The Shaman

by David Nees

“I’ve got to go.”

  “Dan, congratulations. I’m glad you’re alive. And, please, come back to us…to me.”

  “I will,” Dan replied and hung up the phone.

  After Dan hung up, Jane called Henry. “Henry, let’s meet at our usual spot this morning before going in to work. I have something to discuss with you.”

  In an hour they were sitting at a booth in the rear of the diner.

  “Dan took out Ortega and destroyed the mansion. He’s devastated the cartel. There’s no one below Ortega that can step up. Any control Ortega set up will now be gone.”

  Henry gave out an appreciative whistle. “How the hell did he pull that off? It will be chaos…open warfare between gangs,” Henry replied. “The Sinaloa cartel will assume it was a hit by another gang. They will suspect the Los Zetas, or Tijuana cartels.”

  “They’ll be at each other’s throats, looking for revenge, new territory, new smuggling routes.”

  “You know we’ve unleashed a bloodbath.”

  Jane stared down at her coffee. “I know. It’s what we aimed to do.” She paused. “And it will catch civilians.” She looked up. “But it will interrupt the drug flow. And, remember, Dan also took out sixty terrorists heading to the U.S.”

  Henry looked at her, his face displayed no emotion. It was undecipherable. “I know. It’s just a shame there are always civilian casualties.”

  Jane changed the subject. “Dan says we should get some of our people down there to the mansion along with DEA agents and any honest Mexican officials.”

  Henry looked at her now with a quizzical expression on his face.

  “He says there’s about twenty million in cash in the basement that will survive the fire. It needs to stay out of the hands of the cartel.”

  “I can make that happen.” Henry shifted into action mode. “Are we exfiltrating him?”

  “No, he doesn’t trust the process.”

  “Did you make any headway on who planted the bugs?”

  “Fred is whittling a long list down. We’ll have maybe twenty or more suspects when he’s done.”

  Henry got up and put some money on the table. “Good. Let’s get going.” He took out his phone and started making calls before they were out of the diner.

  When Jane got to work, she received a call from Rodrigo. “When are you going to get us out? The cartel is closing in.”

  Jane outlined how a car would pick them up tomorrow and drive them to the Texas border. They would have U.S. passports and the car and driver would have diplomatic credentials so they would breeze through customs.

  “Where will we cross?”

  “Nuevo Laredo”

  “Have them pick us up in Monterrey. We’ll be in Fundidora Park, in front of the shiny metal ball. The road runs right past it. Ten o’clock. We’ll be waiting on a park bench by the road.”

  “You’re not in San Luis Potosi?”

  “No. We had to move.” With that he hung up.

  Emilio “The Snake” arrived in Monterrey the same morning as Rodrigo placed his call to Jane. He had already contacted the cartel members and told them to scour the hotels for a man, woman, and young girl who might have checked in during the last two days. That evening he met with the local leader and got a list of a dozen hotels that had received such guests. He told the man to mobilize his men and check all the hotels.

  “We must find them tonight. Tomorrow may be too late.”

  If they found Rodrigo they were to capture him. Hector wanted information and then he wanted Emilio to kill all of them in a very gruesome way. He wanted their heads on poles and on display in Chihuahua City.

  Rodrigo turned to Miranda after speaking with Jane. “Tomorrow we will be entering the U.S.”

  She ran to him and hugged him. “Thank you Rodrigo.” Her tears said the rest.

  “Yes but now we have to make a new life in a new country. You will have to learn English, along with Solana. And I, I don’t know what I’ll do. I don’t want to be a brick layer or gardener for some rich gringo.”

  Miranda grabbed his face in her hands. “You can help the U.S. government fight against the drugs. That is what you know. That’s how you can help.”

  Rodrigo looked serious. “That’s dangerous work.”

  Miranda kept smiling and holding Rodrigo’s face. “But I’ll bet it pays well. And you are not afraid of dangerous work.”

