by M C Rowley
“Our son.”
Eleanor looked at me, and worded why? from her red stained and tear streaked face.
“Our son is alive,” I said, finally.
Her face lightened, and then transfigured with terrible shock.
The son she never knew.
“I´m going to get you out of here, El, but you have to be careful.”
She started to cry. I went to comfort her, but she pushed me away.
“Listen to me. I´ll tell you everything. I was going to, but this happened and I, I´m sorry they got you. I never meant for this. We don´t have enough time.”
Her eyes were bloodshot and around her eyes had gone gray from lack of sleep. I had kept the truth about Mr Reynolds from her to protect her, I had thought, and all the time the truth had been her cure. I had deprived her of it, and it had nearly killed her to find out her son lived, and hadn´t died.
“Our son was taken by a cartel, and he was brought up by them. He turned into one of them. And pledged to murder us. It was all Esteban.”
“Who´s Esteban?” she asked.
“Matias Esteban. The Matias Esteban,” I said.
Her face registered surprise, for about 2 seconds. I supposed it made so much sense, like it had to me, the fact a rich guy had illegal endeavors hardly shocked.
“What is going on, Scott?”
“I don’t know everything yet.”
Eleanor´s head slumped downwards. I continued,
“There´s too much to tell you now in such short time. But the most important thing is that our son is still alive. And he´s close by.”
Eleanor lifted her head. “What?”
I shushed her.
“Help is coming,” I said. “Keep your head down, and we´ll get out of this.”
Eleanor was crying, fresh tears ran down her cheeks like a leak had broken. .
“I´m sorry.”
Eleanor looked up at me, “Why didn´t you tell me?”
I shook my head. “The lie got too big. The work became dangerous. They threatened me. They threatened you. But that´s no excuse.”
“You´re damned straight,” she said, and she stood tall and faced me.
“You lied too,” I said.
I had never seen anger like it. Her face trembled, her facial muscles bunched up like strings in knots, and she went for me. I jumped back to avoid her hand but lowered my shoulder and clasped her around her waist and held her.
“Eleanor, I´m sorry, I should have told you. But they threatened your life, through our son.”
She slumped against me.
“All these years, Scott. He never knew.”
Behind us, the door opened and Jason came in and put his hand on my shoulder. I brushed it off and turned to him, “Don´t touch me, asshole.”
“Time´s up.”
And he pulled me out. As we walked back into the room, I turned back and saw Eleanor knelt on the floor framed by the old wooden door. My entire being filled with sorrow.
Then the door shut and Kyle stood in front of it.
I turned back to the room. On the desk, the same laptops sat whirring away, and a video camcorder on a tripod had been set up. Pep was tied up facing it, and there was an empty chair for me.
I ran a count in my head. I figured only five minutes remained before Esteban’s men charged Pozos.
I sat down and looked at the camera. Jason was behind it, and with him sat Bayer, Hernandez and Aronson watching. Jason was on the phone and was speaking in English with what I guessed must have been the New York Times contact. Such was the nature of news these days. No printing press dictating the release of information, but live streams, tweets and videos shot on cell phones.
Jason looked at me, still holding the phone, “Yeah, he´s ready.”
And he signed off and looked at me.
“You know what to do, Scott. One wrong move and Kyle has her orders to shoot Eleanor. Now, you say we caught you. Mexican investigators are what we are. You don´t mention any other names, understood?”
I nodded.
The little green webcam light came on and I looked into it.
“Who are you?” asked Jason.
“My name is Scott Timothy Dyce. I am a British national and have been working as a corporate spy in Mexico and parts of Latin America.”
“Did you kidnap Governor Jose Luis Augusto?”
“Yes. Under the strict orders of Matias Esteban, my employer.”
I let it hang there for a bit. It had weight when I said it aloud.
Jason nodded.
“Who is holding you now?”
“A team of Mexican investigators. We have been treated well. I am handing Governor Jose over to the officials shortly.”
