by Rowley, M C
I had done nothing to protect Eleanor.
The cloudy blanket of a sky had settled low, and the wind picked up. I needed Jason, and quick. But he was nowhere. I began scanning the surrounding area, and felt my strength come back a little. And then I heard from behind me a groan.
Governor Pep was awake.
Chapter Seventeen
The Governor was squirming around, confused. “Que pasa, chingada. ¿Qué pasa?” he said, over and over.
Then he turned upward and faced me, disoriented from the drugging, his eyes widened.
“¿Tu?”
Then his face changed. I could see him reeling back through his inbuilt rolodex, looking for my name. I helped him.
“Mark Kersteen,” I said.
He looked up at me, astonished. “Why? Why am I tied like this?”
“You don´t remember?”
He squinted at me. The drugs were wearing off. “I was…in the Sierra. The festival. Two men. In black. But you weren´t there.”
I shook my head. “No,” I said. “I´m just the sitter”.
He scrunched his face up in confusion.
“Baby-sitter,” I said.
He kept quiet for a few seconds. “Untie me, please.”
“Can´t do that,” I said.
“Why?”
“Sorry.” I stooped and helped him to sit up straight. He looked like a shy little boy with his hands and legs tied together, in his pyjamas.
“Why the hell do you have me like this?”
I sat down on the visitor´s chair in front of my desk. “I can´t tell you, Mr. Governor.”
“Call me Pep.”
Tied up, under intense duress and confused, and still playing the political game.
“Ok,” I said. “I don´t know. But you´re here and there’s nothing I can do about getting you out. Food is coming, apparently. But until then, it´s just you and me.”
He slumped his head down so it peered between his bound legs, through the knees. He stayed that way for a minute until he popped up hard, his eyes wide with fear, “Jaqueline? Jessica?” he said. “Where are they?”
I stared straight. I guessed he meant his wife, or kids, or both. “It´s just you, Pep,” I said.
He breathed out. I couldn´t believe that was enough for him. I felt jealous of him for it.
“It wasn´t you who grabbed me,” he said again. “Are you captured too?”
I thought a little while before answering. Decided it was best not to give anything away.
“I don´t know.”
He sighed and returned his head to face his feet. He looked sad and pathetic. The light from outside, in spite of the clouds, was now streaming through my cabin office´s windows. I got up and closed the blinds. I opened the door and told Pep I would be back soon.
“Don´t take too long,” he said. “I need the bathroom.”
I walked out and stepped down to the gravel and dust. The main building hangar was silent. Jason was nowhere to be seen. All around us was silence. The hum of production from the other production plants was gone. I walked across the lot to the other office cabins and tried the doors. Each one was locked. I walked on to the hangar and inside, the space was massive. In the middle, a small collection of machinery looked like a miniature model in this scale. Around the edge of the space were more caravan offices. I walked to each one and looked in. They were all open, and all empty.
I walked from one end to the other and found a door. This was locked and I couldn´t see anything through the window. I headed out and back across the lot to let Pep relieve himself. Before I went in, I scanned the area for Jason. Nothing. No sign of him.
When I got back in Pep had moved to be leaning back. He looked relaxed. He looked like he was watching one of his “friends” giving a speech. He was lost in thought and startled when I walked in. He slumped again to his former position.
“Bathroom break,” I said. And I helped him up to his tied feet. Together we shuffled to the small ensuite WC and before I could even offer to take down his pants, he waved me away.
I shut the door and waited for him outside.
The Governor still had his pride intact. I suddenly felt exhausted. I´d been up all night again for the second time in a week and I was not at the age where that didn´t come back to bite you. I sat at my desk and rested my head on the back of the seat. I closed my eyes, and started to drift when Pep´s WC door slammed open and I collected myself. I´d almost forgotten my captive. I got up and helped him back to the sofa.
“You look like shit,” he said.
I said nothing.
“You were waiting for me in the mountains, weren´t you?”
I nodded.
“I need to rest,” and I walked to the door and moved the small slide lock. I went back to my seat and leaned back and rested my head.
I awoke to a knocking and jumped up. Pep was sitting on the sofa looking at me. I had no idea how long I´d been out.
“I thought you weren´t gonna wake up,” said Pep. “ You didn´t hear me?”
I shook my head and stood. I walked to the door, expecting Salvatierra, and instead found the friendly face of a lady about 60 years of age. She was small, and rotund, and had thick black hair pulled back into pigtails. Small pink ribbons tied them up and sat right under her ears, looking like a child´s earrings. She wore a pink apron which covered a blue tracksuit.
Behind her lay a tray piled 30 centimeters high with blue pots and pans, the steel kind you can buy in any Mexican market. Each one had aluminum foil as a lid.
“Comida, Señor,” she said.
I was still staring at her, “Si, señora, pásele”.
She nodded and turned and in one swoop bent down and scooped the tray in one hand and steadied it with the other. She rose and span around to face me once more. “¿Permiso?” she said.
“Pásele,” I repeated.
