This was the kind of thing that Harry would do. He was so strong, so tough, he could go toe to toe with anyone. Did she have that same strength? Today she proved she did. Standing up to Harvey was one of the seminal moments in her life.
The first thing she did when she reached her car was to pull out her cell phone.
Pick up, pick up, she thought after she dialed Chris’s phone.
It rang a couple more times. She felt sweat on her brow. He had to answer. Her plan hinged on him resigning today too. She hadn’t been able to get a hold of him in three days now.
“Hello. Candace?”
“Oh God, Chris. I’m so glad you answered.” She felt an overwhelming sense of relief. “Congratulations. You’re now a partner in Hardwick & Hardwick, Attorneys at Law.”
“Huh? This is coming at me too fast. What happened?”
A big smile broke out on her face. “You resigned today. At least I told Harvey you did. I’ll email you your resignation letter. You just have to sign it and send it back to HB&J.”
“What’s going on? What did you do?”
“I found out something that would give us a little leverage. Harvey folded.”
“What kind of leverage?”
Candace could hear the confusion in Chris’s voice.
“I found some sealed records from when Harvey was a minor. This is sealed stuff. You can’t tell anybody, not even Ted or Cat.” She stopped to let that sink in. “Harvey is a rapist. When he was a kid, he raped two girls. His father managed to plead it down to two years’ probation and get the records sealed. I don’t think our Mr. Bernstein would like for that factoid to go public.”
“Uh, Candace, this is a little hard to take in. I was shot . . .”
“CHRIS! Are you all right?”
“Yeah, it was just in my leg. It didn’t hit anything important, but I’m so drugged up my mind hardly works. I’ll have to process all of this. Send me the letter. Whatever you’re into, I’m in it with you. I’ll send the old bastard my resignation, then we’ll talk again when I have a clear head. We can figure out what our next step is.”
“Forget about the firm. What happened to you? How did you get shot?”
There was a momentary pause on the line.
“I . . . um . . . we were in kinda a fire fight.”
“Chris!”
“I know. It wasn’t out fault. We were ambushed by a bunch of El Pozolero’s men. We were lucky to get out.”
“Get out of there. Come home right now, Chris. I just lost Harry. I couldn’t stand to lose someone else that I love.”
Chris stopped to consider the ramifications of what she just said. Did he really hear her right, or was it just the drugs?
“Don’t worry, I’m not a hero. I won’t be going all Rambo on you.”
Candace blew a sigh of relief. “Thank God. Chris. I’m going to start looking for office space tomorrow. I’ll start preparing the paperwork to file. It should all be ready by the time you get home.”
There was a pause before Chris answered.
“Yeah, okay, fine. But we still haven’t talked about hiring a partner that knows the business. Someone to run the office.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s a two-person office. How hard can it be?”
Chapter 41
Ted had a raging headache. He felt like there was a steel band around the crown of his head and Torquemada was turning it, one click at a time. He thought his head would burst and his brains fly out.
He paced back and forth on the patio above the pool. Should they hit the shipment tonight? After they lost Flaco, the spirit seemed to go out of all his soldiers.
But they had to. They had to keep up the pressure until El Pozolero gave in. It was the only way to get Maria back, if Maria was still alive.
He wouldn’t put anything past that bastard. The only sliver of hope he had was that they hadn’t awakened to find a pile of bones at their doorstep, yet.
His cell rang.
“Bueno?” he answered.
“Ted, It’s Rudi. I have a lead.”
“Rudi? What do you know?” Ted sat on one of the patio chairs and willed his brain to kick in gear.
“I just talked to Victoria Caballero.”
“Congratulations. I’m very happy for you. But what does an actress have to do with my problem?”
“Take it easy, caballero. It has everything to do with it.” There was a brief silence on the phone while Rudolfo took a breath. “El Pozolero wants to make a movie about his life. He’s met with a big-time Hollywood producer. He met with Victoria to get her to star in the movie.”
Ted scratched his head, gently. “Okay. I still don’t see what this has to do with me.”
“The old rat told Victoria where he’s going to be. I know where he is.”
Ted jumped to his feet. “Where?”
“Slow down señor, this is tit for tat, right? I scratch your back, you give me another Pulitzer.”
Ted was suspicious. “What do you want?”
“Simple, really. I just get to go with you. I want to be there for the end of El Pozolero.”
At least he thinks we can do it.
“You know it’s dangerous. I can’t guarantee your safety. You’d be on your own, just you and your camera.”
“I’m a big boy, Ted. I’ve been in tougher situations. Did I ever tell you about the time that the unit I was embedded in was surrounded by Taliban in Afghanistan? I can take care of myself.”
“Okay, you win. You’re coming with us. Do you have a bullet-proof vest?”
Ted’s ribs hurt at the memory of the bullets smashing him to the ground.
“Of course. Now do you want to know where he’s going to be?”
“Yeah. Let’s get the ball rolling.”
“He’s at his private villa just outside of Ensenada do los Muertos. He’s holing up there with the writers to complete his script.”
“Thanks, Rudi. I’ll put my head together with my partners and call you right back.”
