Death Drones

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Death Drones Page 10

by Christopher Fox


  Maria did not start dating until she enrolled in university. There was one serious relationship during her time there, but her focus on completing her law degree, and indulgence in her studies, caused rifts in the arrangement, and in the third year, she broke it off. After completing the degree program and awaiting results from her final exams, she made an application to the Policía Federal Ministerial, the Federal police. After finishing an interview for a junior position in law enforcement, it being a beautiful day, she decided to walk home from the Police headquarters. After turning down one of the side streets that would lead her back to the university, three young males approached her.

  “Hey! Amigo. Where are you going?”

  Maria turned around and saw the three youths following her. She had taken several self-defence courses and knew how to handle herself one on one with virtually any man. But three? She quickened her pace and headed for the main street which had more people. One of the youths ran past her and blocked her way.

  “You’re not very friendly?” he said.

  “Get out of my way,” said Maria and took a Karate stance with her back to the wall.

  “Oooh!” said a voice to her left. “Looks like she wants to fight.”

  Maria kept her gaze straight ahead, keeping an eye on each of them in her peripheral vision. One of them on her right side came up to her and reached his hand out.

  “Come now. We just want to be friends.”

  He touched her on the shoulder and she lashed out with a knife-like straight hand to his throat. Gasping, he clutched at his throat and fell to his knees. Before the others reacted, she used her off-balance to her right to set up for a round-house kick to the man on her left. Unfortunately, he saw it coming and grabbed her leg, twisting it as he broke her balance and she fell to the ground. Before she recovered, the assailant dragged her into an alleyway and the other guy jumped on her, pinning her down with his weight on her chest.

  “Stop struggling,” he said. “You will only make it worse.”

  “Bastards!” she spat as she could sense the other man, now sitting on her legs, start to undo her belt. Even though she continued to struggle, the guy on top of her was too heavy for her to move. When she sensed the weight taken off her legs so that the guy could pull down her jeans, she kicked as hard as she could, but the jeans now wrapped around her ankles prevented a lot of movement in her legs other than a peddling motion. She changed her focus from the man on her chest being more concerned about the one she couldn’t see, who was now back on her legs clawing at her panties. She saw the punch coming but was unable to avoid it and experienced a massive pain in her right cheek … and then nothing. As her head was off the ground at the time, when the punch hit, her head hit the pavement hard, causing her to black out.

  * * * *

  Maria stirred and could hear faint voices in her head, which hurt like hell!

  “Señorita ? Are you OK? Señorita ?”

  Someone was nudging her.

  “Are you OK? I called the police and an ambulance. Were you attacked?”

  She opened her eyes and found it hard to focus at first. Her head was splitting, and she knew she was nearly naked, but a coat lay over her. She tried to get up, but a hand pushed her back down.

  “Don’t try to get up,” the voice said. “You were unconscious and probably have a concussion.”

  Maria could hear the distant sirens as she tried to capture what had happened. She remembered the three youths; remembered the one she punched in the throat, then being subdued by the other two. She knew she had been raped because semen ran down her leg. She turned her face to the left and saw her jeans and panties lying next to her. Turning to the right and saw her bra; she still had her blouse on. A kind face peered at her. Probably in his mid-fifties, his dress was somewhat shabby, but in keeping with the area she was in.

  “Help is on its way,” he said conciliatorily as he adjusted the coat to shelter her modesty.

  Suddenly, a kaleidoscope of flashing colours filled the narrow roadway as both police and ambulances screeched to a halt beside her. Medics rushed to her side and started taking vital signs. The policemen waited until they got the OK from the paramedics before attempting to question her .

  “You have suffered a concussion and we need to take you to the hospital.”

  “OK,” she said in a daze.

  One of the police officers came up to her and knelt down beside her while the other one talked to the stranger.

  “Can you describe who attacked you?” he said.

  Maria rubbed her head, which still felt like it had been used for a punching bag. She reached behind and noticed a large lump as well as a wet and sticky sensation as she touched her hair. When she looked at her fingers, she groaned at the blood covering them.

  “There were three of them. One probably with a broken larynx when I gave him a chop to the throat, but the other two were on me. One of them punched me in the face and I guess my head hit the pavement. I don’t remember anything else after that.”

  The officer keyed his mic. and reported for anyone to be on the lookout for a young man seeking attention for a throat injury.

  “Any other descriptions? Age? Size? Distinguishing features?”

  “They were all young—probably late teens or early twenties. One had a Boston Red Sox cap and a blue t-shirt. It had a picture of a motorcycle with flames on it. That was the one I chopped in the throat. Probably about 160 lb. The guy who sat on top of me was heavier than the other two—I would say 250 lb. or more, blue jeans and a tattered black t-shirt. I didn’t get a good look at the other one, but he would have been about 180 lb., dark hair and no cap.”

  “Any other distinguishing marks you can recall? Tattoos? Birthmarks? Facial hair?”

  Maria thought back to the ordeal, but the pain in her head prevented any rational thought. She rubbed her forehead and grimaced.

