The Cartel Strikes Back: The Ted Higuera Series, Book 5

by Pendelton Wallace

  Someone appeared from nowhere, with a brown bundle in his arms. Then another and another.

  “GO!” Gray screamed into his microphone. Sector six. I see five boys, they appear to be unarmed. The truck is a couple hundred yards out. Seal off the road.”

  ****

  “Chris, you take Flaco and his Special Forces guys up in the hills.” Catrina pointed to the brown hills above the old silver mine. “Ted, tell those three to find a good spot in the rocks and cactus. You come with me.

  She and Ted took up a position behind an old smoke stack.

  How come nothing ever happens on time in Mexico? She thought as they waited.

  About one a.m. a truck pulled into the dirt parking area and turned out its lights. Catrina could see the glow of two cigarettes being lit.

  Half an hour later, a second truck pulled up.

  “Do we give them a warning?” Ted asked.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Catrina answered. “We don’t know how many men are in those trucks. As soon as we let them know we’re here, they’ll come out firing.”

  Before Ted had a chance to respond, the side window of the first truck shattered and the driver’s head exploded in a puff of red and gray. An instant later, the snipers took the passenger out.

  The backdoors of the truck swung open and six men in bullet-proof vests came out shooting. The only problem was, they didn’t know what they were shooting at.

  The second truck opened and six more men jumped to the ground.

  Small flashes appeared in the hills above and two men dropped.

  Rifle fire opened up from the perimeter of the parking lot.

  The men from the trucks were trapped. They dropped to the ground and slithered towards cover.

  One prone man returned fire and Catrina heard a scream from the bushes.

  Her instincts were at a razor’s edge. She felt something behind her. She twirled and saw two men in combat gear running towards them. She raised her rifle, but they fired first.

  The bullets lifted Ted off of his feet and dumped him on the ground in a lump. He made a low groaning sound.

  Catrina snapped off four shots. One man flew backwards, the other one’s head exploded.

  “Ted?” She knelt and turned her partner over.

  Ted had a shit-eating grin on his face. “Did you get the number of that truck?”

  Catrina could see the two bullets buried in his Kevlar vest.

  “Look out!” Ted screamed.

  Catrina turned in time to see one of her victims lurch back to his feet. She flipped the lever on her M-16 and opened fire. Dozens of bullets smashed into the man. One hit his head and he was done.

  Catrina turned back to the fight in front of her. Six or seven men were down in the parking lot. The others kept up a steady rate of fire.

  “Come on, Higuera.” She slapped a new magazine in her rifle. “Let’s end this.”

  She ran around the smoke stack without even bothering to see if Ted was following. With her weapon on full automatic, she sprayed down the men firing from cover.

  Ted got close enough for his shotgun to be effective. He pulled the trigger and one man was bounced from the ground and came down face first.

  The three remaining men threw down their guns and raised their hands.

  “Por favor, do not shoot,” one man cried.

  “Hold your fire,” Catrina yelled.

  She and Ted inched up on the three men with their hands in the air.

  Two of Flaco’s men ran up to her.

  “Señora, quiere que compruebemos los camiones.”

  Catrina looked at Ted.

  “He wants to know if you want them to check out the trucks.”

  “Sure,” she gestured with her rifle towards the trucks. “Make sure there’s no one inside them, then set them on fire.”

  Ted translated and the men ran off towards the trucks.

  She turned back to their captives. They were worn, tired-looking men. Lean and underfed. They all shook at the knees.

  “Check them for weapons.” Catrina kept the barrel of her M-16 pointed at the men.

  Ted patted them down. “They’re clean.”

  “Tell them to take off their shoes. Throw them into the fire. We’ll let them go when we leave. Tell them who we are and what we want.”

  Ted turned to the captives. “You tell El Pozolero, Ted Higuera was here. I’m his worst nightmare. I won’t stop until I have Maria Gonzales back. If anything happens to her, he’s dead. You tell him that.”

