by M C Rowley
“You shouldn’t have come,” he said.
“No shit,” I said. “Hell of a welcoming party. You killed the pilot, and possibly two CIA agents. Good work, asshole.”
Jairo flexed his shoulders back. I was fucking sick of trying to be nice to him.
I said, “Look, I don’t give a shit about you anymore. You’re dead to me. But I will not stop until I find my granddaughter. Have some heart—tell me where she is, and I’ll be gone.”
Jairo put the pistol in the back of his pants and let the door close behind him. He was squaring up like a lion ready to fight over a chunk of meat.
I asked, “Is your mother in there?”
Jairo nodded.
“Let her go and we’ll leave. You can do whatever it is you’re going to do with Mr. Reynolds. I don’t care.”
“Come inside,” said Jairo. “You’re here now, so it doesn’t matter. You’ve got no way off this place.”
I sensed Jairo was trying to tell me something.
“Wait,” I said. “What does Andino want?”
Jairo cocked his head. Yes, I thought, I know all about it.
“He’ll explain inside.”
I nodded. “Is Estrella here?”
Jairo shook his head. My heart sank. I walked toward him and the door. Again, I got a strong sense that he wanted to tell me something.
I paused, waiting for him to lead the way inside the tower.
He said, “You shouldn’t have come. You’re no help here.”
I nodded. “Come on, let’s do this.”
He opened the door and we walked in, out of the rain. I found a large room with army-green walls and austere furniture—two sofas, some bookshelves, and a collection of tables pulled together with laptops and desktop computers on them.
First, I saw Agent Rose sitting on a sofa, his hands tied behind his back. To his side was Luciana, pointing a rifle at me. On the other sofa was the man who had introduced himself to me as Pastor Robert from New York. He was wearing a beat-up and dirty suit with the sleeve of his missing arm tucked inside itself. He was smiling at me.
Next to him was Eleanor. She had what looked like explosives strapped to her chest. She didn’t look me in the eye but I knew she’d had seen me enter the room.
“Get dry, Scott,” said Andino. “Then we can all talk. There’s a bedroom over there with spare clothes in the closet.”
I nodded and walked slowly to the room. Inside, I found a couple of bunks and, as Andino had said, a closet with military-style pants and white t-shirts hanging inside. I pulled off my wet clothes, found a set that would fit me, and pulled the dry garments on. My shoes were soaking but I had no choice but to put them back on.
Once I was ready, I went back into the main room, a thousand questions piercing my brain like little pins. I had to play this perfectly. If not, it was all worth nothing. I noted the absence of Jean Santos and prayed she had survived the sea below.
“Sit down,” said Andino.
I did so, on the sofa across from Rose, looking at Andino and Eleanor to my left.
“Not part of the plan,” said Andino. “But them’s the breaks. It might be better actually.”
Jairo stood at the door through which we had come, pistol back in his hand.
“Let us go,” I said.
His eyes were empty. Thick creases around them created hollowed holes where I saw no empathy. He had gone mad, that was for sure. He stared at me like he was focused on a point a couple of feet in front of my face.
“That won’t work for me,” he said. “Or Agent Rose here either.”
I looked at Rose.
Rose shrugged. “We need to make a deal here,” he said.
I nodded and stayed quiet.
Andino spoke. “Today is all about decisions. Each person in this room is seeking a certain type of satisfaction. But to the detriment of another. And I assure you all, I will not be the loser here.”
“This is all about money? You have it already, no? Jairo can give you the account numbers you need. Take the money and run,” I said.
Andino smiled deeply, his mouth twisting into an crescent. “I don’t want money,” he said. “I want to die.”
I looked across at Rose, who looked back and puffed his chest out. I looked at Eleanor. She stared at the floor without moving her head.
“Okay,” I said. “So die.”
Andino’s smile disappeared. “Are you religious, Scott?”
I paused for a beat. “No.”
