The Santini Vendetta

by Christopher Fox

  Anna propped herself up on one elbow and looked deep into Kyle’s eyes. “Do not blame yourself, my love,” she said and kissed him tenderly on the cheek. “I love you, and I know now what I must do.”

  They got dressed and left the cabana, Anna reaching her hand for him.

  “Coming, my love?”

  Kyle accepted her hand and got up. They swaggered back to the hotel with their arms around each other in an affectionate embrace, not saying a thing. When they reached the beach gate, Anna reached up to kiss him.

  Kyle said between kisses, “What did you mean, ‘I know now what I must do’?”

  “Do not concern yourself my love,” she said tenderly, and gave him a passionate kiss, then ran to the parking lot sobbing.

  The following morning Kyle found a letter on his desk, which he knew was from Anna. It surprised him when he did not find her at her desk when he arrived, because she always liked to start work early, so she could get home to her family early. She had obviously been in already and prepared a letter. Kyle looked at it for several minutes before deciding to open it. Somehow he knew it to be a letter of resignation–of goodbye–and he really did not want to confirm his suspicions. He reached for the letter opener on his desk, slowly slit the envelope, retrieved the single folded manila sheet and opened it. It was printed on hotel letterhead. Kyle started to read:

  My dearest Kyle:

  I knew when I first met you I would fall in love with you. I found that I looked forward to going to work each day, just to see your smiling face. Just seeing you every day was destroying any hope of making my marriage work.

  If Don found out about us he would try to ruin you–he is not only abusive but also a very vindictive man. I must also consider my son, Alphonse, for he needs to grow up with his father. I can handle the abuse for now. I know that if I left Don, he and his family would take Alphonse, and that I couldn’t bear.

  I find I must now protect the ones I love–my son and you. I must therefore tender my resignation–effective immediately–for I cannot go on seeing you without wanting you close to me.

  Last night was wonderful–a night I will never forget for as long as I live.

  God speed my love.

  I love you dearly.

  Anna.

  A deep regret came over him as he re-read the letter over again several times, somehow hoping that it would say something different–but, of course, it didn’t. The thought of not seeing her again troubled him deeply. He suspected that the small round bubbling marks on the bottom of the letter were tear stains. He folded the letter and placed it in his desk drawer.

  Eight

  Playa Hermosa, Costa Rica. February, 2005

  As the weeks went by, Anna's departure played heavily on Kyle’s heart, more so than he ever imagined it would. True, he missed her at the hotel as his executive assistant, but he missed her more knowing she was gone from his life—an impossible love that now has ended. He looked around the hotel—at his life now without Anna—and began re-evaluating things. Was this what he really wanted? He had buyers seriously interested in the hotel and knew he could sell it to a major chain for a tidy sum and probably retire from the proceeds, but he was too young to retire. He had often considered buying a charter boat and setting up dive and fishing trips. The phone rang:

  “MacDonald,” he said.

  “It’s Alberto.”

  “Hi,” Kyle said a little curtly, not expecting to hear from him again. However, regardless of the recent incident and him being reluctantly involved, he had a certain respect for Alberto. He sympathized with the fact that as a child, the witnessing of the murder of his father caused a psychological stain that could only be erased with some form of restitution against the people responsible. He hoped that the death of Marco, the one who shot his father, would bring some consolation—and Alberto did let Sergio go.

  “We need to talk. Can I drop by and see you?”

  “Sure. What’s up?”

  “I’ll tell you when I get there. This afternoon around 3?”

  “I’ll be here,” Kyle said. “See you then.”

  Kyle naturally wondered what Alberto wanted to talk to him about, but realized that wondering would present no answer, so he put it to the back of his mind and waited until he got here.

  * * * *

  Alberto’s arrival was signified by the rumble of a large V8 that resonated through the building. Kyle suspected it was the Boss Mustang.

  “A Mr. Caporalos here to see you,” Kyle’s new assistant announced a few moments later.

  “Thanks. Show him in.”

  Kyle looked at the clock on his desk—it was 2:58.

  The assistant showed Alberto and another man into the office, but Kyle did not stand to greet them, nor did he offer his hand.

  “Didn’t expect to see you again,” Kyle said.

  “Likewise.”

  “So, what’s this all about?”

  “This is Alex, an associate of mine,” said Alberto.

  “Hi Alex,” Kyle said, still not attempting to shake his hand.

  “Hello,” said Alex.

  “They’ve kidnapped my mother,” Alberto blurted out.

  “What!”

  “The Santinis kidnapped my mother and say they will kill her if I don’t return the ten million.”

  Kyle’s face took on an expression of disbelief. “Shit,” he said as he sat back in his chair.

  “I’m sure they took her back to Chicago.”

  “So, what are you going to do?”

  “Most of the ten million is gone. I used it to pay off debts to the people who helped me stage Peppe’s abduction. I can’t get it back—at least not all of it.”

