“Shit, man, take her. They love you, those Patrónes. Even if they find out, you know it'll work out. Plus, man, maybe you'll get laid.”
“Go to hell. It's not like that.”
“Oh yeah, 'cause she can't walk and stuff. Why you want her so bad, then?”
“I'm sorry I called you.”
“I just teasing, Cuz. I seen her. She's gorgeous, but be careful. Take her to see her brother. It will make her happy and I don't think anyone would be too mad at you for making the Señor Rodriguez's daughter happy. Good luck, Cuz. Gotta go, Emilio is on his way over. We got a meeting with some new buyers tonight. It's getting big. Real big.”
“Right. Listen. Don't mention our conversation to Emilio.”
“No problema. You do your thing.”
Alex hung up the phone, not sure if taking advice from Hector was a good idea, but he did want to hear it from someone else that it was an okay thing to do. Even though, Alex figured it probably wouldn't please Javier. The facts were that Alex wanted to take Bella to Mexico City, away from the watchful eye of the servants. And that he desperately wanted to be completely alone with her.
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
MORE THAN TWO HUNDRED PEOPLE SAT IN THE PEWS OF THE church where Father Miguel delivered his sermon in the city of Cuernavaca, a place of spiritual roots and more wealth than most of the places he'd spoken in, other than the seaside resort type areas where his audiences were small. However, they'd been growing with each lecture, and today the audience before him was proof that the crusade was working.
His next stop would be Mexico City. With each town and city in which he spoke, Miguel's convictions grew. Julio had shown him the pictures of innocent slain victims, including women and children, all murdered in the name of money and drugs. And with each returned letter he received from his sister, his belief in what he was doing became stronger.
“The politicians of this country do not work in the name of God. They are not trying to better your circumstances at home. They are not working for the people.” He went on to quote from the Book of Romans. He then recited a list of names he believed were enemies of the people and enemies of the Lord. Javier Rodriguez was one of those names.
After the hour-and-a-half service was over, Miguel was drained. As he lay his head down on his pillow that night, he wondered how much time he had left to live. He knew that the implications of his crusade could have deadly consequences for him. He imagined that sooner or later, regardless of his bodyguards, his enemies would catch up to him.
*****
PEDRO RUBBED HIS PALMS TOGETHER, EYEING EMILIO. They were seated at an outdoor café in Los Angeles. Emilio had insisted Pedro come there to see him, in order to put their plan into play. Pedro didn't like L.A. Too many people, too many noises. He preferred the serenity his country held for him rather than the glamour of the big American city. Plus, he didn't like Americans and their pompous attitudes. They had no culture, no history. It was with disdain that Pedro sat across from a man he would normally consider an enemy, or at the very least an opponent. But he had nowhere else to turn.
“We've been struck with luck, my friend. I had one plan at first on how to deal with Alejandro, but it seems that something interesting has happened, and a new plan has been created with great ease.” Emilio winked at a buxom blonde who set their hamburgers down.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I've been told that Alejandro and Isabella are taking a trip together, while Antonio and Javier are away.”
“I don't know anything about this. There's no way Javier would ask them to go on a trip anywhere. Isabella isn't even aware of her father's businesses. I certainly doubt he'd have her travel with one of his thugs.”
“He asked him to stay with her and not you.”
Pedro's grip tightened around his cola. He snarled. “That's because he had me ending business elsewhere.”
“Which I can see that you're doing.”
“Fuck you, Emilio. You asked me here. You said that you had a plan. What is it? Quit wasting my time, because I do have business elsewhere, and the sooner I get out of this place the happier I'll be.”
“Yes, you do have business elsewhere. In Mexico City.”
“Since when do you tell me where I'm supposed to be?”
“Since you decided to join me in eradicating the thorn in our side.”
Pedro looked out at the street, cars speeding by. He closed his eyes and sighed. “Tell me.”
“Isabella misses her brother. As you know, Father Diaz is causing quite a problem for us. He is working with the DEA from what our sources say, and he is vigilant in his efforts to bring us down.”
