her tears of shame, Lydia realized further that it had been Emilio all along who’d set her up. He’d gotten rid of her because she had stopped fitting into his plans. Her anger was now focused on the right man.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

  The small aircraft circled the landing strip in the middle of the overgrown jungle. Emilio glanced over at Hector, asleep on the seat across the aisle, smiling through his drug-induced bliss. Emilio slapped him across the face. “Wake up, pendejo. We’re here.”

  Hector sat up straight and rubbed the side of his face like a scolded puppy. “That hurt, man.”

  “Shut up.”

  The pilot brought the small plane down; it rolled roughly across the dirt strip, bouncing and jostling the load of drugs it carried, as well as the plane’s three occupants.

  Once the plane came to a stop, Emilio looked around, but didn’t see anyone. “Hold on,” he said to the pilot and stepped out of the plane. He heard his name being called, and looked across the strip towards an old metal shack, where he could see Julio and another guy waiting. Emilio waved. He went back to plane. “We’re all clear.”

  The pilot and Hector got out. “Do you want us to start unloading?” Hecto
r asked him.

  “Let me take care of business first.” Emilio waved a hand at him as he went to meet Julio, who was walking towards them. He had a good feeling that business with this Julio would prove to be fruitful. At first, Emilio had been on the alert about Julio, since they’d met one another at a bar in Mexico City a couple of months back, while Emilio had been there doing some business transactions for Antonio. More grunt work, but not for long. Emilio had gotten to talking with Julio. He liked the guy, and Julio seemed to know the right people. More importantly, he had the right amount of dollar bills.

  Their last meeting was shortly after Emilio staged the hit on Miguel and the set-up of Alejandro. He and Julio met in Mexico City at a strip joint. After a few drinks, a sample of the cocaine Emilio was pushing on his new business partner, and some talk of big money and large amounts of drugs, the talk turned toward the murdered priest.