  “How long did they give you?”

  “Three days.”

  “I realise we are playing with your mother’s life and we don’t want to risk any harm—but it is in their best interest to get the money rather than carry out their threat. So, I suggest the first thing is to explain the situation to them—you have expended the money and it will take time to get it back—and ask for more time.”

  “I thought of that. How much time should I ask for?”

  “How much money is left?”

  “About four million in cash.”

  “Maybe show that as a sign of good faith, you will return one million in three days and another million every two days as long as you receive verification that no harm has been inflicted on your mother.”

  “Do you think they’ll go for that?”

  “You won’t know until you ask.”

  “But I can’t get it all back. We are merely prolonging the inevitable, that they will kill my mother.”

  “But it gives us time to find another solution.”

  “There is another solution.” Alberto said.

  “And what is that?” asked Kyle.

  “Go to Chicago and get her back.”

  Kyle took on a surprised look. “Are you serious?”

  “Absolutely. I don’t think there is another option,” Alberto said. “And there is something else…”

  “What?”

  “My mother has cancer—leukaemia. One reason I needed money is to pay for her stem cell treatment. It is very expensive—over $100,000—and not covered by the Costa Rica health plan. It is only done in Panama, so I took her there last week, but she needs medication and it is still at her home.”

  “So, they kidnapped her and she doesn’t have her medication?” Kyle asked.

  “Right.”

  Kyle sat in thought, stroking his chin.

  “How are you supposed to get the money to them?”

  “They are sending the plane down when I have it.”

  Kyle assessed all that had happened recently and it was clear to him that there was someone else involved in this.

  “You’re not doing this alone,” Kyle said. “Who is helping you?”

  Alberto looked bewildered.

 
“What do you mean?”

  “There is no way you could get all the help and support for the kidnapping without some assistance,” Kyle said.

  “I told you, there were many people helping me. People who were wronged by the Santinis.”

  “But many people aren’t people with the contacts and influence to pull off an operation like this. So, who is helping you?”

  Alberto sat back and placed his hands on his knees. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that.”

  “So,” Kyle said. “How do you plan to go about rescuing your mother? Do you know where they are holding her?”

  “Well… no,” he said. “But that is where you come in.”

  “Oh no, not again,” Kyle said holding up both hands, palms facing the men. “No bloody way.”

  “You are the only one who can do this… and there’s another hundred grand in it for you.”

  “What do you mean, I am the only one who can do this?”

  “Our plan involves uploading a spyware onto Lorenzo’s phone, but it has to be in Bluetooth range to do it and you are the only one he will trust to get close to him. Once you upload the spyware, we can trace his calls and the phone’s location. That is why Alex is here… he is a tech expert.”

  Kyle sat there pondering.

  Alberto’s face took on a pleading look, “It’s the only way we can save my mother. Please Kyle.”

  “That’s all you want me to do? Load up the software onto his phone?”

  “Yes, that’s all. We’ll do the rest.”

  Kyle pondered a moment more. He thought this was over and he neither had the time nor the inclination to become involved again. However, he would feel somewhat responsible if his reticence led to Alberto’s mother’s death.

  “OK,” Kyle reluctantly agreed.

  A relieved Alberto said, “Thanks Kyle. Thanks a lot,” as he stood and offered his hand. Kyle looked at it for a moment, then reached out and shook it.

  “The software is known as a cell spyware,” Alex explained as Kyle handed him his cell phone. “It uses Bluetooth to intercept the cell’s wireless signal and surreptitiously uploads a program onto the target phone. Once uploaded, any cell phone activity on the target phone will be duplicated on your phone: calls, text messages, websites, etc. We can also find where the phone is as all location information is discoverable.”

  “How do I get it onto his phone?”

  “It takes about a minute for the program to upload. When you are close to him, you need to access your phone and look for his phone in your Wi-Fi settings.”

  “How will I know it’s his phone?”

  “That depends on the number of phones in the area. It will, of course, pick up all phones transmitting a signal. Not a good idea in a restaurant or near many people.”

  “The meeting will probably be in his office, so I don’t expect a lot of phones.”

  “Make a ploy to access your phone—respond to a text, or whatever—then click on his Wi-Fi signature, open the app and upload. Then you can put the phone back in your pocket.”

  “OK, I think I’ve got that.” Kyle said.

  “Let’s do a dry run on my phone,” suggested Alex.

  Kyle followed the procedure and successfully uploaded the software on to Alex’s phone. Then Alex said:

  “Once it is done, I will be able to access the information from your phone. That way, I can track any number he calls.”

  “OK,” said Kyle.

  “We’re good to go then?” said Alberto.

  “When is this happening?” asked Kyle.

  “Not sure yet… I will let you know after I speak to Lorenzo.”

  * * * *

  Alberto called Lorenzo and nervously awaited for him to answer.

