Boarding the yacht
On the way to Icacos, we stopped at the clinic. I took Valentina’s suitcase to her room. She was still in a coma, and when I talked to Doctor Díaz, I learned that though she had not regained consciousness, all her signs were favorable. I wanted to be there when she came out of it, but I knew I couldn’t.
I went back to the CR-V and drove to Icacos.
It was 10:15 a.m.
It was still raining when we parked the car and walked to the beach. We could see the Camaney II. We took off our clothes and hid them among the rocks.
We swam to the yacht with only our diver’s knives strapped to our arms for clothing. The water was rough and dirty with all of the flotsam and jetsam from the floods. We arrived at the yacht unseen and unheard. The boarding platform and gangway were down. They obviously were not worried that we might pay them a visit.
Their mistake.
We boarded the platform and climbed up the stairs to the deck. Two guys in gray were fixing something in one of the portholes. We approached them from behind. Caleb and I put them out with chokeholds. Charlie looked in their toolbox and found duct tape. We immobilize them with the tape. They were small men, so we couldn’t use their gray overalls.
In order to get to the bridge, we had to walk by the main cabin. I glimpsed inside and saw three of the thugs who had been at the party. One of them had a patched nose, courtesy of moi. I turned to Charlie and Caleb, and, without a word, we nodded.
***
We walked straight into the cabin. The three thugs looked up at us, surprised and stunned.
There is something unnerving when three large, naked men with tremendous muscles are attacking you.
They were not expecting a confrontation. They were unarmed. We went at them rapidly with the accumulated frustration of the last couple of days. We didn’t have to draw our knives. They attempted to put up a fight, but it was useless. Charlie and Caleb knocked their two adversaries unconscious in a matter of seconds.
I concentrated on the one with the patched nose. He was lean, fit, and about six feet, one inch tall. As I went for him, he threw a right jab, which never landed. I got to him first. I seized the top of his head and the bottom of his jaw while I twisted it to his right. I pushed him toward one of the frescoes on the wall. I got close to his ear and whispered, “You only have one chance to live, and that is to answer all of my questions.” Then, raising my voice, I said, “Do you hear me? Look at me! Do you hear me?” I twisted his head a little more.
“Yes, yes, I hear you,” he responded in pain.
“How many people are onboard?” I asked, adding, “Remember, we have been here before, and we’re now here again, so you had better answer truthfully.”
“There are ten of us onboard: the captain, four officers, two mechanics, and the three of us,” he said.
“Good,” I said. “Where are your other five friends who were here at the party?”
“Four are the personal bodyguards of Mr. Toro, and one is his driver. They are always with Mr. Toro. They are with him at his house in Acapulco.”
“You’re doing well, very well,” I said. “Whom do you report to?”
“My boss is Mr. Nicanor Toro, but our orders are usually given by his lawyer, Lic. Juventino Cienfuegos.”
“Where are the Canadian and the Russian girls? Where have they taken them?”
“I don’t know. We are just hired help.”
“I told you, you only have one chance. Are you lying to me?”
“No,” he said in a whining voice. “I am not lying to you. We don’t know where they have taken the girls.”
“Perhaps you think you don’t know, but I am sure you have a very good idea.”
He said, “I think they have taken them to special sex clubs in the United States.”
“Why do you think that?”
He said, “Because we never see them again. Because the girls are flown out of by the Americans in their private plane.”
“Why didn’t they take the Mexican girl?”
“I don’t know. They never take Mexicans or Americans. They only take girls of other nationalities.” This he said looking remorseful and guilty.
“Tell me,” I said, “what is Toro’s business?”
“He’s very important. He supplies drugs. He has nightclubs and several companies.”
“Who are the two Americans who were here?”
He responded, “I am not sure, but I think they are Mr. Toro’s business associates.”
“What about the Colombian?” I asked.
“Nobody has told us, but we think he works for Mr. Toro managing his interests in Colombia.”
“What are the real names of the Americans and the Colombian?” I asked him.
“We know them as Nina Scott, Aaron Carston, and Christian Millán. I don’t know what their real names are,” he said.
“How can I find Toro, his lawyer Cienfuegos, the Americans Nina Scott and Aaron Carson, and the Colombian Millán?” I quizzed.
“Mr. Toro is probably on his way back to Mexico. The Americans probably left with the Canadian and Russian girls in their private jet. Mr. Christian Millán is also probably on his way to Colombia. The lawyer lives here in Acapulco, and you can find him at his home.”
I asked him for the address and telephone of Toro’s house in Acapulco and of the lawyer.
“If I tell you that, they’re going to kill me,” he said to me.
“If you don’t tell me, I am going to kill you. Furthermore, nobody needs to find out that you gave us the information,” I said.
He gave us the information, which we filed away in our memories.
I let go of his head and grabbed his left hand. Charlie put a massive hand on his left shoulder, and Caleb placed his hand on his right shoulder, pressing him against the wall. The three of us just knew what to do without saying another word about it.
“What happened to the Mexican girl?” I asked.
“She was thrown into the sea along with the three of you.”