“Nor am I,” said Andino. “But I do believe in one of the Old Testament’s ideas. Namely, revenge. All revenge should be equal to the offense.”
I nodded. “An eye for an eye.”
“Blood for blood,” he said. “I will die here. But young Jairo will not. He will lose everything he has, but not his life.”
“The Sons are all but dead,” I said. “You got your revenge for whatever happened to you.”
“You’re wrong,” said Andino. “I made promises. And I will keep them.”
I had to keep Andino talking. At least while Eleanor had explosives strapped to her. “You knew Jairo from before?”
Andino nodded. “I will give your son a choice tonight. I want you to understand what I have suffered.”
Rose rolled his eyes.
“You’d do well to listen, Agent Rose,” snapped Andino, who’d seen the gesture. “This involves you, too. The CIA, and the DEA, abandoned me. And you will pay for it.”
Rose didn’t say anything or move.
Jairo stepped forward. “Let’s get this over with.”
Andino sat up a little and stared at Jairo. Then he said, “You should’ve killed me when you had the chance.”
Chapter Fifty
“The day the Sons of No One discovered I was the snitch,” Andino said, “they took me to the warehouse back there on the coast that belonged to the company I borrowed my moniker from. Esteban ordered his main guys to tell me they had found the rat and that I would witness his execution. I was terrified, knowing they must have been lying, of course, but I had no choice but to go with them.
“When I arrived at the old warehouse, I found my wife and two daughters tied up in the middle of the room. I will never forget their faces, looking at me with hope. And I knew there was nothing I could do to help them. Their faces, red eyes, shiny, wet cheeks.”
“The Sons interrogated me for hours. I confessed, and they proceeded to rape and then torture and then kill my family in front of me.”
I hung my head. I’d read about the cartel’s brutality in papers and online, but I’d never heard a first-hand account.
“Jairo was there that day.”
We all looked at my son, whose gaze did not waver.
“He was too young to do the dirty business, but he watched. They came to me, taking turns to beat me with their fists and feet. I don’t remember anything of that. I had slipped into a trance of some sort; all I could see was my girls and my wife being tortured again and again. Then they cut off my arm. The pain was like nothing I had ever felt, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my heart, which died that day along with my family. They beat me with my severed arm. I remember that. That’s when I passed out.”
I looked at Jairo, who was staring at Andino.
“They thought I was dead. Jairo here was ordered to take the bodies out into the surrounding woods and bury us. I woke up in the back of the pickup and gave him quite a scare when he came around the back of the truck to do the deed.”
“We made a deal,” said Jairo.
“Yes,” said Andino. “I’ll honor it.”
I got up and stepped toward Jairo. Luciana raised her rifle at me.
I said, “What deal?”
Andino’s face stretched into a sardonic smile. “Tell your father.”
Jairo would not look at me.
“Tell me,” I said.
I looked at Eleanor and realized then that besides the explosives on her chest, she was handcuffed to Andino.
>
I said, “Jairo will give you whatever you want. Let Eleanor go. You can do your deal in peace.”
Andino tipped his head toward Rose. “Not sure the US government will agree with you there.”
I said, “Robert, I am sorry for your loss. I cannot imagine what pain you have suffered. But trust me, we have suffered so much, too. We lost Jairo as a baby. Never knew him. I held him once. We thought he was dead. I thought he was dead. That’s shit you can’t undo. I’m asking you, let Eleanor go and you’ll never hear of us again.”
Then Eleanor spoke. “No,” she said. “I support Jairo. I understand the sacrifice he needs to make.”
She still would not look at me.
I could only ask, “What have you done?”
Eleanor looked at me at last. Her eyes were red raw and deep black bags lay underneath them.
“Stop trying to save our skins,” she said. “We are the sacrifice.”
My mind worked double-time. If Jairo had made a deal to save Estrella, then the sacrifice would be worthy. But no one had mentioned the little girl at all.
“Take me,” I said. “That’s fair.”
