Gringo Joe

by JD Davis

  “Yeah, about that, Parker, I have to admit I was a little mad, but I was also on a fishing expedition. I hope you and the council will allow me some latitude for a week or so. It will at least be interesting to see how Crivelli plays his hand and what other rats might crawl out into the light.”

  “I think I can appease the hoard for a week or so. Just tread lightly, Mel, and be careful.”

  The two parted company and Mel sat at her desk wondering if maybe she had played too weak of a hand on a bluff.

  CHAPTER 17

  FATHER DOMINIC ANTONIO GONZALEZ IGLESIAS

  Piper Longmire sat the M600 down smoothly on a short runway just north of Lake Chapala. There were a couple of hangars, what looked like an abandoned Quonset hut, and a new Mercedes G-Class SUV with a giant standing beside it. They were advised someone would meet them at the airstrip and take them to a villa. The someone was almost seven feet tall and had to weigh two-sixty.

  “Look,” said Piper as they were leaving the aircraft. “If that guy ever gets pissed, I want you to handle it—okay, Joe?”

  They walked to the Mercedes where they were greeted by huge smile and warm handshake. The giant identified himself as Abebe. On the way to their accommodations, they learned Abebe was from Ethiopia and his name meant flourishing flower.

  Piper, sitting in the back with Gabby, leaned close and whispered, “You better hope he’s not interested in pollenating.”

  Gabby elbowed him and took in the scenery as they climbed into the hills. There was a security gate that Abebe opened with the push of several numbers. A large gate rolled away, revealing a warning sign about high voltage. A winding drive over the next hill brought them into an oasis with a large walled villa sitting in the middle. As the SUV rolled to a stop, there was a smiling, waving couple out front to welcome their guests.

  “Hello, everyone, and welcome to our home! My name is Carol Anne and this is my husband, Ronnie Thibodeaux.”

  “Please,” said Mr. Thibodeaux, in his extreme southern-Cajun accent. “Please, everyone, do leave your luggage; Abebe will see it gets to your rooms. Yolanda has made us all some pecan rolls, sweet tea, and lemonade. Ya’ll come on out by the pool and let’s do get acquainted.”

  Ronnie Thibodeaux had made millions of dollars in the natural gas industry. Because he was a huge donor, he was asked by a former president to serve as an ambassador to Mexico. As it turned out, Mexico held yet undiscovered, expansive pockets of natural gas. And as it also turned out, Ambassador Thibodeaux wasn’t just another political appointee. Not only did he help Mexico with its gas exploration and make them billions of dollars, he convinced some powerful and influential people the US and Mexico should do all it could to curtail the flow of narcotics into America. He became a trusted liaison between the State Department and Mexican authorities. All the while, with his gifted and gracious wife at his side, he held parties and fiestas well attended by some of Latin America’s richest and most dangerous drug lords. They were a friend to all and loved by everyone who fell under the spell of the Thibodeauxes. Thanks to him and his wife, informants were protected, corrupt officials and drug smugglers were arrested, and no one was ever the wiser. After retiring, Ronnie and Carol Anne Thibodeaux loved the climate of Chapala so much they built a home here, and felt it was their patriotic duty to continue to help in any way they could.

  The following morning, after Yolanda’s magical breakfast of buttermilk biscuits, scrambled eggs, bacon, fresh fruit, and freshly squeezed orange juice, a 1970s vintage Cadillac limousine arrived out front. It, too, was black and, while waxed and polished, it had certainly seen its share of Mexican highways. As Gabby stared through the plantation shutters, a driver opened the rear door and a tall and surprisingly handsome priest swung his legs and climbed out. He was dressed in a traditional black cassock with a white collar and what Gabby thought were expensive Italian loafers. Ronnie and Carol Anne were as welcoming as always.

  “Monsignor, how absolutely wonderful to see you—please do come in and meet everyone.”

  After the introductions and a walk around the house and grounds, Carol Anne and Ronnie took their leave; after a large carafe of coffee and a pitcher of sweet tea were provided, Yolanda disappeared as well.

  “It’s quite a remarkable place, wouldn’t you say?” asked Father Gonzalez.

