‘But it did not last. Nothing in life lasts. Eventually, the rich women paid the police less than we were asking – to put a stop to our dumping business. But by that time I had made a lot of money. This was the start of my fortune and my cartel.’
‘This was how Árbol was born?’
Marron nodded. ‘That was the start of Árbol.’
‘What happened if the rich people refused to pay?’ asked Amanda, not knowing if she really wanted to hear the answer.
Marron shrugged. ‘If they would refuse to pay, or agree to a deal but then not pay up once we had kept our part of the bargain and taken the wreck away, all the windows of their mansion might have rocks thrown through them, or the house would catch fire in the night. Once people heard of what we were capable of, it was only a fool who messed with us.’
‘And from this beginning you moved into other criminal rackets?’
‘It was from this experience with the car wrecks that I realised the potential of what I had stumbled upon. They say that some of the greatest scientific discoveries have been made by accident. By pure chance, I had discovered a way to make a lot of money from rich people. I had been in the right place at the right time. Opportunity came knocking, and I grabbed it. After that, we expanded our operations. We offered rich people our protection.’
‘Protection from what?’
‘From us!’ Marron laughed. ‘And from other gangs like us.’
‘You were extorting money from them?’ By now Amanda had no doubts that this guy was who he said he was, that he was genuinely Carlos Marron, the Green Parrot.
‘Extorting?’ Marron shook his head. ‘We called it “neighbourhood support”. If they refused our support, their homes or their businesses would unfortunately burn to the ground.’ He faked a look of compassion. ‘Very sad!’ Then he produced a wide grin. ‘We also took rich people on little holidays until we received money for their return.’
‘You mean you kidnapped them for ransom?’ said Amanda.
‘We like to call it “liberation expenses”. And when I had made a lot more money, I decided to build my mansion, right here. I was born in a shack at the end of this very street, you know. This would be the best house in the worst neighbourhood of Monterrey. But it is my neighbourhood. This is where I was born and raised. Everyone knows me. I am one of them. No one in this district rats on El Loro Verde. They know I will look after them if they look after me. And they know that if they betray me, I will make them and their families suffer.’
He said this with such nonchalance that it sent a chill down Amanda’s spine. ‘And your mother?’ she asked, changing the subject. ‘She moved in here with you, as you had always planned?’
Marron suddenly looked sad. ‘Unfortunately, my dear mother passed away before this house could be completed. That is my dear departed mother.’
He pointed to a large painting on the wall. It was a portrait of a small woman with grey hair and a warm smile. She was so short that her feet did not touch the ground as she sat in a golden, throne-like chair. To complete the picture, the artist had given Mrs Marron a saint-like halo. A vase of fresh flowers stood on a side table below the portrait.
‘We give her fresh flowers every day,’ Marron added.
‘It’s as if your mother is always here with you,’ Amanda said, faking sympathy. It appeared this crime lord’s soft spot was the memory of his mother.
‘Exactly. So, now you know how I came to create Árbol. The profit made from Árbol’s business enterprises is distributed throughout the local community. I employ thousands of fellow Mexicans and keep them from starving. I am truly a friend of the people.’
‘And you run your empire from this room?’
Marron paused, glancing at his watch. ‘The internet has changed much, and my business has changed with it. Árbol now extends across Mexico, across the United States and Canada, across South America, across Europe. And you know the business of which I am most proud?’ He looked around to Vargas. ‘Take her to see the C-Room.’
Vargas walked over and grabbed Amanda by the arm.
‘But I have more questions for you,’ she protested. ‘Maybe later,’ Marron said. ‘I have a teleconference coming up with associates.’ He waved her away.
Vargas and Tommy took her to the floor below. The lift doors opened to reveal a room which almost occupied the entire second floor. It was packed full of computer equipment, with wires trailing everywhere. The curtains on the windows were drawn, and two pale young men barely out of their teens were sitting on large plastic balls in front of banks of at least twenty screens.
