Missing
Page 31
He stretched his hand out, but there was no more left. He collapsed onto his side. The flags were behind him. They had passed over him on their own somehow because he could not have pulled himself that distance.
Looking up from the ground, Jack saw for the first time the men in black with their weapons. They stood gathered at the invisible line beneath the flags with their weapons, watching Jack with angry eyes as dark as their uniforms. Jack wanted to call out to them, but he did not have energy enough to do anything except pant like a dying dog under the sun.
More shadows. The sun moved in the time he blinked his eyes. New men swirled around him, wearing blue. He watched their lips move. One knelt over him and waved his hand in front of Jack’s eyes. The cords of his neck stood out when he shouted to someone Jack did not see.
He was weightless in his pain. He did not know where he was, but he knew that it was good. Jack closed his eyes and the blackness enveloped him. A vision of Marina appeared through the dark. She stood over him and kissed him on the forehead. He felt her hand in his hand. They would go home to Lidia together.
TWENTY
CAPTAIN ERNESTO ALVARES PARKED HIS car in front of the unassuming little house in Laredo and killed the engine. It was not an official vehicle, but one he had borrowed from one of his soldiers, who had local family. He did not wear his uniform.
There was no outward sign of life. The blinds in the front windows were closed, but there was a white car in the driveway. Alvares got out of his vehicle and felt the dying heat of the day. The worst of summer was over. The children were back in school. He had been caught behind a bus for most of the way.
He crossed the grass to the walk and then to the door. He rang once and knocked, as well. One of the blinds stirred. Someone was peeking out.
A young girl answered the door. Alvares had never seen her before, but he saw the resemblance to the picture of Marina Cobos in the files. This was the sister. She looked serious and guarded and when he introduced himself she seemed hesitant to speak. Finally she said, ‘What do you want?’
‘To see Sr Searle. If I may.’
‘Come in.’
Jack Searle’s house was small, but welcoming. Alvares did not imagine Searle had decorated it himself, but perhaps he would be surprised. The girl left him in the front room where the TV was turned low and said Searle would be there soon.
Alvares heard the man before he saw him. Jack Searle walked with the assistance of a metal cane that made a distinct rapping sound on the house’s vinyl flooring. Alvares was surprised to see he was able to walk at all. They had told him how badly he was hurt on the bridge, how much blood he had left in his truck. Alvares did not know whether he could have found the strength to do what Searle did. Not much time had passed. Searle was a hardy man. The younger sister stood close behind him. ‘Dad?’ she asked.
‘It’s okay,’ Searle said. ‘Watch some TV.’
Alvares nodded to her as kindly as he could. She averted her gaze.
‘Captain Alvares,’ Searle said.
‘Sr Searle.’
‘I guess you might as well call me Jack.’
‘I will. Is there somewhere we can talk?’
‘Sure.’
Jack led Alvares to the kitchen, where a table awaited, neatly set with a vertical roll of paper towels and a metal flatware holder bristling with forks, knives and spoons. Alvares sat in the chair Jack pulled out for him. He saw pain flash on Jack’s face when he sat down.
‘It is good to see you,’ Alvares said.
‘I’m sorry I can’t say the same,’ Jack replied.
‘I am not offended.’
‘Good. What are you doing here?’
‘You would not come to me, so I came to you.’
‘And now you’re in my house.’
‘I thought you might like to know that Gonzalo Soler’s funeral was very lovely. It was well attended and he was given honors. I wish you could have been there. You were the last one to see him, after all.’
‘I don’t think I’ll be coming back to Mexico again.’
Alvares nodded. ‘You will also be happy to know that there will be no extradition hearing for you. The matter has been deemed narco-related and you are no longer part of the inquiry. You could return to Mexico if you wanted. You could even claim what’s left of your truck.’
‘That’s good. I guess.’
‘What did you tell your people when they asked you what happened?’ Alvares asked.