  The snipers came down out of the hills. They checked on the fallen men. Those that were still alive were bandaged.

  Ted pulled out his cell phone and dialed the police.

  “There was a gun fight at the old silver mine at El Triunfo. There are injured men. You need to send an ambulance.”

  “You stay and take care of your friends,” Ted said to the captives. “An ambulance will be here in about half an hour.”

  Chapter 38

  “NOOO!” El Pozolero shouted and threw his glass across the room. It hit an expensive-looking vase that shattered. “It can’t be true. I will not let this insignificant ormiga threaten my business. This gringo dog.”

  Raul Ramirez, the jefe’s right hand man winced as the glass hit the vase. “I’m sorry, Jefe, but it is true. Two shipments last night. Our last tunnel in Tijuana was shut down. The transfer in El Triunfo destroyed. Ten men killed, three wounded. They left three alive to tell us about the ambush.”

  Raul took a long hit on his glass of tequila. “They didn’t even take the drugs. They burned them. What kind of men are these?”

  El Pozolero walked out onto the deck and put both hands on the railing. “These are men who are driven by a passion. They want the girl. If I give them the girl, they win. It’s clear what we have to do.”

  He turned to his subordinate. “It’s them or me. There is no longer any room for negotiation. They must be stopped. We have the girl, we don’t need this gringo messing up our plans.”

  “¿How should we do it, patron?”

  El Pozolero wandered back and forth like a caged animal. “We have a leak, a traitor in our organization. Someone is feeding him the information about our shipments. We will lay a trap for him. We will schedule a shipment too large, too juicy for him to resist. Then we will have an army of soldiers waiting for him. He will not escape.”

  ****

  Victoria Caballero was not exactly bored with the good life. She liked private jets, luxurious yachts, trips to the Riviera, filming in Hawaii. It was just so . . . ordinary. She did these things every day.

  When she got the phone call, she found it impossible to resist. To fly to Acapulco, meet with the most wanted man in the world on his own yacht.

  So what if he was a deluded megalomaniac? It would be an exciting adventure in her otherwise dull life.

  The Gulf Stream G5 he sent for her touched lightly down on the tarmac at Acapulco International Airport. An armored limousine waited for her.

  It was a short drive to the Club Yates de Acapulco. A tall, thin man with a scar from his left eye to his chin opened the door for her. He loaded her substantial baggage onto a cart and led her down the dock.

  She wore a white silk blouse, short Navy shorts, wedged heeled sandals and lots of diamonds. In the harsh Acapulco sun, the reflection was enough to burn the retinas of someone’s eyes.

  The thin man led her up the gangway onto the eighty-five foot motor yacht, El Destino. Her cabin met expectations. Rich teak walls, a king-sized bed, an ice bucket with Dom Perrier and a basket of fruit. All of the standard necessities were accounted for.

  “Señora, El Jefe will not be on the boat tonight. He will meet you tomorrow,” the thin man said, then turned and left the cabin.

  Not here? Who does he think he is? No one keeps Victoria Caballero waiting.

  Before she had a chance to raise an objection, she felt the boat moving. Turning to the stateroom port hole, she saw the dock moving aw
ay from her.

  Where were they going? Was this really safe?

  The big yacht plowed through the water at an impressive speed, then dropped anchor in a tropical cove.

  Victoria toured the boat. The large saloon was empty. The guest cabins unoccupied. She finally found people in the pilot house.

  “Where is everybody?” She asked a man in uniform.

  “Señora Caballero, I am your capitán, Enrique Morelos.” The man bowed before her like she was royalty. “I’m afraid there are no other guests on this trip.”

  She liked the way he addressed her.

  “Surely there must be some way to pass the time?”

  The captain took her by the arm and led her out of the pilot house onto the sun deck. “There are many ways to pass the time. We have water toys, fishing gear, a tender, a library, a big screen TV and many DVDs.”

  “It’s all too boring. I want to invite some friends. Can you go get them?”

