by Karina Halle
Unfortunately for them, the circle was stopping here.
I watched the two of them for a moment while scoping out the shadows. Este had to be downstairs with Alana, which made things a lot trickier in the long run but at least here these two would be easier to deal with that way.
I decided to go for the woman first. I didn’t want to kill if I didn’t have to but she looked like she liked to scream, in bed and another wise. I’d take her out first and then deal with him.
I moved to the back of the kitchen and then slinked inside at a low crouch, hiding behind the kitchen island. They were on the white sofas, doing their lines off the coffee table. His back was to me, her face was facing my direction.
I popped my head up, waiting until she saw me, the recognition popping in her eyes, then I threw the switchblade. It sailed straight and true through the air and hit here right in the eye socket, lodging itself deep into her brain.
She gurgled and then keeled over just as the man was springing to his feet, ready to fight.
I was ready to fight too.
I leaped up onto the kitchen island, picked up a bottle of wine and broke the end of it off while he tried to tackle my legs. I jumped up again, out of his grasp and brought the jagged end of the bottle down on the top of his head. It dug into his skin and he yelled but he was a tough cookie.
I landed on the ground and rolled away to the couched, yanking the knife out of the woman’s eye and then throwing at the man but he was already ducking behind the couch back. The knife landed hard into a wood post instead.
I jumped at the man and made a few punches which he blocked, then he tried to swipe me out from my feet. I twisted backward and ducked as he came at me, then I plowed forward at an angle until he was rammed back over the couch.
While he was falling over, I spun around and plucked the knife from the wall. This time I wasn’t going to throw it, this time I was going to stab it in him with my bare hands.
The guy quickly balanced himself and picked up the couch cushion right as I came at him and sliced the cushion all the way through, the air exploding into a show of feathers. I kept coming at him until my shoulder was shoving him down and he landed on his back on the coffee table, the glass shattering.
He managed to pick up one of the shards and with bleeding fingers, cut open the side of my arm. I brought my knee down into his groin which bought me a moment of stability before I was able to chop into the side of his elbow on one of the arms that was trying to hold me back.
He cried out, arm buckling, then I put my weight on it until it twisted with a crack underneath.
While he struggled for purchase, I headbutted him until his head cracked against the table again, then I quickly dragged the blade across his throat, leaving it an open, gushing wound. His eyes rolled back, his body jerking, trying to fight, to live, but not today.
“I should have known.”
Esteban’s voice from behind made me leap up and pivot, knife held out.
He, naturally, was holding a gun.
But that didn’t mean I would lose.
“Where’s Alana?” I asked loudly, hoping she could hear me.
He smirked and with one hand brushed his long hair behind his ears. “She’s going to be out for a while. I don’t think she’s as strong as you’d believe. In fact, she broke much like a flower between my hands.”
I swallowed down the rage that threatened to consume me. This is why I was good at what I did. I had to compartmentalize. I had to focus on the task at hand before I could focus on her.
I had to kill Esteban.
Even though he was going to kill me first.
“This works out in my favor though,” he said, coming toward me, the gun still trained on me and just out of reach. He reached for the wall and pressed a button and the back of the boat shuddered and clanked. He was lowering one of the zodiacs to the water. “I’ll get to go back to the compound and tell Javier the sad truth. You were hired to assassinate his sister. It worked. But you both perished. Perhaps I even tried to save her life by killing you.”
I kept my eyes on him, trying to figure out what to do. If he came just a step closer, there was the off chance I could fly at him and knock it out of his hands before he fired. He wasn’t a very good shot to begin with.
But he didn’t come closer. In fact, he was moving a step backward and from the way his eyes were focused on my chest, I knew that if he missed he would fire until he didn’t.
There was too much pride in him to lose again.
“I hope you’ve atoned for your sins,” he said to me with a small smile. “Sadly, you’ll find no redemption here.”
He fired the first shot. I was already twisting sideways as he did so, anticipating his move. But the next shot would be too fast for me.
Everything went in slow motion. He grinned. Finger tightened on the trigger.
Then Alana appeared behind him. She looked broken, battered and beaten, close to death. But she was holding the base of a lamp, holding it above his head.
She brought it down with one brave burst of strength, her bruised features straining from the effort. My heart strained in response.
It shattered on Esteban’s head just as he pulled the trigger. The second shot grazed me, hitting the side of my chest and knocking me back to the ground. I lay there for a moment, my ears ringing, trying to go through the checklist of my body to find out how close I was to dying.
Suddenly Alana was above me screaming and I stared up at her. Her hands were feeling around my side and I managed to sit up and look. There was no blood. I quickly lifted my shirt. The bullet had nicked the edge of the C4 putty. Contrary to popular believe, the shit did not blow up when hit by a bullet. Thank god.
“You bitch!” Esteban screamed, grabbing his head and trying to get to his feet but failing. His gun was knocked out of reach.
I got to my feet first and grabbed Alana’s arm. “You need to head to the boat, he’s lowered one to the water and I have one out there, attached by a rope. Get in it and go, now!”