“He's a priest. He can't hurt us. Leave him alone.” Pedro had always liked Miguel. In a way he understood the boy's need for revenge. He remembered himself at that age and leaving his father's home, only to return to kill him and find refuge in another family. What Miguel had chosen to do was not much different. Javier had banished him from the family. He'd chosen the church and his country as his new family, and hoped the death of the positive reputation of the man he once called father would thoroughly tarnish his reputation and bring him down from his throne. It couldn't be done. Javier and Antonio retained too much wealth and too much power for Miguel to ever succeed. However, Pedro, although against the crusade and angry that the DEA was using the kid, respected him and understood him for it.
“Can't hurt us? The little people listen to God, and even some of the big people. He's hurting us.”
“What does this have to do with Isabella and Alejandro? I don't see how Miguel is a part of the destruction of that peon with an ego too big for him.”
Emilio lit a cigarette, offered one to Pedro who hesitated before taking it. By the time they were finished with their smokes, Emilio had laid everything out and explained how Miguel fit into the plan. Pedro shook his head, not ready to agree to it.
“This is the best way to get him out of our lives and to get him away from Isabella. Isn't that what you want?”
“You have more than the motive of getting rid of Alejandro at stake.”
“True. But, you have to admit, it is necessary that we do this.”
After listening to Emilio and taking into consideration what he had to say, he finally nodded his head in agreement. By the following day's end, Alejandro would no longer be a problem.
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
ALEX HAD BEEN ABLE TO CONVINCE THE SERVANTS AND others at Javier's hacienda that he was taking Bella to see her father. He knew that if he were caught in this lie, he could possibly be banished from the business and the family. But when he saw the adoration in Bella's eyes when she spoke of her brother, he knew that bringing her to Mexico City was the right thing to do.
She smiled sweetly at him as she turned from the hotel's reception desk, a message in her hand. She rolled her chair over to him and handed him the note. “My brother received my message this morning and he'd be delighted to see us today.”
“I'm so happy for you,” Alex said and bent down, giving her a kiss on the cheek, after reading over the message. “We better get going, though. The note says he'll be expecting us at one o'clock and that's only a half an hour away.”
“Good, good.” She clapped her hands. “Can we walk? I want to enjoy the city. Do we have time?”
“Perhaps. I don't think it's too far. It's a residence only a few blocks from here. I think that's a great idea.” He smiled at her.
As he rolled her out into the bright, crisp day, Bella turned her head to the side. “I noticed that you brought the knife that I gave you for Christmas.”
Alex laughed. “You notice everything. I love it. I know it's for whittling, but for the time that we're here in Mexico City it's also for protection. I brought it because we're here alone and I have to make sure that nothing happens to you.”
“Nothing will happen to me.”
“I know, especially since I have this knife.” He felt for it in his back pocke
t.
As they crossed the street, a group of children around ten or so, clamored around them, some behind them, some in front, laughing and gawking at Bella's chair. Alex told them to go away.
They arrived at the home where Father Miguel was staying. A guard stood at the entrance and after they identified themselves, let them through. Following another guard, a bald, angry looking large man dressed in black, Alex rolled Bella through the entry and down the hall leading to Miguel's' room. The guard's dark eyes never met either one of theirs, and Alex found it odd that he was the one protecting Miguel. However, what Miguel was doing was dangerous, and Alex knew it was almost as dangerous for him to be here. He was, in fact, a part of the group the priest was trying to destroy. He was also Isabella's brother and Alex could not deny her this visit.
The bodyguard said to Bella, “Father Miguel has asked that you wait here for a moment. He has something to say to your guest first.”
She looked puzzled and turned her face up to Alex. “I don't understand.”
“It's all right. I'll go in and see him. I'm certain it will only be a moment.”
“I suppose if that's what my brother has requested, then I'll wait.”
“I'll wait with you, Señorita,” the bodyguard said.