  The sun baked down on the teak deck. Victoria felt the heat warming her bones.

  “I suppose we could arrange something. I can send the tender for them.”

  Victoria settled for sunbathing. In her skimpiest bikini, she climbed the stairs to the sun deck with a bottle of sun screen in one hand and a magazine in the other.

  She found a soft chaise lounge on the deck and made herself comfortable.

  So, he is going to keep me a prisoner here. I might as well have a little fun.

  She unhooked her bra and set in on the table beside her.

  The sun felt so good all over her body. Her bottoms came off and she grabbed her bottle of sun screen and began applying it.

  The steward appeared from nowhere. “Would you like a refreshment, miss?”

  He was obviously uncomfortable. When he swallowed, his Adams Apple bobbed up and down.

  “Um . . . yes. Bring me a mojito please.”

  “Would the señorita like a fruit and cheese plate with it?”

  “That would be fine.”

  He left and she smiled. As far as she could tell, the entire crew of the yacht was male. This was going to be fun.

  About seven that evening, a fast motorboat pulled alongside with six elegantly dressed people. Victoria stood at the rail and waved.

  “Yoo-hoo. I am up here. Margarita, how good to see you. Dominick, I am so glad you could make it.”

  The people looked up at her and showed no surprise. If they hadn’t seen her naked in person before, they had all seen her magnificent body in films.

  The party lasted late into the morning. The chef prepared a splendid meal around a freshly caught sea bass cooked in the Veracruzana style. The bartender knew his business and Victoria was falling-down drunk shortly into the night.

  She didn’t know how it happened, but she awoke the next morning with two men in her bed and a couple sound asleep on the floor.

  She tiptoed through the mess of clothes and people to the head, then went in search of coffee. Her friend Margarita was sleeping naked on a settee in the main saloon.

  The steward brought her coffee and pan dulce.

  “Señora,” he said. “Your friends will have to leave. El Jefe will be here soon. Shall I wake them up?”

  “Yes, whatever.” Victoria took that first sip of coffee.

  Oh, nectar of the gods. This must be how you start your day in heaven.

  Before she was finished with her light breakfast, the steward was shepherding her friends back onto the tender.

  “Bye bye, darlings,” she waved from the rail. “It was beautiful. I’ll see you all when I get home.”

  And the motorboat was gone.

  She heard a heavy clanking from up forward, then the yacht started moving.

  Where are we going now?

  In a couple of hours, the land dropped below the horizon and Victoria was surrounded by the blue Pacific in every direction.

  Dressing in a short skirt, see-through blouse and lacy black bra, she headed up to the pilot house. This was where all the action was. A man stood at the wheel and the captain sat in a large, leather chair. He gave instructions and the crew jumped.

  “He’s due anytime, sir,” one of the crewman said.

  “Good, alter course to intercept him.”

  Victoria watched with interest as the crew prepared the boat.

  Finally, she saw a black dot on the horizon. It increased in size at an unbelievable speed.

  The dot became a solid black object with a wave of white in front of it. As it got closer, it began to resemble something out of a James Bond movie.

  It was long, thin and black. It looked like some sort of prehistoric monster with a sharply sloping deck from the bow to the pilot house. Armor plates made it look like a giant sturgeon. The boat moved with such speed it took Victoria’s breath away.

  She’d never seen anything like that before. “What kind of boat is that?” she asked the captain.

  “It is very special, señora. It is a stealth boat. El Jefe uses it to run drugs to the United States. The American Coast Guard can’t see it on their radar.”

  The fast boat, almost as long as El Destino, slowed and pulled alongside. A hatch in the rear opened and a fiberglass speedboat emerged. Sitting on the leather seat across the back of the boat was the man.

  When the speedboat pulled alongside the swim platform, El Pozolero gingerly hopped from one boat to the other. He waved to the speedboat’s driver and entered the boat bay of the yacht.