  Everyone chimed in and gave their kudos to the beautiful surroundings and gracious hospitality of their hosts. Then, there was a pause and all eyes were on the monsignor.

  “I find myself in a position uncommon to men who have dedicated their lives to the church. However, my loyalties have always been with the sheep, and the shepherds must have compassion as Jesus had compassion. Don’t you agree, Señor Edgar—that is your name, is it not?”

  The priest’s eyes were locked on Joe as he waited for a response. Joe, who had been staring at a beautiful painting, looked back at Father Dominic.

  “A hired hand will run when he sees a wolf coming. He will abandon the sheep because they don’t belong to him and he isn’t their shepherd. And so the wolf attacks them and scatters the flock. He flees because he is a hired hand and cares nothing for the sheep.”

  The priest looked pleasantly surprised. He smiled, tilted his head, and added the next verses from John, Chapter 10 (NLT):

  “I am the good shepherd; I know my own sheep, and they know me, just as my Father knows me and I know the Father. So I sacrifice my life for the sheep.”

  Again, it was quiet for a moment until Piper decided to break the mood.

  “I’m wishing I had paid better attention in Sunday school.”

  Father Dominic laughed out loud and told Piper it was never too late. At that, Piper looked down at his shoes. Again the priest spoke, but his mood was much more sullen.

  “I am going to tell you some things I believe to be true; things from the lips of a dying man who cares very much about his soul. I know his history, I know the pain he has inflicted, and the evil things he has done. However, my sister, Señora Noella, has told me of other things. Almost a year ago, she began talking about a repentant man. Knowing my brother-in-law’s history, I avoided seeing him, with the exception of a few holy days where he handed me a large check, as if to pay for his sins. This past Christmas, Juan pulled me aside and asked if I would hear his confession. I told him it might be more appropriate if heard by another priest. He said it would be harder to tell me, and he felt as if he should do the hard thing. I asked him when he would like to do it and he said it must be soon. That is when I found out about the cancer. Suddenly, we were loudly interrupted as his daughter, who came running in screaming ‘Papa! Papa!’ then grabbed his hand and begged him to come and dance with her.

  “‘How can a man refuse such a thing?’ he said, and went to the party. Just after the celebration, Juan took his family to their home in Costa Rica. It was in the mountains, and they all loved it there. The only time he left was to go see Dr. Munoz, his oncologist in Guadalajara. Only his wife and four of his most trusted bodyguards were allowed to come. The children stayed with their nanny in Costa Rica. It was on one such visit for treatments when Juan learned his time was short, and I received the call from Noella. I arrived the next morning and Juan insisted that everyone leave the room and let him be alone with his priest. It was the first time he had ever called me that. Quite honestly, I was expecting a half-hearted confession from an arrogant monster, one who would offer God anything to heal him. What I got, instead, was a sincere and honest confession from a repentant man. After the confession, Juan looked at me and said he needed to tell me a story, and then he would ask for absolution and do whatever I asked of him. I agreed and was mesmerized as a story of murder, deceit, and betrayal unfolded. I thought as a priest in Mexico, I had heard everything. However, during this conversation, I learned of monsters even more evil than my brother-in-law. I also learned once his enemies and competitors confirmed Señor Espinoza’s illness, he became the old, crippled lion, running and hiding. Fortunately, he had a few
loyal soldiers who vowed to protect him and his family. Juan began to hear of atrocities and crimes for which he was blamed, but knew nothing about. Finally, it was the terrible death of those young girls from Guatemala that made his decision for him.”

  “And what decision was that, Father Gonzales?” asked Gabby.

  “He vowed he would begin to make restitution to the families and businesses he had hurt through his criminal activities. This is when he asked me to be an emissary between him and the families of the victims and when he asked me for absolution. I thought long and hard about this, about all the times Señor Espinoza had offered to write a check for his grievous sins and I told him it was not enough. I told him he must do everything in his power to stop those who had hijacked his empire and who would continue the work of Satan, the father of liars, rapists, murderers, and terrorists.”

  “What did he say?” asked Piper.