He hung up his phone.
“HEY! Everybody,” Ted shouted. “I know where he is. Get everyone in here.” He strode into the great room with a huge smile on his face, his headache gone.
At last! He knew where Maria was held. She had to be there, El Pozolero wouldn’t let her be far from him.
Oh my God. What if he’s using her? What if he’s raping her? If he’s touched her, that bastard won’t live to see the light of day.
“What’s all the shouting about?” Catrina asked as she entered the great room. She had obviously been taking a nap. Her hair was mussed and she was rubbing her eyes.
“Change of plans for tonight. I know where Maria is; we need to go after her.”
Chris came limping in from the kitchen with Theresa in tow.
“What’s going on?”
“We’re going after Maria tonight.”
Theresa gasped and held her hands to her mouth.
“We need a replacement for Flaco. Who do we get?”
“Me.” Theresa stretched to her full five-foot-three- inch height. “The men will follow me. I know everything that he knew.”
Ted was stunned. “I . . . don’t know. I mean, this could get pretty ugly. You’ve never done this before.”
“Ted, I’m as good with any of the firearms as Maria is. Ricky insisted that we all be able to protect ourselves. Besides, she’s my daughter. I have to go.”
Catrina and Ted exchanged glances. Catrina gave a slight nod.
“Okay, get your men together. We’ve got to plan this out. Give me an hour to find the plans to his villa and learn whatever other information I can get, then we meet back here. Theresa, bring your special services guys. They might be a big help in the planning.”
****
The air conditioning hummed as Maria sat in the gorgeous bedroom, staring at the wall.
How do I get out? How do I get to that filthy pig?
She lost track of the days she had been there, never leav
ing the bedroom suite, her food was brought by a young woman who never said a word. She had books, magazines and Netflix to ease her boredom. She was a prisoner in a gilded cage.
The door opened and her server entered with two dresses. A red Armani cocktail gown covered in sequins with a thigh-high slit and a black Versace with a short hemline and a deep V in the front, both in size four.
“El Patron wants you to join him for dinner. You can choose from either of these.” She put the clothing down on the bed and left the room.
Maria examined the dresses. Both were overtly sexy, the kind of thing you’d wear to a meat market bar.
The Versace was cute, she’d love it in different circumstances, but it was too short for what she needed tonight.
The Armani was just right. The slit was on the right side, she could wear her holster on her left thigh. Of course, El Pozolero’s men confiscated her pistol.
She took her time putting on her makeup and dressing. She had paid her way through school as a professional dancer; this was just another performance.
Everything the drug lord provided was first class. The makeup, nylons, even the selection of shoes. She chose a pair of red stilettos with six-inch heels. Although she was already taller than El Pozolero, she wanted a noticeable height advantage.
The maid opened the door at nine p.m. and led Maria though the grand house to a large bedroom suite. A white-covered antique table was set for two.
Walking out onto the deck she watched the waves crash into the shore. It reminded her of fishing these waters with her father and she wiped a tear from her carefully-made-up eye.
The deck was wide and wrapped around the whole house. A large Jacuzzi sat under some potted trees and, below her, an infinity pool beckoned.
“You look beautiful,” he said, as he entered the room.
El Pozolero was dressed in an expensive blue suit, something Maria never expected to see.
A white jacketed waiter opened a bottle of champagne and filled two flutes. El Pozolero took both glasses and sauntered out to meet Maria.
“I thought we should have an intimate meeting.” He handed her one of the glasses. “This will allow us to have a more fruitful discussion.”
Maria sipped at her champagne, but didn’t say a word.
“This is my favorite time of day, no?” He waved his empty glass at the waiter. “The day is done; it is time to settle in for one’s evening pleasures.”
The waiter filled both glasses.
“What kind of evening pleasures did you have in mind?” Maria asked.
“The highlight of my day is cena. As you can tell,” he patted his belly, “I love my food. Cena is my favorite meal, because it is less formal; it allows my chef to get creative with his botanas.”
The waiter brought a bowl of chile con queso con rajas and a plate of totopos.
“Bring them out here, Jaime. We’ll eat under the stars.”
Jaime set the snacks down on a wrought-iron table. El Pozolero immediately grabbed a chip and dipped into the bowl with the hot cheese mix.
“One of my favorites.”
Maria was not in the mood to indulge this pig, but she dipped a chip into the chile con queso as well. It was marvelous.
The waiter poured the last of the champagne into their glasses.
“Jaime, a little music.”
“Sí, Patrón.”
“What did you want to discuss, Jefe?” Maria asked.
The short man put down his glass and moved closer to Maria. “We have to settle our business. Your people are raiding my shipments. I admit that this is hurting me. It has to stop. I need your distribution channels. This also has to happen.”
Maria held his gaze. “And what do I get out of this deal?”
“You get to live, guapa. You get to go on with your business and only pay ten percent to me for using my new distribution network.”
A lively narco corrido played over the speakers. The drug culture corrupted the traditional folk music of Mexico. This particular song extolled the virtues of a Jefe named El Pozolero.