  “We need to get her to the hospital now,” the medic said, and both he and his buddy lifted her onto the gurney, strapped her in, and slid her into the ambulance. The medic asked her if she had any allergies, and when she said no, he gave her a pill to swallow.

  “This will help with the headache,” he said.

  She tilted her head and took the pill with the small paper cup of water.

  “Thank you,” she said, still dazed. She noticed that the sound of the sirens inside the ambulance were constant now, not fading in and out as they do when an emergency vehicle is approaching or receding from you, a phenomenon caused by the Doppler effect.

  She must have dozed off, likely due to the calming effects of the pill, because she awoke when she had the sensation of being moved. She looked up into the faces of several hospital staff as they navigated her through the emergency doors to the trauma department. She caught glimpses of the policeman who had talked to her as he followed the triage group. The fluorescent lights flashed past her vision as she was wheeled down the corridor to a ward. The familiar smell of antiseptic invaded her nose.

  “Put her in twelve,” she heard someone say. The gurney moved again, turned into an examining room and came to rest against a bed. The paramedics removed the restraints and lifted her onto the bed. A nurse took vital signs, clipped a thermometer onto her finger and hooked up an IV.

  “How are you feeling?” the nurse said.

  “A little groggy right now. My head still hurts like hell.”

  “That’s understandable. You’ve had a nasty bang on the head and received a concussion. We just need to check things over. Is there someone you would like us to call?”

  “No, I don’t have any close friends or relatives in Ciudad Juárez. I only go to university here.”

  “Were you raped?”

  Maria had an instant flashback to being attacked. Emotion welled up inside of her and she started to cry. The nurse handed her a facial tissue.

  “Thank you,” she said through sobs. “Yes, I was raped. And I’m going to get the bastards that did it.”

  “I have o
rdered a rape kit. This is where we collect evidence of the rape for prosecution when we apprehend the raper.”

  Maria was familiar with the process because a friend of hers had to undergo one after being raped back in Mexico City.

  “We need to take your clothes as evidence for testing and DNA samples. Is there no one you can call to get a few clothes from home?”

  Maria thought for a moment and came up with a classmate who would be a likely candidate.

  “Do you have my phone?”

  The nurse shuffled through her belongings.

  “It was in my jeans pocket. ”

  The nurse picked the jeans out of the evidence bag and found her phone.

  “Here,” she said. “Can you find the number?”

  “I’m OK,” Maria said as she turned on the phone and accessed her contacts, scrolled down to Angelina Pasena and pressed the call icon.

  “Hi Maria,” came the joyful reply at the other end of the phone. “How are you?”

  “Not so good. I was attacked and raped today. I’m at the hospital and need a few clothes from my dorm. Can you get them for me?”

  “Oh my God! Maria. That is so awful. Of course I will get you some clothes. What hospital are you in.?”

  Maria asked the nurse, “What hospital is this?”

  “Hospital General,” she said.

  “Hospital General,” Maria repeated.

  “Are you OK? Did they hurt you?”

  “I have a bit of a concussion when my head hit the pavement, but other than that I seem to be OK.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  Maria closed the connection and handed the phone back to the nurse.

  “I presume the attackers didn’t wear condoms.”

  “No, I can feel the semen.”

  “They never do. We will do an STD examination and I’m sure the doctor will prescribe the morning-after pill to ward off any chance of pregnancy. It is just a booster shot of oestrogen that stops ovulation temporarily.”

  “Thank you,”

  A team of white-coated people entered the room. A very young and handsome man came to Maria’s bedside.

  “Hi …” he looked at her chart. “Maria. I am Doctor Alhambra and I am going to administer the rape kit. It may seem uncomfortable and I am sorry for that, but we have to take a swab from various parts of your body, including your mouth, vagina and anus.”

  “You won’t use the same swab, will you?” Maria said with a wry grin on her face.

  The doctor chuckled. “Nothing wrong with your sense of humour. I will also need to take hair samples, fingernail scrapings, and cuttings. ”

  He was right that the proceedings were uncomfortable, but she resigned herself to go through with it. After he finished and had collected all the samples in evidence folders he asked her, “How is the head?”

  “Very sore.”

  “Let’s have a look at that then.”

  He shone a light into each of her eyes to test for pupil dilation, then asked her if she had vomited or had any dizzy spells, which she hadn’t. He felt the back of her head and said, “You have quite a hematoma there.” Maria looked quizzically at him.

  “That’s medical speak for a lump. Nothing to worry about though. I will have the nurse clean that up and dress the wound. Unfortunately, we will have to shave the area. Don’t worry, you have enough hair to cover it until it grows back. We are going to keep you overnight for observation and I will check back with you in the morning.”

  “Thank you, doctor.”

  As the doctor left, Angelina came into the room carrying a small suitcase.

  “Maria. Oh, My God. Look at you.”

  She came over to the bed and gave Maria an affectionate hug.

  “I am so sorry this happened to you. Where did it happen? Did they catch the guy?”

  “There were three of them and no, I don’t think they have caught any of them yet. I did bust up one of the guy’s throat with a chop to the Adam’s apple. He fell down like a sack of potatoes,” she said somewhat triumphantly.