  “That is what Steve said, ‘milk the government as a consultant’.”

  “I wonder if we’ll see him again. I didn’t like him at first. I thought he meant nothing but trouble for us. But he helped us in the end.”

  “He was nothing but trouble for us. But he saved my life. I would have died in the desert except for him.” Rodrigo went silent as he thought about the other events in that story. “And that shaman, Tlayolotl and his raven. They frightened me.”

  “Tell me what happened to the others. What happened before the gringo found you.”

  Rodrigo recounted the chase, the insurrection of the men and the final rush through the desert ending in the crash. He told how he alone escaped and walked, finally going in circles until he was near death. Then Dan showed up with a coyote and a raven.

  Miranda listened wide-eyed. “What happened to the men who went west?”

  “They probably died. There was no hope in going in that direction.”

  “And now we’re on the run because you helped the gringo.”

  “I had to. The shaman would have killed me and cursed my spirit if I didn’t help. There was no choice.” He shook his head as if to clear it. “It is good we are going. There is no place for me here now.”

  Late that night Rodrigo was awakened by some shouting in the lobby. He went to the door and listened. Men were shouting questions at the desk clerk. It sounded to Rodrigo like they wanted to know the room number of a man, woman, and girl that had checked in recently. On hearing that, Rodrigo ran to the night table next to the bed and took out his .45. He shook Miranda to wake her.

  “Get up. Some men are here. They’re after us.”

  “Who?” She asked sleepily.

  “Cartel men. Wake Solana, we have to leave now.”

  Miranda went to the other bed and woke her daughter. “Hurry, get dressed and pack your things, we have to go now.”

  “Just put your clothes on, there is no time to pack,” Rodrigo said.

  He went to the window and opened it. It opened on to an alley. They were eight feet off the ground. As soon as the women were dressed he had Solana climb out of the window and he held her arms and let her down until she was only two feet off the ground. Then he did the same with Miranda. Finally Rodrigo climbed out and dropped to the pavement.

  “This way,” he whispered and they ran down the alley away from the front of the building.

  They were around the corner before the men burst into the room. Seeing the window they looked out but there was nothing to see. The men ran back to the lobby and out the front door. By the time they got down the alley, Rodrigo and the two women were two blocks away and still running.

  It was late but people were still out on the streets. Rodrigo led his family running through the streets until they got to a busy street where he could hail a taxi. After they climbed in he sat back, his chest heaving.

  When the others had also caught their breath, Miranda asked if he was sure the men were after them.

  “Did we just leave our belongings behind for nothing?”

  Rodrigo gave her a sharp look of reproach. “Don’t doubt that the men were after us. Escape is only for those who act quickly. If we had stayed to talk about the situation or pack our bags we would have been captured. And you don’t want to know what would have happened to us then.” He shuddered.

  “How did they find us?” Miranda asked.

  “Some of the men knew we had family in Torreón.”

  “You mean they came to Tía Milagros’ house?” There was an hysterical tone in Miranda’s voice.

  Rodrigo nodded.
“Maybe.”

  “Oh my God,” Miranda exclaimed. “Poor Tía Milagros. Will they kill her?”

  “I hope not. She must have told them. That is why they are looking for us here. I hope they let her live.”

  “God help us,” Miranda wailed. “How will we get out?”

  “They don’t know where we are meeting our ride. And they don’t know when. We just have to hide for the night and then be at the park tomorrow.”

  “Where will we go tonight?” Miranda asked.

  “We can’t go to a hotel, they will call the cartel. We can’t go to the police either. Let me think.”

  He had his .45 in his pants and his pockets were still stuffed with the fifty grand he had taken from the house. It was for this reason he hadn’t left the money in his backpack. In his pants, it would always be with him. He leaned forward to speak to the driver.

  “How much do you want to park your cab for the night and go home to your wife?”

  “Why do you ask?” the driver responded.

