by Navi' Robins
“Special Agent Turner? Answer the god damn question!”
“Okay! Okay! My mission was to get close to Rose Ayala and when we went out on our first date, I was supposed to let those men rape and kill her before I neutralized the threat,” Brian yelled back, refusing to look his superior in his eyes.
“And why was that particular portion of your mission crucial to its success?”
“Because her death would draw Hector out, along with the majority of his men from his compound and as they battle the Escorpiones in Chalco, it would make it easier for me to infiltrate his mansion and locate the nuclear device.”
“Exactly…Ex-fucking xactly!” Donald yelled back at Brian. “Now we got shit…you hear me, Brian? We got jack shit because you couldn’t separate your heart from your dick. We understood you might have to become intimate with the bitch, but catching feelings was not a part of the mission. I can’t fucking believe you let the Ayala bitch live! Especially knowing the entire mission depended on her dying by the hands of the Escorpiones! Jesus fucking Christ, Brian! What is it with you?”
“I don’t know, sir,” Brian responded, throwing his hands up. “I didn’t plan on that happening, but it did. But I’m willing to do whatever needs to be done to make this right. There’s too much at stake for us to give up now.”
“Who said anything about giving up? Oh, you’re gonna see this mission through, Special Agent Turner, even if it kills you. You’re gonna see this through. The fate of the entire planet rests on your shoulders.”
“I know that, sir!”
“Your actions don’t show me you do. But let’s not continue to cry over spilled milk or the lack thereof. By some divine favor, a new development has arisen that should prove more effective than killing the Ayala bitch.”
Brian cringed every time the man called Rose a bitch and he wanted to yell at him about disrespecting her, but then he remembered his major screw up and the fact he’d just called Rose a bitch not too long ago himself. The man noticed Brian’s reaction every time he called Rose a bitch and grinned, deciding to use the term as much as he could to get under Brian’s skin.
“On the day of your arrival, Hector’s people spread a rumor that the buyer would be coming in at the Mexico City airport. As we already know, that was a trap and Hector’s men ambushed the Escorpiones. But the trap was also set to try and expose another agent we placed in their organization. We haven’t heard from him since the attack at the airport, so we are assuming he’s been removed from the equation. Hopefully, not like the agent you’re replacing; they are still mailing pieces of him to us. But the good news is we now know the buyer is actually coming in tomorrow via mobile transport. He will be heavily guarded with around thirty armed men. Your mission is to neutralize his security detail and retrieve the buyer alive, and bring him back to our black site for interrogation. That is your mission, nothing more and nothing less. Oh, and stay away from the Ayala bitch. She is no longer your mission. Do you hear me, Brian? Do not go near or contact her again.”
“Yes sir, but why am I keeping the buyer alive? Isn’t neutralizing the buyer the most efficient way to prevent the transaction from being completed?”
“Agent, your purpose here in Mexico City is to follow orders, not question them. You’ve already fucked up enough. Don’t compound it by growing a brain. Now get to it! You only have twelve hours to prepare before execution!”
THIRTEEN HOURS LATER, FORTY MILES OUTSIDE OF CHALCO
Ahmed Basara looked out the armored jeep’s window, staring at his reflection with nervous anticipation. He’d been on the road for three days, traveling over some of Mexico’s most dangerous terrain, trying to avoid the main roads to make sure the Federales didn’t intercept him. Running his hand through his dark brown straight hair, Ahmed leaned back in his seat and caught one of the guards staring at him. Trying to look away and ignore him, he noticed the guard continued to stare, rarely blinking. No longer able to play the staring game in such a small space, Ahmed decided to verbally confront his antagonist.
“What is it?” Ahmed asked in a heavy Syrian accent. “Why are you staring at me?” The guard continued to stare at him without responding.
“Do you speak English? Does he speak English?” Ahmed asked the other four men surrounding him in the jeep. No one responded, so Ahmed decided to let the guard and everyone else in the jeep know the type of person they were dealing with. Leaning forward, he began to speak loudly while calling out each of the guard’s names, addresses, family member’s names and dates of birth—all in fluent Spanish. His outburst alarmed the men and they all began yelling at Ahmed and threatening him.