Amanda noted two Heckler & Koch MP5 sub—machine guns lying on a bench. During her journalistic career, Amanda had written extensively about Special Ops soldiers such as Charlie Grover and Ben Fulton, and she knew that the MP5 was the favoured weapon of Special Forces units around the world for ‘close quarters’ operations. During her research on the Mexican crime cartels, Amanda had read that several of them, including Árbol, had either stolen or illegally purchased MP5s and similar military hardware from the Mexican Army.
‘This is C-Room,’ said Vargas. Keeping hold of her arm, he led Amanda to the screens.
Some screens displayed websites, some were full of ever-changing computer data, while others projected the footage from the many CCTV cameras dotted around the Green Parrot’s compound. Seeing this, Amanda tried to memorise which areas of the mansion were being monitored by taking in the images on the screens. Then she recognised a homepage on one of the monitors. ‘Friends of the People,’ she said.
‘That is us,’ Vargas said proudly. ‘This is an Árbol propaganda website, controlled from this room by these two guys, Cisco and Pancho. It is our secret.’
‘Why reveal that to me? Tomorrow I could tell the world that you’re behind Friends of the People.’
Vargas smiled. ‘Tomorrow we could have another website or another dozen websites. People, young people especially, tire of old websites and are always looking for something new.’
‘Is that what the Green Parrot is so proud of?’
‘No, not that. Come see.’ Vargas led her to a stack of computer servers that took up just a square metre of space. ‘This is C-Share. You can download any e-book, any piece of music, any movie in the world, from this site – for free.’
‘I’ve heard of C-Share,’ said Amanda. ‘It’s an illegal website sharing pirated material, isn’t it?’
‘Sí. One of our legitimate businesses bought it off some Swedish youngsters who ended up in jail for infringing copyright. Half the free download transactions that occur in the world every day take place on these servers.’ He patted the stack. ‘Amazing, huh?’
‘Those servers handle all that online traffic?’ Amanda was shocked at how little space they took up. ‘But, if the downloads are free, how do you make money from it?’
Vargas shrugged. ‘We don’t. There is some paid advertising on the site, but C-Share still loses money. El Loro Verde doesn’t care. He is happy that, through him, the poor people of the world have free access to all that stuff the big corporations pump out for rich people to buy. He is a modern-day Robin Hood, robbing the rich to share with the poor.’
‘But if everyone uses pirated material rather than paying for it, people will stop creating new material. Without payment for copyright, there will be no new books or music or movies.’
Vargas shook his head. ‘Copyright is just legal mumbo jumbo. Hollywood makes billions. They can afford a few free downloads. They will always churn this stuff out.’
‘Not if no one pays to see it or hear it. And most of the people of the world can afford to pay a little,’ argued Amanda. ‘Free file sharing is theft. What if you spent months writing a book or recording a song, and someone else put it on the net so there were a million downloads but not a soul paid you for it? Would that be fair? Would that enable you to make a living? Of course not. There has to be reward for effort.’
Vargas shrugged. ‘El Loro Verde is
the boss. He can do whatever he likes.’
Amanda shook her head. She could see that she was not going to get anywhere with this man.
‘Hey, Cisco,’ said Vargas, ‘put on your telephone voice for the señorita.’
One of the geeks, a pimply, bespectacled youth, grinned. He turned to Amanda. ‘Miss Ritchie, this is hotel reception. Please do not be alarmed, but there is a fire emergency in the hotel, and the fire alarm is not working.’
Amanda’s mouth dropped open in surprise. ‘You’re the one who called me.’
‘So,’ said Vargas, ‘now we will return you to the hotel and you will write an article about all the good work that El Loro Verde is doing for the poor people of the world, and you will make sure that it is published widely.’ He pulled the blindfold from his pocket.
Amanda was reluctant to leave before she got more information about where Caesar was being held. ‘I still have questions for him,’ she said, trying to stall her departure.
Vargas shook his head. ‘You have asked enough questions. Now, keep your part of the bargain – write your article, make El Loro Verde look good.’
Tommy grasped Amanda’s arms from behind, startling her. Vargas quickly fastened the blindfold over her eyes.
‘Take her back to the Hilton,’ he commanded Tommy.