Andino stood up, pulling Eleanor’s wrist as he did so. He stared at me, anger flowing through his facial muscles. “That is not enough.”
“Make the transfer,” I said. “Then blow us up. If you let Jairo go, that’s fair.”
Eleanor smiled meekly.
Andino laughed. “No, Scott. That’s not the deal.”
“What do you mean? That’s blood for blood. That’s fair.”
I was racking my brain for a way out of this. But I couldn’t see a way of saving Eleanor and Jairo, and Estrella. I looked at Rose.
“Can’t you do something?”
“This is the way it has to be. I need to take Andino back in custody. And I need that money to be transferred so we can track it. Sorry, Dyce. I’m no help to you now.”
“Like you ever were,” I said.
“Fuck you,” said Rose. “You don’t get shit, do you? We risked everything on this case. We helped you for no reason.”
I shook my head.
Jairo spoke. “We made a deal. My parents for the money.”
Andino nodded. “Yes. We did.”
Reynolds walked to the table and picked up a large satellite phone. Then he looked at Jairo.
“Give me the account number. It’s time.”
I looked at my son. His beard was long again. His hair had grown out. I felt no love for him. I hated him. He’d played us all for money. How could I let him bring up a six year old girl? No. He would be a terrible father.
“You know where your daughter is?”
Jairo said nothing. Again, I sensed he was trying to tell me something, but I was damned if I could read his thoughts.
Eleanor spoke before he could answer. “Scott. He has never known his daughter. We have found our son. We have to support him.”
I said, “You’ve lost your mind.”
She started to cry.
Andino said, “None of you get it, do you?”
We all looked at him.
He went on, “There’s nothing after this. Certain triggers will be pulled when I make this call. The person on the other end of the line has strict instructions. Firstly, transfer all the funds to the old Sons’ account. And then give the order to execute the girl. It’s over.”
Blood raged through me. “You touch that girl and I’ll kill you myself.”
“Too late for that,” said Andino. “I’m already dead. I want Jairo to be left with no one. Like I was.” Eleanor was chained to him like some perverse bondage scenario. “I will die today, too. The choice is Jairo’s and Jairo’s alone. If he wants the funds. His daughter and parents must die.”
I looked at my son. His face grimaced as he thought.
“Don’t do this,” I said.
Andino ignored me and looked at Jairo. “It’s your decision to make. There’s billions there. Enough for you to start whatever it is you want to start. Give me the numbers.”
The room went silent. I looked at Jairo, and then Luciana. The two people with guns. Where the hell was Jean? Too late now. I had to make a move.
Andino said again, “Give me the numbers.”
I could rush Luciana, I thought. It was my best shot. Jairo was too close to Andino.
Then Jairo stepped toward Andino, took a piece of paper, and scrawled something down. My heart sank. Andino smiled and dialed a number. He waited for a beat, then spoke into the phone.
“Yes, we’re ready. Transfer all funds to account number…” He read off the string of numbers on the paper, then said, “And make the call.”
He waited and listened and smiled and hung up.
“It’s done,” he said.
Chapter Fifty-One
Andino turned to Eleanor and pushed her arm away and located a small box on her lower back I had failed to notice. He tapped it a few times and a beep sounded. Then he turned back to the room.
“Ready,” he said.
I took three long steps and dived at Luciana. She hadn’t seen it coming and fell back into the wall as I smashed into her. On reflex, she fired a shot, but it hit the ceiling. Eleanor screamed. Jairo shouted—or maybe it was Rose; I couldn’t be sure. I put every bit of force I had into pushing Luciana’s head into the wall and I grabbed the rifle. I wrestled the gun out of her hands with more ease than I had expected. Maybe it was the adrenalin.
Jairo shouted and swore in Spanish. I pointed the rifle at him.
“Don’t fucking move,” I said.
Jairo froze. “Wait,” he said.