  “Lorenzo,” the gruff voice said.

  “It’s Alberto.”

  “Mr. Caporalos. Do you have my money?”

  “There is a problem with that, but I have a solution.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I distributed most of the money to friends and relatives who helped me put together your son’s kidnapping. It will take some time to get it back.”

  “You’re stalling,” Lorenzo said, but inwardly knew it to be the truth. It would take a lot of money to stage the operation he did—more money than a man in his position would likely have access to.

  “No,” said Alberto. “It’s the truth. I can pay you a million every two days as I get the money back.”

  “That’s twenty bloody days,” blurted Lorenzo. “I’m not waiting three weeks for my money.”

  “But I can’t guarantee I will get the money back sooner than that,” Alberto pleaded.

  “Tell you what, seeing as I’m a nice guy. I will accept half the money in two days and the other half a week later. That’s a better deal than I would give many of my other debtors.”

  Alberto realized, as is often the case in hostage situations, that any improvement in terms of payment is a victory. But he wasn’t finished negotiating because he couldn't raise five million.

  “I can get my hands on four million right away—I can send that. I can probably get another three by week’s end and the last three a week later.”

  Lorenzo pondered a while. He wanted this done sooner than two weeks. The longer you hold a hostage, the more issues can develop. He didn’t want to nursemaid Alberto’s mother any longer than necessary and he certainly didn’t want the terms dictated by Alberto. But, he was a business man and had to find the best way to get his money back, so asking the impossible would not serve either of their interests. In the past, Lorenzo had debtors killed for not meeting their obligations and made sure that he spread the news. Debtors will usually treat money they owe as a low priority, favouring essentials like food, shelter, medical payments, and family commitments—and sometimes drugs. With no incentive to pay, the mob would never get their money. Better to sacrifice a debt to show others the penalty for not paying. But this case was a little different as it did not involve local people and the sum of money was a lot higher than normal.

  “Deal,” Lorenzo said. “I will send the plane right away. Make sure the money is there when it arrives.”

  “It will be,” a relieved Alberto said. “Thanks. Now, can I talk to my mother?”

  “Just a minute,” he said, and the line went dead. After 30 seconds he heard his mother’s voice.

  “Alberto?” she said.

  “Mamá,” Alberto’s excited voice answered. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine,” she said. “They are treating me well.”

  “Don’t worry mamá, I will get you out of there as soon as possible. I need to raise money, and that will take time.”

  “That’s OK mi hijo, I know you will do your very best.”

  There was silence on the line and Alberto thought the call was dropped, but Lorenzo’s voice came on the line again.

  “Satisfied?”

  “Yes, thank you for not harming her.”

  “Make sure the money is on the plane. It will be at Tobias International at 2:00 p.m. tomorrow.”

  “It’ll be there.”

  * * * *

  Since owning the hotel, Kyle met many prominent Costa Ricans, one of which was the San José Chief of Police, Frederico Gomez. They had many long chats and Kyle maintained his discretion about the different women who would accompany him on each trip.

  Barely making five foot four with thick heels, Frederico Gomaz was vertically challenged, but was a very jovial character given to laughing out loud often. Despite his short build, he had very handsome features and disguised his mid-fifties age well. He was proud of his accomplishments to lure beautiful women to Kyle’s hotel for a few nights at a time. He would sit with Kyle and ask his opinion on each of them and Kyle enjoyed the game. During a lavish dinner Frederico would introduce his new belle to him, ordering “the best Champagne”, and then disappear to his room with his companion. After an hour or so he woul
d reappear and the two of them would drink on the beach while Frederico was getting his second wind, so he could go back and try another position. Kyle couldn’t help liking the guy.

  He called Frederico and at once recognized the thunderous roar at the other end of the line.

  “Kyle MacDonald. You old bastard. How in hell are you? Haven’t heard from you in ages,” he said jovially in excellent English. “Where the hell are you?”

  “I’m at the hotel. I have an issue I want to discuss with you.”

  “Sure. Anytime. Let’s meet for breakfast tomorrow.”

  “Sounds good. Julio’s at 9?”

  Julio’s was a diner restaurant that specialised in American-style food.

  “Sounds good. See you there.”

  Kyle severed the connection and pondered how Alberto would try a rescue attempt on his mother when he had no clue where she was. Chances are she was being held in a hotel somewhere, but the mob had so many properties they owned, she could be anywhere—and the clock was ticking.

  The phone rang and he picked it up.

  “Kyle. It’s Alberto.”

  “Any developments?”

  “I called Lorenzo and pleaded with him to give us the extra time. Surprisingly, he agreed to a stepped payment plan of $4m now, another $3m in a week and the final $3m the week after that. He also let me talk to Carmen, my mother.”

  “She’s OK?”

  “Scared, but OK. They seem to be treating her well.”

  “Any clues on where they are holding her?”

  “None at all.”