He smiled; satisfied he got their attention and responded, “Si algo me llegara a pasar, todos y cada miembro de su familia sufrirá algo peor que la muerte. Sus nombres serán agregados a lista de terroristas; Interpol, Mossad, Kremlin, Inteligencia de Korea del Norte, y una multitud de otras agencias de servicios secretos y estarán alertados sobre su estatus. Serán perseguidos, atrapados y torturados por información que no tienen y finalmente asesinados. Si no quieren que esto pase les sugiero que le digan a ese perro guardián que deje de estar mirándome y los demás cállense el hocico y déjenme pensar en paz.”
(“Anything happens to me, each and every one of your family members will suffer fates worse than death. Their names will be added to the terrorist watch list; Interpol, Mossad, Kremlin, North Korean Intelligence and countless other secret service agencies will be alerted of their status. They will be hunted down, captured and tortured for information they don’t have and eventually killed. So, if you don’t want that to happen, I would suggest you tell your watch dog over there to stop staring at me and the rest of you shut the fuck up and let me think in peace.”)
Once he was done voicing his threat, the entire interior of the jeep went silent. Noticing the peace and quiet, Ahmed smiled and leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. The guards all looked at each other confused, but none of them wanted to utter another word and test if Ahmed was full of shit or a man of his word. Also, Hector found him so valuable, he allocated thirty of his most skilled guards to protect him, so they all decided it was too much of a gamble to test him. Suddenly, the entire jeep shook violently and Ahmed looked out the window in time to see burning pieces of metal fly past the window and fall down the deep ravine that ran alongside the dirt road they’d been traveling on for the last three hours.
The jeep came to a violent halt as the guards began screaming and jumping out of the jeep. Ahmed climbed down on the floor as he heard an intense gun battle raging outside. The guards kept screaming, “Donde esta el?” (Where is he?) and then a loud bump would echo inside the jeep, and Ahmed knew another guard went down. The battle raged on for several minutes and then, a silence that seemed to chill Ahmed’s blood as he waited for his turn to come.
I knew I should’ve stayed my ass in Syria.
He could hear someone walking around the jeep and firing one shot after the other and Ahmed assumed whomever it was didn’t want to leave any witnesses. The hairs on his arms and back of his neck stood straight up as he heard someone grip the handle on the jeep and pull it open. The person's head was covered in a black ski mask but the look in their eyes made the Syrian’s skin crawl. Ahmed lifted his hands in the air once the man aimed his weapon at him.
“Māismak?” (What’s your name?) the masked man asked in perfectly pronounced Arabic.
“Ismi Ahmed Basara.” (My name is Ahmed Basara.)
“Hal tatahaddath al'iinjlizia?” (Do you speak English?)
“Yes sir, I do.”
“Great, step out of the jeep slowly with your hands up. If you try anything, I will blow your kneecaps off.”
“There’s no need for violence, sir, I will come willingly. Just don’t shoot me,” Ahmed responded, as he slowly stepped out of the jeep with his hands above his head.
“Turn around and shut the fuck up!”
Ahmed slowly turned around, the terrifying reality that this masked man might
shoot him in the back caused him to shiver like he was just dipped in ice water. Once his back was facing his captor, he felt an intense amount of pain explode on the back of his neck, and then his unconscious body hit the ground…
THREE HOURS LATER
Brian stood over Ahmed’s unconscious body tied to a metal chair. He slowly removed one of his black leather gloves, pulled his arm back over his head, and smacked Ahmed across the face; knocking his prisoner and the chair to the floor. The sudden pain and loss of balance caused Ahmed to wake up and scream out in pain and terror. The hard-concrete floor collided with his jaw, making him cringe as he felt a new cut form in his mouth. Trying to look around, Ahmed noticed a pair of combat boots moving towards him and he looked up to see a sweaty black man staring down at him with a look of pure rage in his eyes. Brian placed his boot on Ahmed’s cheek and leaned forward, putting all of the weight of his two hundred and twenty-pound frame on his face. Ahmed screamed out in pain, begging Brian to stop.
