The Mexican Connection: Ted Higuera Series Book 3

by Pendelton Wallace

  The panther came from out of nowhere. It was all claws and fangs. The gunmen didn’t have time to react. The big cat was among them, clawing, biting and shoving them to the ground.

  A few random shots echoed from the barrels of their rifles, but they were aimed at nothing.

  It was over in seconds. The gunmen lay, torn and bloodied on the ground. The cat turned and looked at Ted. Its yellow eyes seemed to glow. Again, Ted felt he could read the cat’s thoughts.

  You are safe now, little brother.

  The cat turned and disappeared into the gardens.

  Ted, Chris and the rest were stunned. They stood, slack jawed, trying to piece together what had just happened.

  Yves recovered first and grabbed Guillermo off of the ground and dragged him towards the garage, pistol at his head.

  “We will meet again, Higuera. I will not rest until I am done. You know where to find me.”

  Ted and the others stood and watched as Yves backed up to the van. The door slid open and Yves climbed in and pulled Guillermo in after him. “Au revoir, mes amis.” The automatic door opened to the street.

  Madame Trufaunt hit the gas pedal and the van roared out of the complex.

  Chapter 31

  Mexico City

  The National Museum of Anthropology didn’t awe Ted this time. He was on a mission from God. He flew through the stone umbrella covered courtyard to the Aztec exhibit. Without pausing, he went through the door marked sólo personal autorizado (authorized personnel only).

  Down the hall to Doctora Gonzales office, he hardly took a breath. He didn’t knock on the door, he just burst in.

  Maria Gonzales sat at her desk with two ancient tomes open. In front of her a plate of quesadillas sat amid a jumble of papers and books and she held a bottle of Jarrito orange soft drink in her hand.

  “¿Que pasa?” she blurted out. “Oh, Ted.”

  “Maria, I need your help.” His heart beat a little faster when he looked into her blue eyes. “My brother’s in big trouble.

  “Sit down.” She gestured to the uncomfortable steel chair on the other side of her common garden variety desk. Her movements seemed to flow like some thick liquid. “What happened?”

  “He’s been kidnapped. The man who took him is a psychopath. He says he’s going to sacrifice Guillermo at the next full moon. He said something about ancient Aztec rituals.”

  “I just happened to be reading a firsthand account of the Aztec culture.” She carefully turned the ancient book around so that Ted could see it. “This is Bernal Diaz. The Conquest of New Spain. It was written by one of Cortez’ captains.”

  The book seemed old and fragile. Ted didn’t want to touch the delicate pages. “What does it say about human sacrifices? Yves said he was going to kill Guillermo in the same way the Aztec’s made their sacrifices.”

  “Oh my God!” Maria pushed her black rimmed glasses up her nose. “You’re not serious?”

  Ted just stared at her.

  “You are!” Maria took a moment to compose herself. “Let me summarize the Aztec religion for you.” She sat back in her chair.

  “The Aztecs believed that the world ran in a series of fifty-two-year cycles. At the end of each cycle, the universe would collapse if the gods weren’t strong enough. It was up to the humans to feed the gods. And the gods… were nourished by human blood.” Doctor Gonzales stopped for a second to let that sink in.

  “Every fifty-two years, a special New Fire ceremony was held. All fires were extinguished and at midnight a human sacrifice was made. The sacrifice was made under the light of a full moon.

  “If the sun appeared in the morning, the sacrifices were deemed as sufficient, and a fire was reignited on the body of the sacrifices. Then it was taken from house to house to start the new fifty-two year cycle, meaning the end of the world had been postponed.”

  “Yves said something about tearing Guillermo’s heart out,” Ted said.

  “Yes, the victims were drugged. They probably didn’t feel anything. Most of them went willingly to their deaths. They were promised a place in the highest level of their heaven as sacrifices. They would meet personally with the gods to whom they were given.

  “Four priests held their arms and legs as they were draped over a stone altar. Then the high priest used an obsidian knife to cut out the heart. He would take a few bites of the still beating heart, then burn it in a stone bowl in front of the idol of the god.”

  “Jesus, do you think Yves knows about all of this?”