  A tingle of excitement ran through Victoria. She was about to meet the most powerful man in Mexico.

  ****

  Raul Ramirez led the raid himself. His people discovered that Higuera and his friends were staying in Ricky’s condo in La Paz. He took ten men, all armed with automatic weapons and Kevlar vests.

  The front door to the building was conveniently left unlocked. They made their way to the top floor which was unusually empty.

  Raul pointed to two men and the door of the unit to the left of Ricky’s condo. His informant said that bodyguards lived in the units on both sides of his target. He then pointed to two others and at the door to the right of the condo.

  His subordinates took their stations.

  Raul nodded to a short, skinny man. El Bombadero Loco dropped to his knees and pressed plastic explosives on the first door. There was no way they could kick in the steel door. He repeated the process on the other two doors.

  “Cuidado!” the little man shouted and pushed the button on the small box he held in his hand. The doors blew inward. The armed men entered the units, guns blazing.

  “Álto!” Raul screamed.

  The shooting came to a halt.

  Raul looked around. There was no sign of habitation.

  “Mierde!”

  ****

  “Señora Caballero, El Jefe would like you to join him for dinner tonight,” the captain said. “Be in the dining saloon by six.”

  Victoria returned to her cabin and began the exhausting process of choosing her wardrobe for the night.

  She settled for a little black dress with a low cut neckline and a large black silk rose attached to the belt. Of course, she wore her Lolly in the Sky platforms and piled on the diamonds.

  The steward had a martini ready for her when she entered the dining room. She almost objected, she preferred dirty martinis, but after tasting the drink, changed her mind.

  She stood at the window, watching the sun set to the west.

  “It is beautiful, no?” El Pozolero entered the room.

  He wore khaki slacks and an open collared shirt with a thick gold chain around his neck.

  “Very. I always adore sunsets,” Victoria said. “They bring on the promise of a night of adventure.”

  “Just so. I see that Paco has provided you with a drink.” El Pozolero picked up his glass from the bar. “Would you like hors d’oeuvres?”

  Victoria glided over to the bar. Spread on the counter were smoked salmon, sliced baguettes, cream cheese, oysters with granita and ta
quitos.

  “Mmmm, this looks good.” She reached for an oyster.

  She slid the raw mollusk down her throat and smiled, wiping her lip.

  El Pozolero slipped next to her and put his arm around her waist. “You are even more beautiful in person than you are in the movies.”

  She lifted her glass in a toast, but didn’t reply.

  “You said you had a business proposition for me, Jefe?”

  “So, you are direct, no?” He raised his empty glass to the bartender. “I have an idea for a movie. I have already talked to Mac McCarthy about it. He thinks you would be perfect for the lead.”

  Victoria picked up a taquito. “So, why didn’t he talk to my agent?”

  “He thought you might be reluctant to do this film. He thought I would have more power of persuasion.”

  “Comida, patron,” the steward announced.

  El Pozolero waved his hand towards the table in a gentlemanly fashion.

  While the steward served caldo de queso soup, El Pozolero continued. “It is my life story.”

  Victoria took a spoonful of the soup. It was marvelous. “I’m sure it is a compelling story, but I have some doubts about your project.”

  “What doubts? You haven’t even heard about the story yet.”

  “With all due respect, you have to realize, you are the most wanted man in the world. If we start this film, then you are captured, or worse yet, killed, how would we complete it?”

  “Don’t you worry about that. You must realize there is a reason why I am still free. I own the police. I own most of the congress. El Presidente owes his election to me. I will not be caught.”

  “What about the Americans? Surely you don’t own the DEA?”

  El Pozolero laughed. “As long I remain in Mexico they can’t touch me. They can’t run their own operations in this country. Every time they mount a raid, my informants let me know about it far in advance. They are a castrated organization.”

  “You must understand that I hesitate to work with an international criminal, no matter how charming he is.”

  The steward removed the soup dishes and returned with antojitos, this time small tamales and ceviche tostadas.