  “We need to stay the night in your cab. You take the keys. We are not going to steal it. I will pay you for the night.”

  “That would be very expensive, mí amigo.”

  “How expensive?”

  The driver thought about how much he could get out of this situation. He might make only the equivalent of fifty dollars in a night, but this request offered the possibility of more.

  “I will do it for five hundred dollars.”

  “Okay. Drive to a parking garage and I’ll pay you.”

  The driver did as Rodrigo asked while wondering if he shouldn’t have asked for more. They were on the run, from a gang it sounded like to him; a gang that had connections all through the city. It was one of the cartels. Maybe he could make some more money out of this by selling them some information.

  When the taxi was parked, Rodrigo pulled out five one hundred dollar bills and gave them to the cab driver. The man nodded and walked off.

  “Are we safe now?” Solana asked.

  “Not quite yet,” Rodrigo replied. He got out and got into the front seat. He took out his knife and jammed it into the ignition switch. The knife wrecked the lock and he was able to turn the ignition and start the car. He backed out of the space and exited the garage.

  “When we change locations we’ll be safe,” he said to Solana. “If the driver thinks to sell us out for more money, we won’t be here when they come.”

  “That may be bad for the driver,” Miranda said.

  “It will serve him right,” Rodrigo replied. “In the morning we will take a bus to the park and be gone by 10 am.”

  Chapter 49

  ___________________________________

  A fter burying the remains of his men in the desert, Tariq had been driven to Veracruz and from there he had flown out of the country. On the drive to the port town, he called Rashid al-Din Said to report the killing of the terrorists.

  “This is very unfortunate,” were the only words Rashid spoke about the incident. “I will have someone meet you when you arrive in Karachi.”

  “I can refund some of the money you gave. It is not all spent.”

  “The money is not important. The failure of the mission is. We will talk further when you arrive.”

  Tariq was left with a cold knot in his stomach. This failure could mean his death. Rashid was not a man who allowed for much failure in those who worked for him.

  After layovers in Houston, Frankfurt, and Dubai, he arrived some thirty-five hours later in Karachi. Tired and unkempt, Tariq was met by two serious looking Arabs in dark business suits. They loaded him in their car and proceeded to drive to the Gulshan E-Sekandarabad section of the city. As before, the labyrinth of streets confused Tariq. He was uncomfortable. Would Rashid eliminate him in order to send a message to others? Tariq had proven useful, even if this venture had ended in failure. Bitterly he thought that was not his fault but that of the cartel leaders. Jorge had not wanted to deal with him and Hector liked him even less. Then Jorge got killed and things had come undone.

  But who had blown up the trucks? Could it have been the people who killed Jorge? Was it the work of rival gangs? Tariq shook his head as if to clear his jet-lagged mind. It didn’t matter in the end. His handpicked and trained infiltrators were dead. He had buried their remains in the desert and left Mexico. The mission failed and now he would face the consequences.

  They arrived at the same non-descript entrance. Tariq was frisked for weapons and two other men silently led him up the staircase. The lead escort knocked gently on the door.

  “Udkhul,” came the response.

  Tariq was escorted inside. This time no dinner was set out. Rashid sat across the room in an overstuffed chair. He motioned Tariq to a smaller chair across from him.

  “Tell me what happened.” Rashid looked at Tariq with a calm expression. His black eyes gave away nothing.

  Tariq explained how the trip went well and how the men spent a week recovering in Chihuahua at a warehouse compound owned by Jorge Mendoza. But that week had stretched into three weeks with no explanation. He was relegated to dealing with Hector Ortega, Jorge’s second in command. Only later, Tariq explained, did he find out that Jorge, along with some other gang leaders, had been assassinated. When Hector had settled things down, he ordered the men to be delivered to the border but the morning they were to leave, the trucks were blown up, killing everyone.

  “And you weren’t killed.”

  “No Sayyid. I was not going with them to the border. I planned to complete my dealings with Hector and then depart.”