  “He said it was too much. He said they would kill his family. However, I reminded him of the promise he had made to me on Christmas day, that whatever I asked of him for absolution, he promised to do.”

  “And now?” asked Gabby.

  “We Catholics are superstitious people who believe certain saints, rituals, and even holidays are the same as God or His Son. It is a foolish mixture of pagan spiritualism and Christianity, which the Church has tolerated for a thousand years.”

  Father Gonzalez folded his hands in front of him, smiled, and continued.

  “However, with over a billion Catholics in the world, sometimes we allow such things and turn a blind eye. One of the late Holy Sees suggested in a meeting with one of his cardinals, that a little fear, even though misguided, has helped keep order for a millennium. Isn’t that right, Joe?” Everyone’s heads snapped up and looked at the priest.

  “America is not the only intelligence service in the world. The Holy Catholic Church also has faithful eyes and ears, even in your government. Do not worry, my friends, your secrets are safe with me; I am a priest, no? Now, Ms. Mendez, you asked what is next—Señor Juan Espinoza wishes to speak with you and Mr. Chandler. He said if I believed you, if I trusted you, and you agreed to let him die at home with his family, he would give you a name.”

  “It would have to be a pretty big name, Monsignor, and I would certainly need to clear all this with my superiors.”

  There was quite a pause as everyone processed the information, as well as what just happened. Finally, to no one’s surprise, Piper raised his hand.

  “Excuse me, Father, but do you know my real name and what I do?”

  “No, my son, I do not. However, I think it’s time you came home. I have time for your confession before I leave.”

  Father Dominic looked at Joe and winked. Joe smiled but like the others, sat there with an uneasy feeling. They were thinking about all the work, the intelligence, and all the cloak and dagger stuff that had gone into this mission and, suddenly, their covers had been blown wide open by a Mexican priest. However, a good man, he thought—one they could trust.

  “Well, goodness, Monsignor,” said Gabby. “You have certainly given us pause, and perhaps someday we might discuss security breaches with you.”

  “Yes, perhaps, my child, but again you have nothing to worry about.”

  “I certainly mean no offense to you, Father Gonzales, but I do worry. These are exactly the kinds of well-intended leaks that get me and my team killed. Nevertheless, Monsignor, we do appreciate your discretion in the matter, and I want to applaud your courage and conviction. These men, not unlike your brother-in-law, Señor Espinoza, are responsible for hundreds if not thousands of murders, rapes, mutilations, and the kidnapping of innocent girls—little girls to be used as sex slaves. Most of these girls, Monsignor Gonzales, are, as you said, your sheep. Not unlike yourself, Father, I also see myself as a shepherd, and if I can get close enough, I will put a bullet in the heads of these wolves.”

  Joe could see Gabby’s frustration intensifying and figured they had covered enough until they heard from Col. Pike.

  “Thank you, Father Dominic. I agree with my partner, you have indeed given us pause. I guess our only question, since Señor Espinoza did ask, is how soon and where?”

  “Yes, of course, my son. If your government will grant my brother-in-law immunity in exchange for certain information, and they will put it in writing, I will give you the email address of an attorney who will be expecting it. Afterwards, if you will call me at a number I will provide, I will arrange the meeting immediately.”

  They all stood and shook hands with the monsignor and started for the door. From seemingly nowhere, Ronnie Thibodeaux called from down a long hall.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, Your Excellency, of course, you will be staying for lunch. Yolanda has prepared chicken and wild rice, I believe, Monsignor Gonzalez’s favorite. Please, right this way to our garden room where we have prepared tables and seating to accommodate everyone. Monsignor, your driver is dining in the kitchen with Abebe and Yolanda. Please, everyone, right this way.”

  “My God,” Piper whispered to Gabby. “I really wish that guy was my uncle.”

  The four guests joined Carol Anne and Ronnie for a magnificent lunch before seeing the monsignor out to his car. Of course, Carol Anne and Ronnie were waving furiously. Joe nudged Gabby and nodded toward Piper, who was smiling and waving just as furiously.

  “I think he’s looking to be adopted,” whispered Gabby.