  Maria pulled off her glasses and looked him in the eyes. “Ted from what you’ve said he seems to be well informed.”

  “Then he’ll do this at the next full moon. When is that?”

  “It must be soon, the moon looked almost full last night.” Maria turned to her computer and punched in a few key strokes. “Here it is, day after tomorrow.”

  “We’ve got to move fast.” Ted went to stand when he noticed the other book on Maria’s desk.

  “What’s that?” He pointed to the picture of a giant jaguar attacking a group of Indians.

  “Oh, I’ve been doing some research on the Aztec gods. This is a book about Tlaloc.”

  “Tlaloc?” Ted asked. “I remember my dad talking about him. Wasn’t he the rain god?”

  “Yes, and a lot more. He was the brother of Quetzalcoatl. He was one of the four primary gods. The Aztecs had a hierarchy of gods. There were Quetzalcoatl, Tlaloc, Tezcatlipoca and Huitzilopochtli at the top and a whole host of other gods below them.”

  “So, what’s with the picture of the jaguar?”

  “Tlaloc was a shape shifter. He came to earth as either a man or a panther. Many of the Aztec emperors beseeched his aid and sacrificed to him because he protects special humans. If you’re one of his chosen, the panther will appear when you’re in danger.”

  ****

  Zona Histórico, Mexico City

  “What do you think?” Ted asked.

  Chris sat on the edge of his bed. “I don’t know, Ted, so far, every official we’ve run into in Mexico is corrupt. That police commandant in Juarez, the Army. I don’t think we can trust any of them.”

  Ted paced back and forth in front of the window. In the courtyard beyond a middle aged couple sat under the palapa, drinks in hand. A family with two young children in tow carried their baggage towards the front desk. Nothing seemed out of place and yet his world had gone completely mad.

  “Colonel Lazaro seemed like he was on the up and up.” Ted turned back to Chris. “He has a reputation for being honest. Look how he’s cleaned up the police in Juarez.”

  “Yeah, but look at Comandante Ortega. He reports directly to Lazaro and he’s as crooked as a dog’s hind leg.”

  "Still, we’re gonna need some help.” Ted walked across the room to a large pottery barrel with a spigot at the bottom. He filled a glass with cool water. “Teotihuacán is a huge place. We’re gonna have to search miles of ruins.”

  “Ted.” Chris got up and walked to his friend. “If what you learned today is true, we’re not going to have to search anything.” He put his hand on Ted’s shoulder. “Yves will be at the Pyramid of the Sun. That’s what your doctor said.”

  Ted moved away from Chris. “IF she’s right. If she isn’t, then we’ve got a hell of a haystack to search through.”

  "What did Cat say?”

  Ted hesitated. “I haven’t told her yet. You know her, she’s a cowboy. She wants to do everything by herself. She doesn’t trust anyone.”

  “My take on the lady is that she generally knows what she’s doing.” Chris rifled through his bag and found the box of .38 caliber ammunition. “If you already know what she thinks, isn’t that a pretty strong indicator of what we should do?” He tossed the box to Ted.

  Ted filled the side pockets of his light jacket with bullets. “No. I’ve got a gut feeling on this one. I really think we should call Colonel Lazaro, he can get us the help we need.”

  “Well, you better make up your mind fast. We
have to get rolling. It’s over an hour’s drive to Teotihuacan.”

  ****

  Peaceful Valley, Montana

  Juan Diaz, also known as El Cuchillo (The Knife) was an old man at twenty seven. He had been working for El Lobo for ten years. The fact that he was still alive was a testament to his skills.

  Why he needed four men to find and capture a little girl he didn’t know. This should be a job for one man. Get in quick, grab the girl and get out. Instead, “El Lobo” sent him up here with enough firepower to equip a small army.

  The Dodge van rolled smoothly up the two-lane road. It hadn’t taken long for “El Cuchillo” to find out where the gringo lived and it couldn’t have looked easier. A lonely ranch in a quiet valley, far away from witnesses, he liked it.

  Not that witnesses mattered much. Los Norteños did what they wanted when they wanted. Witnesses were of no concern. If someone was stupid enough to testify against El Lobo, they soon disappeared. If they couldn’t be gotten to, then their families disappeared.