“Then what is the purpose of this confession?”
“To expose Matias Esteban for what he is. I was ordered to pick up a package some days ago, and the package turned out to be the Governor. I plan on releasing the governor today for the Mexican authorities to take him into safety, and turn myself in. I ask to be extradited and to be treated fairly taking into consideration the fact that I was forced to do this, and that I am releasing the Governor as stated.”
Bayer and Hernandez then came from the back room, dragging Pep by his arms, and brought him in front of the camera. Pep looked dazed, but awake and alert enough to make eye contact with the lens.
Jason nodded, and the video clicked off. He dialed a number and held the phone to his ear. I could hear the excitement in the voice on the other line.
“That good for you then?” Jason said into the phone, and smiled. He hung up and looked at us. I looked at Pep, whose face had slumped into a deep catharsis.
“Well done, Scott, not so—
But Jason´s voice was cut off by a large explosion. We all dived down to the floor except Pep, who screamed through his gag and wriggled in his chair.
I did the count in my head.
Esteban´s team were right on time.
Chapter Thirty-Five
I scrambled toward the door where Kyle guarded Eleanor.
BOOM.
Another explosion, and one of the corners of the cabin evaporated into smoke and dust, leaving a massive gaping hole.
I struggled to fathom them using RPGs, a bit extreme to say the least. But then Esteban had said he didn´t take risks.
Everyone was on the floor except Pep.
Eleanor was behind me in the room. I turned back toward it and started crawling again.
“Stop there, Scott,” said Jason´s voice over the chaos.
I turned and he had his pistol aimed at me from a lying position.
“Untie the Governor instead,” he said.
“I did what you asked,” I said over the din, “let me get her out of here.”
But Jason had turned back and was busy firing shots off out of the hole in the cabin wall by now but still shouted back to me, “I ain´t stupid Scott. You led Esteban here.”
The noise trebled, and I ducked down as Bayer, Hernandez, Aronson and Kyle joined in by running to the edge of the hole in the cabin wall and draw fire toward Esteban´s men outside.
Backed up, Jason rolled over to reload, and looked at me while he did.
“That video went live already man. It´s too late for you. But I need you to untie the governor. Now.”
I scrambled back toward the terrified Pep and got to his hands. They were tied with plastic ties and were cutting his skin. I moved to the next table to look for something sharp.
Bullets started hitting the inside of the cabin. A tornado of them. Everything dulled out to the cascade of metal hitting metal and wood. I dived down again. We all dived down. Pep was screaming muffled cries at me. I worked along to the next table and looked up at it.
I looked back at the scene. Eleanor´s door was clean, no bullet holes. The team were in full battle mode now. But Jason had his satellite phone out.
Bayer was now working on the opposite side, near Eleanor´s door, seeing to make an exit. He wa
s cutting through the thin plaster and wooden frame.
Jason was talking to someone on the phone. I couldn´t hear what he was saying.
More bullets rained into us like hailstones. They produced shards of wood, and metal that bounced up from the floor. I abandoned Pep and went for Eleanor.
But I was blocked. The heavy carcass of Aronson fell into my way. The top half of his head was gone, leaving only half a mouth curled up in a grimace. Blood oozed out of his neck. I retched, got to my knees and crawled around him toward Eleanor´s door.
The cabin now was in bits. Parts of wood panelling, plasterboard and shrapnel sprinkled over my head, and the floor around me. Total destruction. I crawled behind some of the tables on my way to Eleanor. I begged that she was down, on the floor. The wall separating us was completely peppered.
Then I heard a thud, and looked behind me. Hernandez had been shot and flew back to the floor like luggage being thrown on to the conveyor belt at an airport, his hand still holding his pistol flying wildly to the side as he dropped.
Jason was now at the edge of the hole in the wall, shouting at Kyle across the opening. I couldn´t hear what he said but I saw him raise his gun at Pep, pull the trigger and Pep´s head burst open at the back, spraying the wall behind him with crimson.