Something about the way the man said it didn't sit well with Alex, but he went inside the door that the bodyguard opened for him and closed it behind him.
The priest had his chair turned so that the high back of it was facing Alex. The room was a study, and Alex assumed that Miguel was looking through the books on the shelves he faced.
Alex cleared his throat. “Father. Hello. I was told that you wanted to see me. I'm Alejandro Peña. You obviously know that I've escorted your sister here to see you. She's very excited about the visit.” He paused waiting to see if he'd receive a response from Miguel. “That said, if you want to tell me what you need of me, it would probably be nice to get the anticipation over for Isabella.”
Miguel still did not turn around or say anything. Alex brought his palms up to his face as in prayer and breathed deeply, letting out a long sigh, figuring that the priest wanted to take up the fact that Alex worked for the very enemy he wanted to destroy. He was sure that Miguel had asked around about who he was and discovered that he wasn't simply Isabella's friend.
“Listen, Father Diaz, I'm only here as a friend of Isabella's. I have no ulterior motives. She desperately wants to see you. She's missed you a great deal, and my goal is to make her happy. The time with you means so much to her.”
Alex thought he heard a type of gurgling sound as if maybe Miguel was clearing his throat, but it wasn't exactly like that. Alex approached the desk and the chair. “Please, Father, what do you need from me?” Alex asked.
When Miguel didn't respond again, Alex hesitantly came closer to the desk. He blinked and then stared at the object on the desk, half hidden under a stack of papers. It took him almost a minute to register what he was seeing. He felt his back pocket. His knife was missing. The kids on the street. He picked up the knife on the desk. The one Bella had given him. It was his. His initials were there on the knife and it was covered in blood. He went around to the other side of the desk to the chair the priest was in. The man looked at him, his eyes filled with horror as his body shuddered and all of the life left him. Blood streaked down the front of his white cassock, looking like a sacrificial lamb that had been slaughtered. Alex shook his head and backed away from the scene, his stomach dropping filled with nausea. “No, no, no,” he moaned.
A tap at the door sounded. It opened and in came Isabella, who saw that her brother's throat had been slit and his tongue pulled through the back of his mouth in what was known in the drug world as a Colombian necktie. She froze and as it registered what she was seeing, and as she looked at Alex holding the knife, she howled.
The bodyguard plowed through the door, knocking a stunned Alex to the ground and taking the knife from his hand. Soon after, the bodyguard from outside and another man were in the room. One of them hit Alex hard across the head. The room whirled and Bella's screams resounded in his ears as his world went black.
*****
ALEJANDRO GAGGED FROM THE ROTTEN FECAL STENCH inside the dismal cell. He retched, holding his stomach, which contained nothing but bile. No one had brought food to him in more than forty-eight hours. After he'd lost consciousness, he found himself being slapped awake, a group of policemen standing over him. Bella was nowhere in sight and he kept asking for her, but they ignored his pleas.
They dragged him to his feet, handcuffing him. His mind shouted, “This is all a mistake.” However, he knew that his protests would be useless.
His body ached from the beating he'd endured. But Alex knew that the worst punishment was yet to come — the knowledge that Bella thought him a murderer and not only a killer, but the one who savagely destroyed her brother. He hadn't cried since the death of his mother, but now it was all he could do to keep from collapsing in despair.
The worst of it was that Alex knew they would never achieve the dreams and plans they'd made together. He hugged himself tightly, closing his eyes, hungry for Bella's warmth — warmth he knew he'd never feel again.
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
THE FIRST MEETING BEHIND THE BACKS OF ANTONIO AND JAVIER had been called. Emilio knew which buttons to push, and how to get away with pushing them. Seated in the large conference room inside the warehouse where the drugs were stored was a group of about twenty men, most of them uneducated, who'd come to America to make their dreams come true. They'd discovered the hard way that it wasn't as easy as they had once thought.
These men were the drug pushers, the foot soldiers of the organization, the ones on the street. They risked their lives, and the threat of being sent back to Mexico if they were caught hung over their heads. Emilio and Hector had plans for all of them in their new regime.