Fifteen minutes later Amanda was shoved from the back of the van, her handbag thrown out after her. As the van roared away, Amanda staggered then caught her balance. Ripping the blindfold from her head, she saw that she had been deposited across the street from her hotel, on the Boulevard Antonio L Rodriguez. Turning, she tried to catch a glimpse of the fast disappearing van. It was a black VW, but its registration plate was smeared with mud and was unreadable. Within moments it had turned a corner and disappeared into the night.
With a sigh, Amanda picked up her bag and crossed the road to the hotel. The lone staff member at the front desk watched her with a look of surprise on his face; he rarely saw guests come in during the early hours of the morning without shoes on. When she reached her room, Amanda took out her phone and placed a call while sinking into the bed.
‘Hey, what’s up?’ came a familiar voice.
‘Sorry to wake you, Ben, but I’ve been abducted by the Árbol cartel,’ she said, her voice quavering a little.
‘What?’ Ben almost yelled in alarm. ‘Amanda, are you okay? Where are you?’
‘I’m fine. They’ve just dumped me back at my hotel. But I saw Caesar, Ben!’
‘You did?’ He bombarded her with questions. ‘Where? Was the Green Parrot there? Was Caesar all right when you saw him? They haven’t hurt him?’
‘Well, I didn’t exactly see him. I was blindfolded at the time. But I know it was him. They had a woman who seemed to be in charge of him, and she called him César.’
‘That sounds like the Mexican police dog handler who was kidnapped.’
‘She got him to search me for explosives. And he recognised me, Ben. He knew it was me. The Green Parrot has definitely got him and is using him as a canine bodyguard.’
‘Did you see the Green Parrot himself?’
‘Yes, I had a long conversation with him. And I saw where he’s hiding out. From the inside, anyway. It was about a ten-minute drive from the hotel.’
‘I’m on my way to you now. Don’t leave your room, and don’t let anyone in but me.’
‘Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.’ Amanda looked down to see that her hands were shaking. Shock was setting in. ‘Please hurry, Ben. In case they come back for me.’
Ben was at Amanda’s hotel within ten minutes, driven there through the city’s deserted streets and past military checkpoints by a yawning Monterrey taxi driver.
When he knocked on the door to her room, she called nervously from the other side, ‘Who is it?’
‘It’s okay, Amanda, it’s me – Ben,’ he replied.
‘Are you alone?’
‘Roger that.’
Even so, she checked through the spy-hole in the door. Only once she’d satisfied herself that he was alone did she open the door. As soon as she saw him standing there she burst into tears and threw her arms around him.
Still locked in her embrace, Ben worked his way into the room, kicking the door closed behind him with one foot. In the middle of the room, he pushed her back so that he could see her face.
‘Don’t cry,’ he said, wiping her damp cheeks with the back of his hand. ‘It’s okay now.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Amanda snuffled. ‘I’ve been to more war zones than I can remember, and have been in some pretty tight situations, and I thought I was pretty tough. But being hijacked by the Green Parrot’s goons really put the wind up me.’ Her hands began to shake again. Pulling Ben close again, she lay her head on his broad shoulder. ‘There was no guarantee they were going to set me free.’
‘I know.’ Ben patted her on the back reassuringly.
Finally, Amanda took a deep breath, then stood back and smiled up at him. ‘I’m fine now. I don’t know what came over me.’
‘The shock of what you went through is starting to set in,’ he said. ‘You should take it easy. Rest. Lie down.’
‘At least we’ve tracked down Caesar. But the place is a fortress, and the Green Parrot has plenty of armed men guarding him there.’
‘Well done, you.’ Ben steered her to a chair. ‘On my way over here I called Captain Lee. She’s activating the unit. GRRR will be here in Monterrey and good to go in after Caesar within sixteen hours. And if we can capture the Green Parrot in the process and deliver him up to the Mexican Government, that will be a bonus.’
‘That’s fantastic!’ said Amanda.
‘In the meantime, we have to figure out his precise location. You said that the Green Parrot’s hide-out was a ten-minute drive from here?’