Maria turned and looked out over the water. “And if I refuse?”
The man laughed a small chuckle, then turned Maria to face him. “This is going to be done, one way or the other. There is a pleasant way to do business and there is a not so pleasant way. Which do you prefer?”
He took her chin in his hand and forced her to look him in the eyes. “You can be my queen, sitting at my side, running your father’s business. The other option?” he shrugged his shoulders. “Well, you, your father and your mother will all end up dead and I will still have your father’s business.”
Maria pulled her face free. “This being your ‘queen,’ what does that mean?”
“You will sit at my side, your voice will be heard, you will have a say in how our business is run.”
“And your wife? How will she like this arrangement?”
He laughed again. “She will do what she is told. I keep my family and my business separate. I do what I need to do to run my business. My wife, she spends my money and has lunch with her friends.”
El Pozolero nodded to the waiter. He brought a bottle of tequila and two glasses, then removed the dishes and left the room
“And what would my duties as your ‘queen’ entail?”
He smiled. “You are a gorgeous woman. There aren’t many redheads in Mexico; your height is practically unknown. You would be mine. You can help in the business, but you would belong to me and only me.”
Maria shuddered at the image of this fat barbarian naked.
El Pozolero sat on the oversized chaise lounge. “I want to see you now. Take off your clothes.”
Maria gulped. She never expected it to come this fast. He practically drooled while he played with the knot on his tie.
“Now! I want to see you naked.”
This was a show of power. He had to show her who was in charge, to humiliate her. Okay, she could play that game.
She unzipped her dress and let it fall to the floor.
El Pozolero let out a little gasp. “You have such white skin. It’s beautiful.” He undid his tie, pulled off his jacket and removed his shirt. He fumbled a minute getting his bullet-proof vest off.
Maria stood in lacy red panties and bra. She had a garter belt holding up the nylons. Strapped to her left thigh was her empty holster.
“You still wear that thing, even when you don’t have a gun?” El Pozolero laughed.
“Force of habit, Patrón,” she said with a smile. “I’m so used to wearing it; I put it on without thinking about it.”
The glee in El Pozolero’s eyes sparkled. He patted the chaise next to him. “Come here, guapa, it’s time we got to know each other better.”
She sat next to him and thought she was going to barf when he undid her bra.
He fingered her nipples and cupped her small breasts. “This is going to be a most enjoyable business arrangement.”
Maria reached down with her left hand as she pulled him close to her with her right hand. His disgusting lips touched hers.
She fumbled with her holster. She found it in the hidden pocket behind the magazine holder, a small black switch blade.
El Pozolero forced his tongue down her throat. She thought she would gag. She could feel his large erection against her leg.
“Jefe,” she whispered in his ear, “this is for my father.”
The knife opened with a click. El Pozolero froze. She plunged the knife into his back.
“Argh . . .” he screamed and rolled away from her.
She moved with the speed and grace of a panther as she pushed him down onto the chaise and stabbed him again and again in the chest.
Tears ran down her cheeks. She made unintelligible sounds. She kept stabbing and stabbing, screaming with each cut.
Finally, she was exhausted. She slid to the floor, covered her face with her bloody hands and cried.
Chapter 42
The security cameras were no pr
oblem. Ted easily hacked into the network, found old security videos and patched them in to the live circuits. The guards monitoring the cameras would never see them coming.
The drones were another thing all together. Chris suggested shooting them out of the sky, but Catrina argued that would alert them that something was wrong.
Ted couldn’t put old videos on the screens, because a human being was flying the drones. They would know something was wrong.
His solution was to corrupt the video feed from the drones. The operators would know that the drones were malfunctioning, but, hopefully, they wouldn’t put that together with the fact that they were being raided.
Ted closed his laptop, put it in his backpack and set it aside. He hunkered down with Catrina behind a large boulder. Two men with ladders and three of Flaco’s ex-special forces men kept down behind them. Rudi, covered in camera gear, was close behind.
“Everything’s set. We have to move fast before they suspect something,” Ted said into the radio.
“Bueno,” came Martín’s voice in Ted’s earpiece.
Martín, Flaco’s oldest son, took over his father’s role. While Theresa was nominally in charge of the group, he had proved to be more than competent.
“Are you ready to blow the gates?”
“Sí, El Bombadero has them wired already.”
The narcos called him El Bombadero Loco, or just Bombadero for short. This meant The Crazy Bomber in English. From the small man’s squirrelish behavior, Ted thought that the name was appropriate.
Ted was a little worried about the explosives expert. He played both sides of the street. He hated El Pozolero with a passion, but worked for him anyway. When Flaco had approached him in a cantina he was more than anxious to switch sides. Would he do it again? Was he leading them into a trap?
So far, all the information he had given them was spot on.
Ted pushed the button on his mike again. “Chris, you ready?”
“Everything in place. We’ll go over the wall and take the house.”
Theresa and her men were assigned to clean up outside the house. They would take prisoners if they could, otherwise they would dispatch anyone they met.
The Cartel Strikes Back: The Ted Higuera Series, Book 5 Page 26