Then, from behind us, Bayer shouted that he´d got through, and next to him was a new hole, lower down, that he´d cut with a metal saw. Jason and Kyle went for it, following Bayer through.
I ran to Eleanor´s room and slammed into the door with everything I had, shoulder first. The lock splintered into dust and I entered. The room was covered in bullet holes, but there, under the bed was Eleanor´s foot. And it was moving.
I didn´t ask, I just grabbed her shoe at the ankle and pulled her out like she was a child hiding from an angry parent. As she appeared from under the bed, I held her upper back and tried to hug her, but she pushed me away, her face filled with a terror like I´d never seen before, not even since we were kids. She held my arm, not in any way to get comfort, but pure, cold necessity. Her body was stiff with fear and my arm seemed to anchor her.
The battle had changed to outside. We heard the gunshots blasting but filtered by two walls. So we headed out into the main cabin. The floor was a sea of broken shards of wood, parts of the metal cabin walls, and things from the tables, cables, laptops smashed into bits, and chairs thrown over. The large hole lay in the center and the smaller one Bayer had opened to its left.
Suddenly something smacked my lower back and I went down. Eleanor was on top of me. She´d pushed me. And just in time as a cacophony of machine gun rounds started to tear what was left of the cabin to shreds. We stayed down with our arms over our heads.
After what seemed like a quantum age, where time and bullets coiled around each other in some micro-dance, the shots petered out and stopped and we heard them outside. We crawled to the opening and peered out.
To the right, Jason and Kyle were propped behind one of Pozo´s low derelict walls, firing. Bayer´s body lay beside them in a pool of blood.
To the left, I could see two of Esteban´s men, and three corpses laid out.
Two against two.
“Let´s go,” I said, and I held Eleanor back and we side stepped to the edge of the cabin and sprinted to one of the trucks.
I held Eleanor´s shoulder down, so she crouched, and I grabbed the passenger door. I checked inside but no keys.
We turned back to the gunfight. Things were just reaching its peak of intensity with all four guns firing back and forth when a deep and powerful voice shouted over it all,
“¡Basta!”
Everyone stopped.
The noise vanished as quickly as it had started.
There, walking slowly around the cabin was Esteban, struggling, being held by our son, Jairo.
“Basta,” he said again.
He had a pistol pointing at the old man´s head.
I breathed out, suddenly aware that I´d been holding it for minutes and I didn´t notice Eleanor move at first, out from behind the car, until it was too late. She walked across the battlefield, straight for Esteban, and her son.
No-one moved. No-one spoke. Everyone´s eyes were on Eleanor as she strode. I walked out too.
She reached Jairo and grabbed the gun from him and held it tight against Esteban´s temple and looked back at me.
“Is this the man who took our son?”
Everyone looked back at me.
I kept my eyes on Eleanor. She was shaking, red in the face, teeth gritted.
“Is he responsible?” she shouted.
I knew she´d do it. I had no doubt at all.
So I nodded.
“Yes.”
Esteban went to turn to her, to reason with her but she pulled the trigger and the back of his cranium exploded and the old man slumped to his knees and hit the dirt.
I heard Jason shout. It sounded like a cheer.
He was aiming his gun. At Jairo and Eleanor.
“No!”
Jairo had seen it. He jumped at Eleanor and tackled her to the floor on top of Esteban´s corpse. Jason fired, and Jairo´s arm got hit.
Esteban´s men were down to one but he fired with gusto at Kyle and Jason.
Kyle kept firing at the last man standing. He was screwed. If he ran for it, they´d take him down, no doubt.
If he stayed, his ammo would run out before theirs.
But he did something very clever.
At first, I thought he´d been shot. He flew backwards letting his arms shoot upwards, gun in hand and he hit the ground like a stone.
And Kyle ceased fire.
Jason whooped again and with urgency, started looking to aim again, at me this time. He got up from behind the small wall, and walked out of it.