When she saw the Governor, she paused a second and I could tell she had looked him right in the eye. I guessed she knew his face well, but didn´t admit it. “Buenas tardes,” she said at him.
He did not look at her straight, just nodded.
She walked into the office and I followed her. She put the tray down on my desk and began unwrapping the foil covers while explaining what the dishes were.
Our food was home cooked. Prepared with love, which I found strange. Why did Salvatierra or indeed Esteban, or indeed their personal hostage cook give a damn about our living standards. I certainly didn´t. But I was hungry, that was for sure.
The señora turned to me and finished, “tenedores, cucharas. Deje todo afuera cuando terminen.” Forks, spoons, leave it outside when you´re done.
I thanked her and asked her name. She again shot a glance at the Governor before answering, “me llaman Concha, señor.”
“Gracias Concha,” I said and she left.
“You have to untie my hands,” said Pep.
I walked to him and grabbed one of the knives Concha had left, and cut through the zip tie at his wrists. I braced myself for his attack too, but I knew he wouldn´t get far with his feet tied up too. But he didn´t make a move. He just stretched his arms out wide with relief.
“Can we eat?” he said.
“Sure.” And I served up the dishes.
The food was exquisite. Both Pep and I ravaged the plates, one by one. Pep said it was his favorite dish, which cheered him up. Mexico, where food is so important.
It took us under twenty minutes to devour the lot, and I brewed a pot of coffee and offered one to Pep, who smiled and took it gratefully.
“You´re captured too, aren´t you?” he said, once we had finished and I had shifted the dirty pans and plates outside the office.
“In a sense, yes,” I said, as we took our seats in the cramped space. “I have little choice about what I´m doing, put it that way.”
“Huh?” he said. His English was fluent enough, but he didn´t understand everything.
“I mean,” I said. “I don´t have o
ptions.”
He nodded.
We sipped our coffees in silence for the next ten minutes.
“I guess people will be looking for you like crazy,” I said.
He looked up from his cup. His face was dead straight. Not a single emotion. A poker face from heaven. I could not get a read at all.
“Yes. The military will be informed. Then they will work out the protocol. They´ll find me. And you, too.”
Salvatierra´s uniform flashed into my mind.
“That´s why it´s better to tell me you are captured. If that´s the truth,” he said. “They´ll kill you if not. Shoot on sight.”
I nodded.
“You have any idea who might want to hurt you?” I asked.
“Don´t you know that? Who captured you?”
I stared at him. “I can´t tell you anything.”
He shrugged. “Well, why are you asking me?”
I shrugged back at him. “I know nothing.”
And we stayed silent for a long while. Pep took a nap, but I just sat and drank all the coffee from the pot. I craved a hard drink but it had to do.
And we waited. Hours passed. My computer and the TV had been removed.
No sign of Jason. No sign of anyone.
Chapter Eighteen
Outside the light was getting lower. I figured it was evening time and I was starting to get cabin fever and I wanted to find Eleanor. I left the office and walked up and down outside. I thought hard about my options. I knew I was still useful to them. They would have wasted me if not. And that meant Eleanor was safe. I didn´t want to think of the alternative.
I told Pep I was leaving quickly. He said it would be best to stay, but I shrugged it off and took a walk, leaving Polysol´s lot.
The industrial park street was desolate. The street lights were out, and no steam vapor poured from any of the great hulks of businesses spread around.
Still, I took caution, walking slowly outside and sticking to the edge of the walkway.
I used the grassy pathways to the sides of the main streets, just to be sure. But it was unnecessary I soon realized. The park had been closed. For our benefit, I supposed.
After fifteen minutes, I made it to the main entrance of the industrial park. But the lights of the security cabins were out. I stalked up to them from behind, so the angle was too short from their windows to detect me, and crouched under the main window, before slowly rising and looking in. Nothing.
I was about to turn back when a sharp blue light bounced off a shiny surface in the guard´s cabin, then a red one. I crouched.
Taking my time, I shuffled along the side of the security booth until I made the wall, and peered around it.
The entrance, and the part of the enclosing fence of the industrial park was full to the brim with police. They had lined it with squad cars to make an effective barrier of metal and flesh, and guns.
I hunched down and stalked back to the interior of the park. From there, I took a side street which looked identical to that which housed the Polysol site. After four big businesses, and about a kilometer of tarmac, I reached the south side perimeter of the park.
It too was lined with cops.
This time, I stayed well back. It was almost dark but I didn´t want to take any chances. Salvatierra´s threat had been genuine.
I did a count, multiplying the amount of cops I could see visibly on the 200 meter section of fence in front of me. I guessed the whole park was a good 1.5 km by 1.5 km, and I counted 20 squad cars and 40 cops. That made 600 patrol cars, and 1200 cops.
Even if I was being overly generous, half of that amount made the prospect of escape impossible.
The dark sky had changed and a thin layer of cloud covered the stars, and the horizon merged into the great black cape of cloud. I could hear a small rumble of chatter and engines running from the line of cops.
I walked slowly to Polysol and saw nobody in the darkness. I got to the trailer and opened the door. Pep was sat up looking anxious.