“I told you, no lies.” I grabbed his left little finger and brought it all the way back until it snapped. I took hold of his right little finger and asked him again, “What happened to the Mexican girl?”
“Mr. Toro had a little fun with her.”
“Only Toro?”
“No, Lic. Cienfuegos went second.”
“Tell me who else,” I repeated, while pushing back little by little his right little finger. “Who else?”
“Well, perhaps Pepe and La Tonina there,” he said, looking at his two friends out cold on the floor.
“Were the four Mexican call girls for Toro’s bodyguards?” I asked.
“Yes, they were hired for them,” he said.
I said, “So you and your two friends didn’t have anybody to fuck except the Mexican girl, right?”
He looked down.
“Who put the ten peso coins inside her vagina?” I asked.
“They did,” he said pointing at his two friends on the floor.
“So you put the twenty peso bill up her anus?” I asked him.
He knew that I knew. “Look,” he said to me, “I am sorry. They made me do it. When you work for Mr. Toro, you have to act as they expect you to act. I had to do it, or they wouldn’t trust me anymore.”
I let go of his hand and grabbed his head again with the same hold as before, one hand on top of his head and the other below his jaw. I said, “You didn’t have to put the twenty-peso bill up her anus. That was you and nobody else.” I pushed his jaw up while pulling his head down, breaking his neck. I let go, and he slid dead to the floor.
***
I had crossed the line. They had awakened the beast inside of me.
Charlie and Caleb looked at me. They intuitively knew what had happened to me and the line I had crossed. They turned around and walked toward the other two goons, who were out cold. Charlie knelt next to one of them and hit his Adam’s apple with a massive karate chop, killing him inst
antly. Caleb grasped the head of the other one and twisted to the left and then swiftly to the right, snapping his neck. Another quick kill.
They had both crossed the line with me. We were in this together. There was no turning around now. The only way ahead was forward.
Talking to the captain
We went up to the bridge. The captain and two of his officers were sipping coffee from large mugs. We walked stark naked into the cockpit, surprising them and leaving them speechless. The captain was the first to recover from his astonishment, and he shouted, “What the heck are you doing aboard my vessel?”
I walked toward the captain while Caleb and Charlie strode toward the two officers. The officers were paralyzed, looking numbly at Charlie’s and Caleb’s huge muscles and penises. Charlie said, “Do you remember us?” And he hit the officer right on the chin while Caleb did the same to the other officer. Both fell down, dropping their coffee mugs. “Stay down,” admonished Charlie, “if you know what’s good for you.”
Out of the hearing of the two officers, I said, “Captain, we need to talk. You need to tell us what happened here and why.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” said the captain.
“Yes, we needed to do that. They were part of the group that jumped us on Independence Day. If they had not intervened, we would not be in the mess that we are in right now. Yes, we really needed to do that.
“So please, Captain, tell me.”
“Mr. Toro asked me to drop you, your two big gringo friends, and the Mexican girl into the sea. However, I couldn’t do that. In the two years that I have worked for him, this was the first time he had asked me to do something illegal. I am an honest captain, a very good captain from the Royal Swedish Navy. I am not a criminal and certainly not a murderer. I, along with those two officers whom your friends just punched, took you to the beach and dropped you there, hoping for the best.”
“Well,” I said, “Toro knows now that we’re alive, so he will be coming after you.”
“Yes,” said the captain. “We have decided to leave his employment and return to Sweden.”
“Captain, I suggest you do so immediately. Don’t wait any longer. But before you do, we need some information. Please tell us about them. Who are they? What is their business? Where did they take the Canadian and Russian girls? How can we find them? Please tell us anything that can help us find the girls and stop them from coming after you and us.”
The captain told me as much as he knew, a lot less than the thug had told me. Toro and company kept the information compartmentalized, on a need-to-know basis. However, the captain did confirm most of what we had already found out. The only new piece of evidence was that he believed Nina Scott worked in Mexico City.
“Captain, I would like you to please call Lic. Cienfuegos and ask him to see you. Tell him that it has to do with two of the guests who crashed the party and that you don’t want to talk over an open telephone line.”
The captain said, “I can do that.” He opened his cell phone and called the lawyer. He had him on speed dial. The lawyer agreed to see him at Sanborn’s on La Costera.
“Before we go,” said the captain, “let us get you some clothes. I cannot take you ashore like that.”
The two officers were standing by now, and one of them was rubbing his face. The captain asked them to come with us. “We need to find uniforms for these three gentlemen,” he said.
They found uniforms and shoes for Caleb and me. Charlie was a problem. He was too big. Therefore, they gave him the largest gray overalls they had and flip-flops. They didn’t have any shoes his size. Charlie looked like a huge sausage on two toothpicks.
Before we left, I called the captain aside and told him that the three local thugs who had fought against us had lost their lives during the fight. He looked at me and said, “Yes, I expected that. I heard they raped the girl you came with that night. I would have probably done the same.”
“Please, Captain. We have to do something in the main cabin before we leave with you, and we don’t want you to be a witness to it. The less you know, the safer you will be.”
***
I asked Charlie and Caleb to accompany me to the main cabin. When we got there, I told them to take the dead men’s wallets, cash, and cell phones. We could always use them, and they didn’t need them anymore.