The men all sat around a long, wooden table, fidgeting and looking at each other nervously. No one had ever called them for a meeting before. Hector usually met with them on the street and brought them the drugs they needed to sell.
"Hello, gentlemen. Thank you for coming," Emilio began. "I'm sure you're all wondering why you are here."
The young men stared at him, full of fear and curiosity.
"You're here because you have a new job to do. You now work for me and Hector. Your orders will not come from my brother, Señor Espinoza, or from Javier Rodriguez. They will come directly from me from now on. But all this is to be kept quiet. When we tell you to do something, you will do it. Things are going to change around here. You will report directly to Hector every day. You will pick up your product on a daily basis. In the evening, you'll bring us what you do not sell, including the day's take. Then the shift will change. Whoever works evenings will take their cut, and come back in the morning. You will account for everything spent, and every ounce sold. There will be no stealing within this organization. Do you understand? Up 'til now, things have been way too flexible. We've gotten wind that some of you have been stealing drugs and money from us."
"We don't like that," Hector chimed in.
The men looked at each other, not quite understanding the implications of what was being said in this cold, dim room. One of the young men, Juan, who was considered more courageous than the others, interrupted the proceedings. "This don't sound right to me. I think I don't want to be a part of this."
"Really now? Well, Juan, I don't think you have to worry about that,” Hector sneered. “Remember when I said we heard some of you men have been stealing from us? We heard it was you, man."
Juan looked surprised. "Me? No way. I never stole from you. I always gave you your money and did everything right."
"We'd like to believe you, but we don't," Hector answered him curtly. Then, as if time had slowed to a standstill, Hector pulled out a . 22 from his long, dark coat and shot the man in the head. Blood spurted everywhere. Juan's head rolled forward as he slumped in his chair, life completely
drained from him. The other men gasped, and then quickly fell silent, looking away from the ghastly scene.
"Does anyone else have a problem with us?" Emilio quietly asked them, but the men were too dumbfounded to mutter a response.
"Good,” Emilio said, a slow smile creeping across his face. “Clean this mess up, and get rid of him. Business will begin tomorrow. You can have today off. If anyone speaks of what went on here today, they'll wind up the way Juan did."
The two men swept out of the building, high as kites on the coke they'd been doing all morning, ready to cause more trouble to bring down their empire by transferring its source of power.
"Now, my friend, we fly to Bogotá, and then on to Guatemala." Emilio winked at Hector. He knew from experience that the other man was high at that moment from not only the drugs but also from the killing. Emilio could tell by the look in his henchman's eyes that he'd loved it — loved the feeling, loved the power, and couldn't wait until he could do it again. Emilio would be certain to see that Hector got that chance.
*****
SORROW SO PAIN FILLED IT HELD BELLA'S HEART IN A VISE and swept through her entire body, while disillusionment and tears clouded her vision. Pedro sat across from her inside the hotel suite that had only two days before been adjoined by Alex's suite. Now Pedro was staying there. Directly after seeing her brother slain, and after Alex was arrested, she was taken by the bodyguard and another man. They stayed with her until Pedro arrived a couple of hours later. He'd told her that her father was being notified and would be leaving Europe with Antonio soon. They expected them that afternoon.
Her world had changed in those two days and she could hardly speak to Pedro at that moment. She wanted nothing more than to curl up and die. How could the man that she loved, or thought she loved, kill her brother? Her beloved and dear brother. She didn't understand. A thought crossed her mind time and again: she wondered just how corrupt her family was. She was beginning to believe the stories she heard about them, and now she wondered if her own father hadn't asked Alex to kill Miguel. She didn't want to think such a horrible thought, but she couldn't help herself. She could not believe that Alex had done this. Why? He was not a cold, evil man. At least she'd thought that. He claimed he cared for her. Yet, she saw him there, with the knife in his hand with her brother's blood on it, and until Alex had gone in there alone, her brother had been guarded. None of this made sense.
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