‘I told them I was ambushed by thugs. They shot up my truck and they got me. I barely made it out.’
‘And they believed this?’
‘No one knew better at the time.’
‘And now no one will know.’
They sat quietly for a while, each looking at the table and not each other. Alvares was dimly aware of the television noises from the other room. Somehow they made the house seem emptier. Alvares did not know how Jack could stand it.
‘I’m sorry that I did not come quickly enough,’ Alvares said to break the silence. ‘Gonzalo’s message reached me too late.’
‘You just would have stopped us.’
‘Yes, I would have.’
‘Then I’m glad you were late.’
‘I could have spared you this,’ Alvares said, and he indicated the cane.
‘Small price to pay. It cost Gonzalo more.’
‘Which is what I wanted to ask you: did you find what you were looking for? Did Gonzalo die for something meaningful?’
Jack’s face fell. ‘I don’t know how to answer that.’
‘We were never your enemy, Jack. We fought for you always.’
‘That wasn’t enough.’
‘And now so many people are dead. Gonzalo Soler was a good policeman.’
‘He was a good man.’
‘Do you regret drawing him into your game?’
Jack looked at Alvares sharply. ‘It wasn’t a game.’
‘Just so. But Gonzalo was trapped in it as surely as you. Was there ever a chance he could escape?’
‘Not once we got started. We had to see it through.’
‘The case of your stepdaughter’s disappearance remains open. We are still looking into it, though without Gonzalo’s help I’m afraid my people will not make much progress. We are soldiers. The people who sent us don’t seem to understand that.’
‘So you’ll keep searching?’
Alvares caught Jack’s eye and for a moment he saw a sorrow so deep that a man could drown in it just by looking. ‘May I see her room?’
‘Why?’
‘I only ask as a favor.’
‘Okay.’
Jack rose from the table with difficulty and led the way, his cane tapping with each step. They came to a closed door and Jack opened it. He stood aside so Alvares could see the neat bed, the perfectly arranged desk, the bright walls and the little touches of a young woman.
‘He didn’t remember her,’ Jack said. ‘He didn’t care so much that he couldn’t even remember her. He didn’t even know her name.’
Alvares put his hand on Jack’s shoulder and Jack did not pull away. They stood like that for a long moment and then Alvares grasped the knob and gently closed the door.
AFTERWORD
MISSING IS FICTION, BUT IS INSPIRED by true events. The violence in Nuevo Laredo is real. The disappearances are real. The drug cartels are real.
All across Mexico, people are dying. It does not matter how old or how young they are, or whether they are honest people or criminals. Since 2006, more than 60,000 people have died. In 2009 (the last year we have figures for) 1,200 children under the age of seventeen were killed by drug violence. Many were the victims of stray bullets, but a heartbreaking number were specifically targeted for execution. A particularly horrible case involved an entire family butchered by narcos, including a twenty-two-month-old baby girl, shot to death. In another, a police commander was riddled with bullets while carrying her five-year-old daughter. Neither survived.
&
nbsp; As if this were not bad enough, tens of thousands are missing. Human trafficking, particularly for sexual exploitation, is thriving in Mexico, and kidnapping drives this trade. Kidnapping purely for ransom is also a booming industry. The kidnappers do not seem to care whether their victims are Mexicans or not, with more than forty Americans vanishing in the Nuevo Laredo region since 2004.
Sadly, I did not even invent the circumstances of the Municipal Police in Nuevo Laredo. In June of 2011, the entire Municipal Police force was dismissed pending ‘professionalization and certification.’ As of this writing, they still have not returned to work and Nuevo Laredo is a madhouse of crime. The mayor of Nuevo Laredo has begged for the Municipal Police to be restored, despite their corruption, just to reestablish some semblance of order.
Mexico is a country in deep crisis. There is no end in sight.
Sam Hawken
As always I would like to thank my wife, Mariann, for her invaluable contribution to my work. Without her input, I wouldn’t be able to write a word.
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