  “Who killed Jorge?”

  “Some say it was the Americans, some say another gang.”

  “Did the same people blow up the trucks?”

  “No one knows for sure, but I suspect it is so.”

  “Who would know about the trucks and our fighters besides Jorge and this Hector?” Rashid’s dark eyes bore into Tariq.

  He shrugged. “I have no idea.” The answer felt dangerously inadequate. “Other gang members knew. Maybe there was a traitor among them who spoke to another gang.”

  “Or, if it was the Americans, someone spoke to them.”

  Tariq nodded. His body slumped.

  “So the Americans may know about this attempt.”

  Tariq nodded again.

  “And they may know about you?”

  Tariq looked up at Rashid. Fear showing in his eyes. He didn’t answer.

  “Do you agree that is a possibility?”

  Finally Tariq nodded. “Yes,” he said; his voice barely audible.

  “This is not good. First you fail, then you may be exposed and our work thus exposed.”

  “This was always a risk, Sayyid. We know the Americans are listening everywhere and have many sources of information. It was worth the attempt. Next time we will not fail.” Tariq leaned forward. “We can do this on our own. We don’t need the cartel to smuggle our men. We can rent the trucks, a warehouse and deliver the men to the border ourselves. And we can make money from the drugs. The cartels are hungry for our product. They cannot get enough.”

  “The Americans cannot get enough.”

  Tariq nodded in agreement, his hopes rising.

  “But that will take time. You have been there, but you may not have the skills for this. Perhaps you are best suited for the mountains and caves.”

  “I am a warrior for Allah. I will serve wherever I can be useful.”

  Now Rashid leaned forward and riveted Tariq with his eyes. “Can you be useful? Can I make good use of you, for our cause? If the Americans have identified you, then you may lead them to our work…to me.”

  “Never! I was not identified. How would anyone know me except for Jorge and Hector?”

  “I don’t know. But it worries me.”

  “I would never betray our cause, Sayyid.”

  “No. Not knowingly.” Rashid waved his hand in dismissal. “Go, rest for now. We will speak later about your future.”

&nbs
p; Tariq stood. He wanted to say more, but he couldn’t find the words. There was nothing more to say. With his head bowed he went out the door in between the two large men.

  They drove to a large landfill. It was night. There they had Tariq kneel down and say his prayers. When he finished, one of them shot him through the head. They wrapped his body in a cloth and bundled it in the trunk. They drove the body to a mosque in the Manghaphir district and laid him near the door. They pinned an envelope with a note in it giving Tariq’s name and instructions to bury him as a devout Muslim. In the envelope was a thousand dollars.

  Back in his apartment, Rashid closed up his computer, packed his bags, and dismissed his staff. He was closing the apartment and everyone would leave, to disappear into Karachi, or travel back to Saudi Arabia with Rashid. He would find another path into the U.S. He would continue with the drugs and make another attempt to smuggle terrorists into the U.S. If the cartels were unreliable, he would do it with his own operatives. The fight would go on. Tariq was just a setback along the way.

  Chapter 50

  ___________________________________

  D an took one of his burner phones and called Jane. He was driving north towards Monterrey.

  “Do you still have a burner phone so we can talk?” he said when she answered.

  “I’ll call your number right back. I have one.”

  “Good.” Dan hung up and his phone rang a minute later.

  “Where are you now?” Jane asked when Dan answered.

  “Heading north out of Mexico City.”

  “Can I arrange someone to get you out?”

  “You asked that before and the answer is still no. I’ll find my own way across. Once on the U.S. side I’ll be fine.”

  “If you carry your weapons back with you they could be a problem if you are stopped.”

  “I know, but I hate to abandon them, especially the Barrett MRAD.”

  “It’s not worth it.”

  “Well I’m going to have to bring in at least one weapon. I’m not going unarmed, so, in for a dime, in for a dollar.”