  “Joaquin, stop here.” El Cuchillo put down his road map. “The rancho should be just around the corner. I don’t want them to see us coming.”

  Joaquin Velasquez pulled the van off the road and turned off the engine. The five men inside got out. While Joaquin and his amigos opened the back of the van and checked their weapons, Juan slunk forward with binoculars in his hand.

  One of the nice things about this part of the country was all the trees and brush. Everything was green, a far cry from his native Chihuahua where the desert was an unending brown. Here he had cover. He could move about without any danger of being spotted.

  He snuck quietly among the trees until he had a clear view of the ranch house. There it was, a couple of hundred yards away, on top of a small hill. There were several outbuildings around the house; however, there was too much open space. They would have to make their attack at night. Not that it would matter that much; he was confident their firepower could easily overcome any resistance that these farmers might offer.

  ****

  “Harvey, what do you have to report?” Chad clicked the talk button on his walkie-talkie. He got no response.

  “Tom, you there?”

  “Roger that, Chad.”

  “I’m not getting anything from Harvey.” Chad felt the palms of his hands moisten. “You wanna mosey on over to his post and see what’s up?”

  “10-4. I’ll get back to you in five.”

  ****

  “Okay, cabrón, where is the leettle girl?” El Cuchillo slid the knife around Harvey Wilkinson’s chin. A thin line of blood appeared and Harvey winched.

  “Don’t know. I already told you.”

  El Cuchillo, on his knees next to Harvey, who was lashed to the trunk of a tree, leaned back on his heels. “I theenk you do know. I theenk that you weel tell me. I theenk that you want to live. Is that not so?”

  Harvey’s brown eyes bored into El Cuchillo, but he didn’t answer.

  “What are these people to you, amigo?” El Cuchillo cut the buttons off of Harvey’s shirt. “Why should you be weeling to give your life for them? Make no mistake, if you don’t tell me what I want to know, I will keel you. And it won’t be painless. When I’m through, you’ll be begging me to put you out of your misery.”

  Harvey gulped.

  El Cuchillo sliced Harvey’s undershirt open, then traced a cross on his chest in blood. Harvey screamed.

  “That is not smart, amigo.” El Cuchillo put his hand over Harvey’s mouth. “You scream, you breeng your friends down here, we weel have to keel them, and it won’t save you.”

  Harvey spat in El Cuchillo’s eye. El Cuchillo backhanded him.

  “Baboso, I am through playing with you. Now I get serious.”

  El Cuchillo unbuckled Harvey’s jeans. He pulled them down around his ankles, then cut away his white briefs.

  “You understand what I’m doing? When you finally do answer me, you will be singing soprano. No?”

  “W . . . wait . . .” Harvey stammered.

  El Cuchillo inserted his knife under Harvey’s scrotum. “Yes, you want to talk now?”

  “The hills . . .” Harvey gasped. “They took to the hills.”

  “The hills . . . what does this mean?”

  “The three of them, Mr. and Mrs. Hardwick took the girl. They packed up the horses and headed into the hills. I don’t know where they went.”

  “That’s good. You are being honest with me. Now I weel thank you.” El Cuchillo plunged his knife into Harvey’s heart.

  Chapter 32

  Peaceful Valley, Montana

  “Mr. Easton, you better get out here, pronto.” The short burst from Chad’s radio didn’t have to say who was calling or where he was. Chad knew instantly.

  He hopped on his ATV and flew to the observation station they set up by the road. Tom was waiting for him, waving his flashlight.

  “It’s Harvey, Mr. Easton. Someone got to him.”

  Tom flashed his light on Harvey’s corpse, Chad gasped at the sight. Harvey was tied to a tree, his clothes were cut up, and blood covered his chest. Chad had seen his share of death in the Corps, but nothing like this. Harvey’s genitals were stuffed in his mouth.

  ****

  “Mr. Hardwick, It’s not good. They were here last night. They got Harvey. They didn’t try to attack the house. He musta told ‘em that you weren’t here. All’s I can think is that they’re comin’ after you on the trail.”

  “Shit.” Harry put down his tin cup of coffee and stood. He tried to muffle the sound coming from his radio, but knew that Candace and Kayla could hear. “How is Harvey?”