“Where were you?” he said.
“Seeing if we could make a run for it.”
“And?”
“No chance in hell,” I said.
Chapter Nineteen
I collected the plates and what was left of the food and put it outside the cabin door, and walked back in.
Pep had already laid down on his sofa. I turned off the lights and walked behind my desk and laid down on the cold, hard floor. Sleep began to wash over me in an instant. My eyes rolled back towards my weary brain and I felt my breathing become heavier.
Then Pep spoke from the darkness, “They will find me, you know.”
I remained silent.
“Is your name really Mark?” he asked.
I sighed. I wanted to sleep
“Yes, it is,” I said.
There was another five minutes of silence before Pep started again, “What will this bring?”
“For whom?”
“For whoever is doing this? What´s to gain?”
I rolled it over. I knew Esteban was behind this. I knew he was interested in affecting markets and companies. And according to Jason far dirtier and darker activities too.
“No idea.”
But what did Esteban want with Pep? And why did he need me to frame? I longed for Jason´s phone more than ever. I needed to speak with him. I ran back through our conversation a few days earlier, in the cantina. But I made it two minutes in and fell asleep.
Pep woke me. He was saying my name in that annoying loud shushed voice that people use when they want to wake someone but seem to be quiet. I looked up. It was light outside. I had slept a solid 10 hours at least. My head hurt from the lack of water I´d drunk. And my back was in agony from the floor that had served as my bed.
Pep was repeating my name, “Mark. Mark. Mark.”
“What is it?”
“The door,” he said. “Someone´s outside.”
I sat up. My back felt like someone had snapped it. I got up to my feet and walked to the door, I opened and peered out. There stood Concha, with a new tray, and new plates covered in aluminum foil. “Buenos días,” she said.
I greeted her and asked her how she got in. There was no truck or car with her. No-one at all.
She shrugged. “Caminando, señor,” she said. Walking.
I let her pass me into the office. Pep smiled at her and she unloaded the stuff onto my desk. She walked past me and smiled. Then she left the cabin and shut the door.
She must be close, I thought. Which meant Salvatierra - and maybe Eleanor - must be close too.
I started the coffee machine using water from the WC tap. I served up Pep his breakfast and mine. It was molletes. I had come to love spice in the mornings, with decent black coffee, piping hot. Something in the combination of those two senses prickled you awake.
I had felt hungry and took heart from a returning appetite. Pep was enjoying his food too. The most basic of needs, when exceeding your rudimentary requirements, yields the power to change your heart. Like a glass of cold water in the desert, or a cigarette after some drama. We were grateful as we destroyed the warm bread and beans. We felt grateful to them.
We were hostages for sure.
We finished and both took second coffees. We sipped them in silence for a long while before Pep started speaking. “My family will be beside themselves with preoccupation.”
“Worry,” I said.
“Huh?”
“The word is “worry” not preoccupation.”
Pep shrugged. “Is it incorrect”?
I sighed. “No, not exactly. But it sounds weird.”
Pep shrugged again.
We stayed silent for an hour. The silence hummed in my ears. The small space of the porte-office shrank into me, like the walls were moving. My mood descended into a dark place.
Maybe Jason was dead, his corpse somewhere here in Polysol?
What if they´d found him the night I left to the Sierra and just shot him there and then? I coul
d hardly ask Salvatierra the next time I saw him. And I hadn´t seen him anyway. Salvatierra had been as AWOL as Jason in fact. Concha the cook was our sole connection to the outside.
“What´s your plan, Pep?” I asked.
He looked up from where he had had his head slumped in the sofa arm, dozing.
“How do you mean?”
“With your career?” I said. “What´s next after Governor?”
Pep sat up. He thought about his answer for a few seconds. “I don´t know. Honestly. I know that people like you, and most other people, think we politicians are all ´rateros´, only interested in our own careers. And a large proportion of congress is like that, believe me. But we are not all driven by ego. I care about Lujano. Everything I do, I do for Lujano, and Mexico. I was born here and my parents both worked during a time when both parents didn´t work. But mine had to. They struggled to put me and my brother through school. And I mean public school. Just to get me there on time every day was hard. I got into the UNAM on merit, and then a scholarship to Harvard. I don´t take anything for granted.”
I looked at him. He wasn´t lying. People did one of two things when they lied. They either looked all over the place, darting their gaze around, avoiding eye contact, or they stared too intensely, like they were aware of it. A sure sign of memorized script. Lying was an art. And Pep did not need to use it here. It came from his heart. The way his eyes sunk to the side at every sentence, always returning to my eye line. And sinking again. Real feelings cannot be hidden so easily. I knew that.
“So maybe this position of State Governor I have is the end of the road for me. That´s fine. I will use it to do as much good as I can. Do you know, or have you heard of our projects?”
I shook my head.
“We have the best attendance rates for public schools in the whole of Mexico. The lowest unemployment rates. The lowest crime. I cleaned out the cabinet that was before me, and made a lot of enemies. It´s probably why I´m here.”