“Stop! Stop! I’ll tell you whatever you want to know! You don’t have to torture me. I swear I’ll tell you whatever you want, Mr. Turner!”
Brian kneeled down in front of Ahmed and placed his gun on his forehead. “How the fuck do you know my name? Are you Syrian intelligence? So, is it the Syrian government that wants the nuclear device?” Brian asked, while removing the safety on his handgun.
“No! No! Please no,” Ahmed screamed. “I am not Syrian intelligence. I am simply a hacker. Nothing more!”
“Being a hacker isn’t a simple occupation,” Brian responded, while pressing the nozzle of his gun harder against Ahmed’s forehead.
“Okay, okay, you’re right. It isn’t. But I don’t know anything about a nuclear device!” “Don’t lie to me, Ahmed! I will fuck you up so bad; you’ll wish you were dead!”
“I swear, on the name of Allah, I swear.” “Swear to me, you baby killing motherfucker!”
“I am here to sell, not buy! I know who you are because Hector knows who you are! I was supposed to arrive in Mexico weeks ago. On the same day you arrived, but Hector knew you were coming, so he postponed our meeting and set a trap for the Escorpiones instead.”
Brian rose to his feet and seemed to stumble backward as he placed his right hand that was holding the gun against the side of his head. Seeing his confusion, Ahmed frantically tried to push himself over while he continued to speak.
“Hector knows everything about you; he knows about the secret agency you work for and how you were planted at Optec Oil to spy on his cartel. He knows that, because most high-ranking board members of Optec Oil are also high ranking members of the Martillo de Dioses cartel.”
“Bullshit!” Brian yelled back at Ahmed.
“No bullshit, Mr. Turner,” Ahmed responded, while shaking his head violently.
“We would know; there’s no way he could slip members in that company without my agency knowing!”
“True, unless Optec Oil and the Martillo de Dioses cartel are one and the same.”
“What the fuck did you just say?”
“I said Optec Oil and the Martillo de Dioses cartel were once operated by the same people.”
“I should cut out your lying tongue!” Brian yelled, while pulling out a ten-inch blade.
“No! Please! I’m telling you the truth. Hector and Rose’s grandparents, Griselda and Hiram Mendoza, started Optec Oil almost a hundred years ago. Their influence grew as they secretly bought up every oil reserve in the Middle East when oil prices were dirt-cheap. This move forced all the other big oil companies to rely on them for their oil, which a lot of very powerful people didn’t like very much. Soon after they brokered the deal that would give them the rights to Iraqi oil, there were several failed assassination attempts on Griselda and Hiram. Not wanting to put their family at risk, they kept their children and grandchildren’s identities a secret. This move made it almost impossible for anyone to connect Hector and Rose to Optec Oil and it appears they did a hell of a job, with that dumbfounded look you now have on your face.”
Brian slowly turned the gun to the side and aimed it down at Ahmed, clearly annoyed by his insult. Noticing Brian’s reaction, Ahmed apologized, cleared his throat and continued, “Griselda and Hiram’s attempt to hide their heirs eventually backfired on them once they were murdered. Their competitors managed to take the company away from the Mendozas in one of the most hostile takeovers in business history. Left with nothing, the Mendozas decided to diversify their portfolio and deal in illegal drugs, thus the Martillo de Dioses was born. Their uncle Tito ran the cartel until he and his sons were murdered by the CIA.”
“That’s a fucking lie! Hector murdered Tito Mendoza and took over the Martillo de Dioses cartel!”
“Wow, you Americans really believe everything your government tells you, huh? Tito Mendoza and his sons were murdered in a car bomb, not a hit squad like the media reported. Hector took over soon after.”
“So, if that’s true, what would a drug lord need with a computer hacker? What are you selling?”
Ahmed remained silent and Brian immediately fired a shot towards his head, missing on purpose but making sure it was so close, Ahmed could feel the heat of the bullet whizzing past his ear.