  “Oh, Maria. This is so awful. I can’t imagine what you must be feeling now.”

  “Thanks for getting my clothes. I am naked under this hospital gown.”

  “I threw a bunch of things into the case. Toiletries, underwear, hair brush and comb as well as some make-up. I grabbed a pair of jeans and a couple of t-shirts. I also packed a pair of sneakers.”

  “Thanks, Angelina. You are the best.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, I'm only glad that I could be of help. Do you want me to call your parents?”

  “No!” Maria said almost too quickly. “No, that’s OK. I don’t want to face them now and have it thrown in my face about coming to this crime-infested city.”

  The nurse came back to dress Maria’s wound .

  “I’m sorry, you’ll have to leave now,” the nurse said to Angelina.

  “I’ll come back in the morning,” she said and gave Maria a peck on the cheek.

  “Thanks. That would be nice.”

  The nurse shaved her head and dressed the wound, then left the room. Alone now, Maria laid her head back on the pillow, and in a few minutes, she fell into a deep sleep.

  Eleven

  Maria woke up in a sweat—it was dark, and she took a few moments to orient herself. The antiseptic smell reminded her that she was in the hospital. She just couldn’t get the notion out of her mind that someone had violated her; taken from her what wasn’t theirs to take. The medication started to wear off, and her head still hurt. She glanced around the room and noted that she was alone—no doubt her parent’s insurance afforded her a private room. Those bastards are going to pay she told herself over and again. Those bastards are going to pay.

  As the early signs of morning approached, the doctor came to see Maria and said that there were no complications with the concussion and she was free to go. A detective also dropped by and asked her a few more questions. No, no distinguishing marks, all clean shaven and no tattoos that she noticed.

  “Here’s my card. Give me a call if you remember anything more.”

  “Thank you,” she said, reading the card and noticed his name, Carlos Santiago, and thought how nice he was.

  Angelina came in right after the detective left.

  “How are you, kiddo?”

  “Much better. Head still hurts though. Can you close the door? I want to get dressed and get out of here.”

  “Are you sure the doctor said it was OK?”

  “Sure. Everything’s fine. Just have to take it easy for a few days. No beating my head against the wall.”

  “My car’s outside and I can give you a ride back to the dorm.”

  “That would be great Angie. I really appreciate all you’ve done.”

  “It was nothing. I’m so glad that I was able to help out with something.”

  Maria dressed and checked herself out at the nurses’ station. They both drove back to the university residence, and Maria was glad to get back to her room. She was emotionally upset, but more than that, she was angry. Angry at those three men who thought they could just violate her like that. She made a vow to herself again that she would find them and make them pay.

  Maria returned home to her parents a week later after she got the dressing removed at the hospital. The headache had almost gone now and the lump on her head had virtually disappeared. To her amazement, a letter from the Policía Federal Ministerial was there waiting for her. Nervously opening it, she read the contents … and her face lit up:

  Dear señorita Delgado,

  It gives us great pleasure to inform you that, based on the assessment of your qualifications and your recent interview, the Agency is pleased to offer you a position as a Junior Law Enforcement Agent. You will be required to show up for training in two weeks from the date of this letter at the training centre in Mexico City at the address below. Please confirm your acceptance.

  Congratulations and we look forward to seeing you in two weeks.<
br />
  Maria couldn't hide her elation, and she told her parents, but they didn't share in her excitement.

  “Why would you want to join the Federales?” her father bellowed at her. “You could have had a nice position as the family lawyer. I thought that was what you had in mind when you took a law degree.”

  “It's so dangerous,” her mother said. “Why would you want to put your life at risk?”

  “You haven't been on the streets—seen what I have seen.” Maria said. “You live in your ivory tower here in Mexico City while so many people are struggling on the streets. Drug lords are taking over Mexico, inducing young girls into prostitution. Young men and women see no other avenue but to steal and commit various crimes to pay for their drug habit. People wasting their life. I want to be in a position to do something about it. Try to make a difference.”

  “Oh, Maria,” her mother pleaded. “Can't we talk you out of it? Can't you just meet a nice boy, get married; have a family like most girls want. Why do you want to throw away your life like that?”

  “Throw away my life? What do you mean ‘throw away my life’? I'm not throwing away my life. I'm trying to make my life mean something. Help clean up the mess caused by lawlessness and rampant crime. You just don't understand.” With that, Maria stomped out and retreated to her room. She certainly wasn't going to win any arguments with her parents, and she had made up her mind about joining the Federales.

  Two weeks later she showed up at the training centre as instructed. Initially, she had to undergo six weeks of intensive training and was warned that many fail to complete the program and are released. The experience was certainly a gruelling one, but Maria persevered and watched as many of her classmates fell by the wayside. Of the 85 recruits, only 43 actually made it to the end of training—and only five females. Upon completion, Maria got assigned to Ciudad Juárez where most of the Federales operated. Three weeks into the program, she received a call from the detective who attended to her at the hospital.

 

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