  “He’s dead; he was stabbed in the heart. Doc says he died instantly.”

  “My God. Has anyone notified his family yet?”

  “Sheriff Whitefeather will take care of that. I’m more worried about you.”

  “Do something for me, Chad.” Harry couldn’t contain himself; he paced back and forth in front of the campfire. “Ask the sheriff to tell his family . . . I’ll cover all of his funeral expenses. It isn’t much, but it’s the least I can do . . . for now.”

  “I’m gettin’ the boys together. The sheriff’s formin’ a posse. We’re gonna track those sons a bitches, Mr. Hardwick. We’ll find out where they went.”

  “I know where they went.” Harry kicked at the fire. “They’re coming here.”

  “That’s where we’ll start lookin’. They’re gonna need supplies. Horses. Someone around here will have word of ‘em.”

  ****

  “We got a real-life emergency on our hands.” Sheriff Whitefeather, a sixtyish man with deeply tanned skin and gray hair pulled back into a pony tail, spoke into his cell phone. “I need a chopper. We got a murder scene here, the second today, and I need to track the perpetrators.”

  The sheriff stood in the yard of a small farm, about five miles west of the Hardwick Ranch. Two patrol cars were parked next to his Jeep. Chad Easton sat in the saddle of his ATV.

  “Okay, thank you. Keep me informed.”

  The sheriff turned to Chad. “That was the National Guard. They’ll have a chopper in the air within the hour.”

  “It bad in there, Charlie?” Chad asked.

  “Yeah . . .” Sheriff Whitefeather let out a huge sigh. “Tom and Diana, both killed with a knife. Bobby and Jack are critical. We got a Med-Evac chopper on the way.”

  “Either of the boys able to tell you anything?”

  “No, they’re both unconscious. Lost a lot of blood.” The sheriff shook his head in dismay. “What kind of animal would do this? And why?”

  “Well,” Chad said. “We know there’s some horses missin’. I think they had four or five. What about stores? Did they rifle the Freeman’s pantry?”

  “Can’t really tell. Nothing in the house looks too disturbed.” The sheriff walked over to his Jeep and picked up the radio microphone. “Angie, this is Charlie, you copy?”

  “Go ahead, Sheriff.”

  “C
all everyone in. Call up the sheriff’s posse. We need at least a dozen riders. We’re going into the back country.”

  “Already done, Sheriff. Johnny’s doing the calling now.”

  The sheriff turned back to Chad. “He’s already calling the posse together.”

  “My boys are saddlin’ up now.” Chad stepped off of his ATV and walked over to the sheriff. “We’ll have half a dozen riders here in an hour.”

  “The National Guard’ll start looking for them from the air. We’ll follow their track on the ground and I’m gonna call my cousin. Willie is the best tracker I know.”

  ****

  Teotihuacán, Mexico

  The highway from Mexico City to Teotihuacán was a modern road. The Explorer chewed up the miles and in about an hour, they saw what looked like two mountain peaks soaring up from the valley floor.

  “That’s them,” Ted’s heart rate sped up. “That’s the pyramids.”

  “My God, Teddy, they’re huge,” Hope said, cuddled up next to Chris in the back seat.

  “At first I thought they were mountains,” Jeff said.

  The archeological site was a major tourist attraction, but it was evening. The sun dipped below the western mountain range, painting the sky a brilliant vermillion. They found the gates on the parking lot locked and the shops and stands closed for the evening.

  “Let’s drive around and get the lay of the land before it gets too dark,” Catrina said. “We’ll be ready to go before the moon rises.”

  The site was enormous. Covering more than eleven and a half square miles it had once been the home to a quarter of a million people, but was disserted when the Spaniards arrived.

  The ciudadela, or center of the city, is centered around a broad boulevard called the Avenue of the Dead. The entire site is surrounded by high, thick stone walls.

  Catrina parked the Explorer in a copse of trees and the five unloaded their weaponry. Hardly a word was spoken. Catrina and Jeff donned their Kevlar vests, the others went au naturel. Something about the ancient site inspired a kind of awe and reverence. Ted felt like he was preparing to assault a church.