Amanda nodded. ‘It’s a massive concrete place, like an office building, complete with a lift. And one floor is devoted to a massive computer set-up. They call it the C-Room. They’re operating a pirated file-sharing business from there. The computer power in that room is phenomenal.’
‘Interesting,’ said Ben, deep in thought. ‘You know, computer servers give off high-frequency electronic waves that can be picked up by airborne equipment operated by U-2 spy aircraft for America’s National Security Agency. They deny this type of hardware exists, of course, but they use high-flying spy planes to track down military and terrorist computer servers. The more servers, the more likely a spy satellite or U-2 will pick them up. If they’re hidden in an underground bunker they’ll be harder to locate. Was this C-Room underground?’
‘No, on the second floor, I think.’
‘Did the room have windows?’ asked Ben.
Amanda pictured the C-Room in her mind’s eye. ‘It had windows, but the blinds were drawn. I don’t think it ever sees the light of day.’
‘Windows mean glass. The high-frequency electronic waves from the computer servers are transmitted through glass much more easily than through concrete or brick. The NSA electronic sensor should be able to pinpoint the Green Parrot’s compound. The electronic waves would light up the building on the NSA screens just like an infrared picture. With so many servers there, the entire building would glow on the NSA monitors.’
Amanda was shocked. ‘Wow. I never knew anything like that existed. And I’m a pretty good investigative journalist.’
‘Classified information,’ said Ben, taking out his phone and tapping in a number. ‘I never told you about it.’
‘Who are you calling?’ asked Amanda.
‘Captain Lee – to get the UN to ask for the NSA’s help on this one. We need to pinpoint the location of the Green Parrot’s building so that GRRR can go straight in as soon as the team is assembled here in Monterrey.’
There was a chill in the night air as the members of GRRR pulled on black night-time combat gear provided by the US Navy SEALs – boots, trousers, shirts, bullet-proof vests, balaclavas and Kevlar helmets.
Two members o
f Australia’s SAS Regiment, Sergeant Charlie Grover and Trooper Bendigo Baz, had been in Hawaii advising a new SEAL team on covert operations when they had received the GRRR operational activation call from Captain Lee. To get to Monterrey, they had hopped on the first USAF transport plane heading out of Honolulu for California, before catching another USAF lift across the border to Mexico. With them, they had brought aluminium travel crates containing Special Forces weapons and equipment on loan to the UN from the SEALs. Charlie was to lead the op on the ground, an op which Captain Lee had given the codename of Operation Green Parrot.
The three American members of the regular GRRR team had been the first to reach Monterrey – Sergeants Duke Hazard and Tim McHenry, and signaller Brian Cisco. Sergeant Angus Bruce and Corporal Chris Banner had flown in next, all the way from England. Sergeant Jean-Claude Lyon came straight from the French Foreign Legion base on the Mediterranean island of Corsica. On the same French Air Force Hercules C-130 that brought him to Mexico, Lyon had been accompanied by Casper Mortenson and Willy Wolf. To complete the team, a Japanese Self Defence Force transport aircraft had brought Toushi Harada from Tokyo.
Ben Fulton, the twelfth member of the team, stood looking over Toushi’s shoulder as the Japanese corporal rapidly tapped away at a computer. They were all gathered in a Mexican Air Force cargo hangar at Monterrey International Airport.
‘There it is, Ben,’ said Toushi, sitting back and pointing to the screen as a panoramic image appeared. ‘You see?’
Ben leaned closer to the screen. ‘How about that,’ he said, half to himself. ‘I’d heard all about the hardware that could sniff out computer servers, Toushi, but I’d never seen their work before.’
The image was taken from an American U-2 spy plane flying at 70,000 feet above Monterrey, well beyond the sight and hearing of anyone on the ground. It showed a group of buildings in northern Monterrey. The natural and man-made features were all depicted in blue, but one building glowed orange. With a one-time password passed on to him by Captain Lee, Toushi had gained access to the images coming from the U-2. At Liberty Lee’s request, the NSA had diverted a U-2 training flight over northern Mexico and had turned on its sensors.
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