  “We should probably be getting back,” said Piper. “But I sure do love it here.”

  “Of course, you are all welcome to stay as long as you like,” said Carol Anne. “Honestly we don’t have any plans, and ya’ll are welcome to use the pool and tennis courts. We love to have guests.”

  “Boy, sounds good to me,” said Piper, perhaps a bit too quickly.

  However, Gabby made the decision for everyone. “You both must be a national treasure. Carol Anne, your home is stunning and all the more enjoyable thanks to your hospitality. We really do need to be going and if you could arrange transportation back to our plane, we would appreciate it.”

  “Of course, my dear, and on behalf of my husband and I, God bless you all, and thank you for your service to our great country.”

  CHAPTER 18

  THE DIRECTOR

  After Piper cleared the runway and got them airborne, he looked back to where Gabby and Joe had taken their seats.

  “Holy guacamole,” said Piper. “Talking about a game-changer.”

  Gabby looked at him and raised her eyebrows. “It’s a pity,” she said. “All these bullets and no one to shoot.”

  Joe looked at her a bit puzzled. “Really, Gabby, are you that disappointed that we may not have to kill someone?”

  “Look, Joe,” she snapped back. “I’ve been doing research, intel, planning, and field ops on this scumbag before you joined the military. I’ve seen what this sick bastard has done to innocent families and, yes, I am a little pissed that cancer is going to rob me of the chance to snuff out his worthless life. And by the way, Chandler, what was all that mumbo jumbo with the padre? I didn’t see anything in your file about you studying to be a priest. I sure as hell hope you don’t have a ‘Jesus loves me’ moment when I need you to have my back with that Glock 19, okay?”

  Joe looked out the window and decided it was best to let Gabby have her own moment. He understood how hard she had planned for a mission to kill a murderer, and now she may need to hold his hand as he died of cancer. Piper put them on the ground in Cozumel just under five hours from takeoff. Once the plane was stowed in the hangar and refueled, it was past dinnertime.

  “Okay, you two, what’s the plan? Are you going to sulk all night or shall we discuss our evening cuisine?”

  “Look, I need a shower,” said Gabby. “And then I need to wrap my head around this mess and get ready for a teleconference with the director tomorrow.”

  “Hey, no worries,” said Piper, looking at Joe. “How about you, amigo? What say we go let off some steam, have a f
ew beers, and let the boss sort this mess out; besides, tomorrow may never cometh.”

  Joe looked at Gabby, who still looked like she wanted to kill someone, then furrowed his brow and quoted Piper. “Tomorrow may never cometh?”

  “Yeah,” said Piper. “Isn’t that a quote from the Bible?”

  First Joe started chuckling and then Gabby, and when Joe erupted into bent-over laughter, both Gabby and Piper joined him and all three had a much-needed tears-running-down-their-face laugh.

  When she could finally breathe again, Gabby looked at the two boys and said, “I need pizza and beer, how about you?”

  They stayed out later than they should have, and Gabby probably had one too many. Piper, on the other hand, had several too many, and who knew you could do karaoke at a pizza parlor. Joe drove everyone back to the hotel and Piper crashed in his room. However, at 6:00 AM everyone’s phone began dinging and buzzing, notifying them of a 7:00 AM teleconference. After picking up coffees—large coffees—they were present and accounted for as the screen came to life, and they saw Director Raphael Valenzuela’s stern-looking face.

  “What the hell’s going on down there, Ms. Mendez? I expected a full report of your meeting with the monsignor on my desk this morning.”

  Gabby, completely aware she had blown off the report for a night out with the boys, started to apologize when Joe interrupted.

  “Excuse me, sir, I’m afraid that is my fault.”

  Piper held his breath, thinking Joe was going to out him for the karaoke, and Gabby could only watch.

  “And how exactly is it your fault, Sergeant Chandler?”

  “Well, sir, actually it was a text I received from Father Dominic after we were airborne. He said he had some extremely pertinent information to our mission and would email it to me once he could confirm its authenticity. Thinking the information might have a great bearing on the report, I asked Ms. Mendez to delay it until this morning, sir.”