I didn´t see the other guy´s play. Nor did Jason. Nor did Kyle. I only saw Jason´s chest explode.
Jason´s body swayed in static, and then slumped to the floor, face first.
Esteban´s guy had feigned it. But now Kyle´s shots finished the job and he was dead before Jason´s body had settled in the dust.
The echo of the shots reverberated into nothingness, and a deathly silence fell over the hills, swooping in with the soft wind through and between the ghost town´s ruins.
Jairo had gotten up, and was holding Eleanor tightly. He was whispering something in her ear and she was emotionally destroyed, her face quaking with tears.
Then, he turned, looked at me with a glance and ran. Kyle didn´t shoot. She was sat on the floor, recuperating.
Jairo disappeared over the hill without looking back again. And just as fast as he´d come back into our lives, he´d gone again.
I ran to Eleanor and held her.
“You saved my life.”
She hugged me. And I held her. I held her like I had not done for many years. I held her like young lovers hold each other, like the world was done, and was burning up.
I heard Kyle coming and I put up my hands.
“Please,” I said. “ Just take her.”
Kyle said nothing but kept walking toward us.
“Please,” I said again, and Eleanor and I came out of our embrace.
“Leave me,” I said.
But Kyle seemed more interested in Eleanor. She was holding Jason´s satellite phone. She punched in a number while Eleanor and I stared at her, at a loss for words.
Kyle held the sat phone to her ear.
“It´s screwed,” she said, into the phone. “But Dyce and his wife are still alive. The son got away. Everyone else is dead.”
A long pause. We could hear the tin voice of Reynolds from the other end, giving instructions.
“Just Dyce and his wife,” said Kyle.
We waited. For our execution. Or for our savior.
“Okay,” said Kyle and the phone dropped to her side. Then she addressed us, “I´ll take her. But not you.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“Clean the prints on the pistol she used and cover it with
yours,” said Kyle.
From a distance, we heard the sirens coming.
“Quickly,” said Kyle, handing the phone to me, “Mr Reynolds wants to speak with you.”
I didn´t know what to say. I just stared at Kyle.
“Take the damn phone,” she said. “We don´t have long.”
I took it and held it to my ear. The strange tinny voice came on.
“Mr Dyce. You´ve done me a favor,” said Mr Reynolds. “And I´ll pay it back to you. Hold tight, and I´ll get you out of jail. Give it four weeks.”
I didn´t say anything.
“Your wife is safe with Kyle,” said the voice of Reynolds. “But you´ll have to earn the right to see her again. You work for me now.”
I looked at Eleanor. I didn´t deserve her. And she was saved. And I had to trust Kyle.
“Okay,” I said. “ Thank you.”
And the line went dead.
Kyle grabbed the phone, and Eleanor by the arm and they got into the truck, started the engine and drove off.
I watched them leave Pozos, and I went for the pistol Eleanor had used to kill Esteban but realized Jairo must have taken it. I sat back from my kneeling position and waited.
I was exhausted. There was no use in running. I listened to the cops getting closer.
Jairo was free. Eleanor not so much.
I couldn´t move.
Epilogue
After 21 long days in jail, Reynold´s call came as he had promised.
The prison yard was the worst place. I dreaded it every day. Gang bangers, cartel leaders, druggies. It was hopeless. I knew I wouldn´t last much longer. It had already been three weeks. It was mentally torturing me. I guessed it was Reynolds keeping my hind safe. Had to be. But I was beginning to give up.
Until the call came.
“Llamada para Dyce,” shouted the guard´s voice.
I´ll never forget it. The shout coming through the sticky heat, and hope with it. I walked around the weights, the tattooed gang, the one with the letter X painted on their arms. Passed the Honduras crew. All staring me down. All obeying orders from someone not to touch me.
I got into the shade of the prison building. It was quiet at break time.
The federal guard grabbed my arm and led me down the corridor, away from the light, to the old black phone hanging on the wall. The receiver was hanging on its chord, swaying in the breeze.