“Alright! Alright! I’m selling a virus that can access the Swiss bank accounts of all the dead war criminals and dictators over the last sixty years.” Ahmed blurted out so quickly, Brian almost didn’t understand what he’d just said.
“More lies! No one can do that. That’s impossible! Swiss bank security encryptions are next generation!”
“You are correct and I would know, because I’m the man who designed and maintained that encryption. When I designed their new security software, I left a backdoor for my Trojan software, just in case my employers tried to screw me out of my agreed twenty percent, which they did. At first, I wanted to steal from active bank accounts, but when I did more digging, I found out that there is over sixty-four billion dollars of unclaimed money that these now deceased former heads of states left behind in Swiss bank accounts. I knew I didn’t have the connections to steal all that money alone, so I did more research and found out just how vast the Martillo de Dioses cartel is.
Martillo de Dioses cartel has a network that spans the entire globe. And it was their access that led me to them. I knew they had the connections in the financial sector that would be capable of pulling off the biggest bank heist in world history. It didn’t take long for me to convince them to help me, once they found out that I wasn’t the only one trying to gain access to those bank accounts.”
“The U.S. government…” Brain interjected, while rolling his eyes.
“Not entirely, but yes. A few of your higher-ranking government officials want access to that money for themselves and they contracted your agency to capture me and steal my software. This job needed to be covert, so they knew they had to send their best. They knew no other agent could do this job alone beside their most skilled and ruthless operative, Special Agent Brian Turner. So, it appears they lied to you and told you there’s a nuclear device, instead of telling you that you were involved in a U.S. sanctioned bank robbery. They must’ve known you would’ve said no…such integrity, which is impressive in my book. But the reality is, Mr. Turner, your mission isn’t about saving lives. It’s about greed.”
“None of this makes any sense. Hector isn’t the ripest apple on the branch and if he already knew who I was, why did he let me go? Even after finding out I slept with his sister.”
“Wait! You had sex with Rose?” Ahmed asked; his voice laced with alarm and jealousy.
“Yep, I did,” Brian responded with pride.
“Wait…wait…wait…wait…wait,” Ahmed mumbled repeatedly. “Mr. Turner, you’re absolutely correct. That doesn’t make sense and I agree; the first time I met Hector I felt the same way you do. He’s a hot-headed buffoon and don’t have the smarts to run such a network that the Martillo de Dioses controls. But from my experience, he’s the one running things
and he’s overprotective of his sister, and has killed numerous men and women that have been sexually involved with her.”
“Wait! Did you just say women?”
Looking up at Brian with a sly smirk on his face, Ahmed asked, “Oh, you didn’t know?”
Brian gritted his teeth and gestured for Ahmed to keep talking.
“Okay, very well. From my experience, he should’ve killed you at least three times, but somehow even knowing who you really were, he let you live.”
“How do you know so much about them?”
“It’s my job to know everything about anyone I’m doing business with, especially in the bank robbery business. We aren’t stealing the money in the teller’s drawer at your local Chase branch; we are hitting the Swiss banking system for sixty-four billion dollars. So, for my peace of mind, I needed to know everything about everyone involved.”
“So, what would Hector want with access to sixty-four billion dollars?”
Ahmed looked up at Brian and twisted his mouth to the right side of his face, while shaking his head before responding, “That can’t be a serious question.”
Noticing the serious look on Brian’s face, Ahmed surprisingly responded, “Oh, it is? I guess we can’t all be geniuses,” he mumbled under his breath. “He wants his legacy back and all he needs is ten billion to buy majority shares of Optec Oil and take it back from the U.S. government.”
“The U.S. government?”
“Yes, your government is the majority shareholder of Optec Oil, or they have a representative who’s posing as the CEO who holds majority. Optec Oil is the perfect front for the U.S. government to infringe on sovereign countries’ oil reserves, posing as a publicly traded company. After nine eleven, Optec Oil, alongside the U.S. military, took ahold of the Iraqi Oil reserves and sold the oil to fund the war of terror. That whole “oil for food” campaign was a front and they used Hector and Rose’s inheritance to do it. Talk about irony.”
“So, Rose is involved in all this.”