“What about you?”
“I’ve got something I want to do,” I told her. I grabbed her face, conscious of Este in the background. “Grab a life preserver too, a jacket, a ring, anything that will keep you a float and wrap it around you, okay?”
“Derek …”
“Go!” I screamed and at that she quickly limped away to the back of the boat.
I was going to deal with him once and for all. I picked up the gun but saw there were no bullets left. For what I was about to do anyway, I wanted him alive until the very last minute, until it was too late and heat tore apart his bones. I went over to him and pistol whipped him hard at the side of the head until he fell over to the side, unconscious. Then I quickly took off my shirt, pulled out the C4 and the waterproof box and stuck a piece of it at the base of the propane stove. I stuck in the detonator and then stuck two more pieces on opposite sides of the bridge. I could hear chains clanging and water sluicing and hoped that Alana was finding her way onto the boat. I was planning to leave with her now but we wouldn’t have much time.
I ran down the stairs to the bottom level where all the bedrooms and the engine room was. I wasn’t sure if I had carried enough C4 with me – I had never anticipated on using it on a ship, let alone one of this size – but if there was one place that would take to a boom, it was the engine. I stuck the last pieces all around the block, planted the dentonators and then ran up the stairs back to the second level. I was about to head toward the back, toward where I assumed Alana was when I looked back at the kitchen.
Esteban had moved. He was nowhere to be seen.
Before I could comprehend that, someone ran at me from behind and I went sailing over the edge of the railing. I grabbed on to the rail, trying to hold on to that and the remote control trigger at the same time.
Este appeared at the railing, blood running down the side of his face and pried the trigger out of my hand before he tried to stab my fingers with a k
nife.
I let go of the railing before he could cut my fingers off and fell down, down, straight into the water. From that height it knocked the wind out of me so it took me a moment to act. Then I quickly kicked up toward the surface and looked around. The Double Eagle was almost on top of me, so I grabbed hold of the side and hauled myself up and over as quickly as I could.
I had expected to see Alana on board but there was nothing. In fact, the boat was quickly drifting away from the yacht, the rope having been severed at some point.
Suddenly the air filled with the roar of an engine I saw the zodiac speed away into the night, a dark shadow at the helm.
Please let that be Alana on it, please.
But of course it wasn’t.
Another movement caught my eye and I looked up at the top of the boat. I could see Alana’s head bobbing as she ran along the side. She was still on the fucking boat!
“Alana!” I screamed, panic tearing through me. “Jump!”
She disappeared behind part of the bridge but I didn’t hear a splash. It looked like she had been about to run down the stairs.
“Alana!” I screamed again. “Please!”
Then my scream was swallowed instantaneously.
There was a burst of light, smoke, a ripple in the air. Then a split second later the whole world exploded. I was knocked flat on my back, my head striking the captain’s seat of the fishing boat as I went down. Debris rained down on me but I couldn’t even cover myself. I just let the sparks and bits of flaming boat hit me.
Alana.
Alana.
Alana.
Not again.
No, not again.
Somehow, I don’t know how, I managed to sit up. My head filled like it had been filled with gel, my hearing blocked, my eyes stinging. I crawled to the edge of the boat and looked out.
The Beatriz had been broken up into three pieces. At least, those three pieces were all that was left of it and quickly sinking down toward the ocean floor. Everything else was just a mess of debris and flaming water. Near the edge of the fishing boat I could the fat man’s severed arm floating beside a pillow.
Alana.
Alana.
“Alana!” I yelled, my voice catching in my throat. “Alana!”
I yelled and screamed and cried her name over and over and over again. I don’t know how long I had been doing it for but after some time it had turned to tears. Then more screams. Then a combination of the two.
She didn’t survive it.
No one could have survived that.
Este had escaped.
I had escaped.
And Alana was dead.
The job had finally been fulfilled.
She was finally dead.
And it was my fault.
I had failed Carmen, I had failed Alana. I had failed myself.
Esteban was right.
There was no redemption here.
There never really was.
Not for somebody like me.
The ones who do the dirty deeds can never really be washed clean.
I swallowed down the ugliest sorrow I ever felt in my life. I felt it eat at me as it went through my body, consuming all the love I had, my hopes and fears and dreams. Oh those dreams I had for us. Those wonderful fucking dreams.
I lay back in the boat, stared blankly at the night sky as the fire crackled faintly in the background, and prayed for death.
I prayed for the morning sun to come and bake me, for birds to peck at my flesh and sharks to eat my bones. I prayed to drift off to sea forever, until there was nothing left of me.
I prayed until I fell asleep.
And prayed I would never wake up.
***
In my dreams I saw Alana and Carmen, sitting on a beach and talking to each other. They were so beautiful in the sun, so different and yet so much alike. No wonder I was so taken by each of them so instantly. They were a breath of fresh air, a force of light and nature.
I walked out of the sea and stopped in front of them, salt water dripping down my body.
They both turned their faces toward me and smiled, happy to see me. It was blinding.