I didn’t wait. I turned the rifle to Andino and fired four times. I hit him in the chest twice, then the neck and then his head. He was flung backwards onto the sofa, pulling Eleanor— screaming—down, too.
“You fucking idiot,” shouted Rose.
I swiveled and leveled the gun at him. “What?”
Rose shook his head and muttered a curse.
Luciana was getting back up. I turned on her. “Get him out of those ties.”
She looked at me and then Rose.
I shouted, “Now!”
She went to the CIA agent and then looked for the keys.
I went to Eleanor. She was sitting down, her face splattered with Andino’s blood.
“Come on, honey,” I said. “Let’s get this shit off you.”
She cried great sobs. “Scott. It’s too late.”
I looked at the little box. We had less than a minute.
“There’s time,” I said, and went about checking the vest. Every part of it had been secured tightly with small titanium padlocks. There were twenty in total. I checked the timer.
Forty seconds.
I turned toward Jairo. “Bring a knife. Anything.”
He began rummaging through things on the tables.
I turned back to my wife. Eleanor. Despite everything, we’d stayed together. We had lost our newborn son and not got divorced. That was rare. I knew it and she knew it. But finding him had brought disaster.
I pulled with everything I had on the padlocks. But nothing gave. I checked the timer.
Twenty-five seconds.
“Run,” she said. “Get out of here.”
Behind me, Rose was struggling against his own ties still. Luciana had gone.
I shouted to Jairo, “Go! Take Rose. Throw him over. Keep him afloat.”
Jairo stared at me. For the first time I saw fear in his eyes. Real fear. Or maybe guilt. He’d have known that Andino would’ve killed us anyway.
I looked at the timer.
Fifteen seconds.
Eleanor, still cuffed to Andino’s bleeding corpse, couldn’t raise herself. I kissed her and felt our tears meet at the cheek.
“Go,” she said. “Find Estrella. There might be time.”
I shook my head. “No. I can’t leave you.”
She pushed me. “Go, Scott. Get out of here. It’s over for me.”
Behind me,
Jairo had lifted Rose onto his shoulder and was headed to the door.
“Come on,” he shouted back to me.
I looked into Eleanor’s eyes. “Go,” she said.
And I knew. Estrella. It was all about her. And without me she didn’t have a chance.
Eleanor pushed me again. “Go!”
I stepped back, ran for the door, opened it, and leapt over the barrier—without looking, without thinking—and felt air whip past my face and then water again.
I heard the explosion from beneath the surface. A muffled, ferocious boom. I swam under the water in the opposite direction.
When I broke the surface, the tower was aflame, pieces of metal and wood flying into the air and falling into the sea. The rain would extinguish the blaze after a while but it partly lit the scene now as the red and yellow flames reflected in the black sea. I trod water and watched the burning tower and cried hard.
The water around me swelled and rose and sank, oblivious to what drama had happened above it. I could not say how long I remained floating in the water like that, watching the tower in flames. It could have been hours, or minutes. But when I heard Jairo’s shouts, something inside me woke up.
I turned and looked for him, and saw him supporting Rose in a lifeguard hold. A large fragment of the old tower floated past me and I grabbed it, mounted it like a surfboard, and paddled over to Jairo. Luciana was next to him and Rose.
“Hold on,” I said, and they did.
We floated on the driftwood for hours, paddling slowly toward what we hoped would be the coast. But there was no land in sight. I was starting to pass out on the wood panel when I heard the rotors. Then Jairo shouted out. And we all looked up and saw it—a chopper, military, coming towards us.
My first thought was that Andino was somehow trying to finish the job from the grave, but as it got closer, a rope ladder dropped down. By this time, the rotors were cutting shapes into the water and spraying us. I looked up and saw a figure at the open door of the helicopter.
It was Agent Jean Santos.
“Come on,” she said. “I don’t have all fricking day here.”
We climbed up to the helicopter slowly. Rose needed more assistance than any of us due to his ties, but they cut him free and got him up, too. I didn’t care.