We carried their bodies to the side of the yacht and dumped them into the sea—three more casualties of hurricane Manuel.
We left the yacht on the speedboat. The captain dropped us close to where we had hidden our clothes.
“Thank you, Captain, for saving our lives, and we wish you a quick and an uneventful return to your country.” I said.
The captain said, “I hope you find and rescue your Canadian and Russian friends.”
We shook hands and parted company.
It was 12:20 in the afternoon. We were supposed to see the lawyer at 1:00 p.m.
We retrieved our clothes and went to fetch the CR-V. Charlie immediately changed and put on his shoes, saying as he did so, “Everybody is a midget in this country!”
“Stop whining and complaining,” said Caleb. “You are the abnormal one here.”
I started laughing.
Charlie looked at us and asked with a serious face, “How do you guys feel?”
Caleb and I knew what he was talking about. I looked at Caleb, and he said, “I don’t feel bad about it. I felt it was necessary. It needed to be done, just like taking out the garbage.”
“I guess I feel the same way,” I said. “I had never killed anybody before, and taking the life of that rapist, coward, and criminal felt right, just like squashing a cockroach, fly, or mosquito. I actually feel bad that I don’t have any remorse about the life I have taken. I guess I don’t feel bad because deep inside my mind I sense that the man I killed was a parasite, a predator—closer to an insect than to a human being.”
“Well,” said Charlie, “I don’t feel bad about it. I don’t think I will be losing any sleep over taking out this gutter trash. The world is a better place without this scum.”
Talking to the lawyer
We drove under the irritating and constant rain to Sanborn’s. Even though few cars were on the road and Sanborn’s was nearby, it took us twenty minutes to get there because of the poor road conditions.
We each had one of the cell phones of the dead thugs from the yacht. We programmed into speed dial one another’s numbers. I waited in the parking lot in case the lawyer arrived in his car. Charlie stood reading a magazine outside the cafeteria’s inside entrance in case we missed him going in. Caleb stood by the street entrance, trying to be inconspicuous, which was hard to do given his size and bulk.
The lawyer arrived fifteen minutes late, driving his own car. He parked two rows ahead of me. I walked to him as he was getting out and placed a careful chokehold on him. He fainted rapidly. I took him to the CR-V and placed him in the back. I then secured him with duct tape and slapped a piece over his mouth.
I called Caleb and Charlie and told them I had secured the package. I then drove out of the parking lot toward the street entrance, and as I was pulling to the curb, they climbed into the car. I drove toward Revolcadero.
***
We found an empty stretch of beach. Lic. Cienfuegos by now was fully conscious, shaking like a leaf, and looking around with frightened eyes. Charlie lifted him over his shoulder and carried him toward the sea. He dropped the lawyer near where the waves were breaking on the shore. Caleb squatted and, with a swift pull, removed the tape from his mouth.
He immediately said in a high, whining pitch, on the verge of tears, “Where am I? What happened to me? What do you want from me?”
We looked at him while the rain fell on his face and the surf circled his body. We just looked and didn’t answer.
He started shouting, “Help me, please. Somebody help me. I have been kidnapped. They’re going to kill me.”
I came around and slapped him hard on the side of his fa
ce. He fell down sideways onto the incoming surf. He started to choke. Foam was coming out of his nostrils. As the surf receded, I pulled him by the hair into a sitting position.
“Juventino Cienfuegos, you are alive only because we are letting you live. You can shout all you want. Nobody is going to hear you, and even if they do hear you, nobody is going to come to help you. You are a criminal, a rapist, a murderer, and on top of that, a lawyer. You work for very bad people, and you are a bad person yourself. We can very easily decide to kill you or let you die or live. The choice is entirely ours. We don’t care what happens to you. Everything that happens from this point forward will depend on whether you answer our questions. Do you understand? Look at me!” He was already looking at me, but I wanted to underscore a point. I slapped him on the cheek while shouting at him. “Look at me! Tell me that you understand!”
“Yes, yes,” he said. “I understand. Please, please don’t kill me. I have a wife and two children. Please, do it for them, if not for me. I only follow instructions. If I don’t follow his orders, he will have me killed.”
“Juventino, Juventino, shut the fuck up!” I interrupted his whining litany with another slap.
I made a point of calling him by his first name to establish my superiority over him and to emphasize that he was under my authority.
He shut up and looked at us with frightened, cowardly eyes.
“Good,” I said. “I also want you to know that we know everything. And I mean everything. We have talked to your local goons, who, by the way, you will no longer be seeing. We have also talked to the captain and his officers. We know who you are, where you live, and whom you work for. We know about Nicanor Toro, Nina Scott, Aaron Carson, and Christian Millán. We know all of it. If you lie to us, even once, we are first going to make you suffer, and then we are going to kill you. Do you understand?”
Cienfuegos nodded.
Squatting behind him, Caleb took the tape off of his wrists. As his blood began flowing unimpeded again, he rubbed his wrists and said, “I’m cold.” His teeth were chattering. Cienfuegos tried to lick his lips, but he had trouble creating saliva. “I need something to drink.”
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