“We are finally free,” they said in unison. “You’ll be free too. Free and unafraid.”
I woke up to see a brilliant night sky.
But I was afraid.
And that had been a dream.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Derek
Alana’s funeral was held at one p.m. at a cemetery on the outskirts of the Puerto Vallarta. It was dangerous for me to go, stupid even, but I had to. I had to take the risk. I had to see with my own eyes and know for myself what the truth really was, even if it was damaging.
So much damage had already been done.
I pulled my cap down over my eyes and made my way through the overgrown brush on the side of the cemetery. Everything was so well-groomed, so taken care of for the dead but the moment the cemetery lines stopped, nature was waiting. It wanted to take back the land, for roots to grow deep and suck life from bones, to bloom from death. The mess, the wildness, that suited the graves more than mown lawns and wilting flowers.
Bringing my binoculars out from my back pocket, I crouched down and crept, soundless and smooth through the bush, and stopped at the edge. In the distance I could see people gathered for her funeral. There was even more than I had imagined, but Alana had been a popular girl, more so than she once thought. The solid white casket was at the front of the crowd, a priest beside it, reading something out over the grave faces.
Everyone looked destroyed and that in turn destroyed me. It was a good thing that Alana couldn’t see this – it would hurt to know the pain she was inflicting on the people left behind.
Luz and Dominga were sitting near the front on fold-out chairs, tears running down their faces, hanging onto each other while what seemed like their family members tried to console them. There were a lot of people her age, women mostly, whom I assumed were employees of Aeromexico. And in the very back of the chairs, standing to attention, was Javier.
His face barely held any expression but what was there, was nearly heart-breaking. I was surprised. It’s not that I didn’t think he cared about his sister – I knew that he did – but after losing so much of his family already, I didn’t think it was possible for him to be affected anymore. In some ways, I didn’t think he had the capacity to really feel.
But that look on his face … it was the most controlled version of utter devastation that I had ever seen. This was going to ruin him.
That had been the plan, hadn’t it?
Sure enough, coming up behind Javier, was Esteban, as well as Luisa. Like Javier, they were dressed in black, their expressions strained. There was something about them though, the way they were walking together out of Javier’s sight, Esteban’s hand briefly on the small of her back before lifting away, that made me pause. Now that we knew who the villain was, I was starting to see another motive at play. This wasn’t over, not by a long shot. Esteban was going to take away everything that mattered Javier, one step at a time.
Alana’s death was the first step. The dominoes would follow.
Luisa was next. But in what context, that I didn’t know.
I eyed the surroundings, wondering if anyone else was going to show up, if anyone was watching – anyone like me. It seemed I was alone. Javier had so much control over the state but sometimes I wondered if he was almost flaunting it. His power was making him lazy and that laziness was going to cost him. The man who wanted him out of the picture, the man who was his biggest threat, was standing right beside him, forced to mourn while making eyes at his wife.
I could see how this was all going to go down. Luckily, I wouldn’t be around to see it. I had plans to get out the country, to get as far away from all of this as possible. If Esteban was going to slowly take down Javier, win people’s trust and take over the cartel, then it was Javier’s fault and no one else’s.
I almost felt sorry for him.
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It’s too bad that Alana and I had been brought into it and ripped apart at the seams. Every fucking day I regretted taking that damn phone call from him. But for all the grief and trouble, I know that if I hadn’t, I never would have met her. I never would have been free from my sins and from this life. I never would have found love again, or even happiness. I would have never found my redemption.
Now I was starting over. Alana’s death was bringing me a new beginning. Bringing us a new beginning.
I watched as the priest continued his talk and then people slowly came up to the podium to give their eulogies. I wondered about Alana’s sister, Marguerite, and why she wasn’t there but then realized that Javier would never allow that. For her safety, I was sure that Marguerite would never be allowed to step foot in Mexico ever again. The only Bernal sister left.
Surprisingly, Javier came up to speak. He was the last one. People stared at him in shock, having not noticed him at the back, probably still processing the now wildly-known truth that Alana’s brother was head of one of the nation’s largest drug cartels. It was because of him that she died.
I couldn’t hear what he was saying and I could only see the side of his face as he addressed the crowd, but it was apparent he was getting choked up over what he was saying. He left it short and then disappeared to the back of the crowd again.
The casket was lowered into the ground. The priest threw dirt.
Alana Bernal, as everyone knew her, was laid to rest.
I swallowed hard, feeling their sadness waft across the graves and penetrate my bones. I had felt that utter horror just a week ago when the explosion first went off. That grief, that fear, that big black hole of hell in your heart, it was still all so real for me. Loss. The world was cruel with what it gave you and what it took away.
I stayed in that spot until it was all over. Until the last people to stand over her grave were her brother, Esteban and Luisa. I watched until Javier mouthed words to the fresh-turned earth and then walked away. I watched as Esteban put his hand on Luisa’s shoulder and whisper something to her. Her expression wasn’t impressed but his was as cunning as a wolf. Then they followed behind Javier, Luisa walking quickly to catch up to her husband.