at her in disbelief. She stood by the open door, contempt burning in her eyes.
Finally, he muttered his plaintive reply,
“Please, Celeste, don’t do this to me . . . to us. I know that I am hotheaded
sometimes, but you have no idea what you’ve done to me. I am a changed
person. You opened my eyes to things I have never seen before or was too blind
to see. The political injustice that has been going on in this country for decades,
benefiting the likes of my own family. I have changed, Celeste, and I want to do
something about our social and political injustice. I just don’t know how to go
about it. I don’t know what to do on my own. Please don’t cast me aside like I
am the wrapper off some candy bar! Let me prove to you that I can help make a
difference! I will do anything, anything you tell me. I am lost without you. My
life has no meaning without you. All the money, the luxuries that my family
has accumulated over the years, they mean nothing to me. They got my father
nowhere except an early grave. I can make a difference. You will see, if only you
give me one chance to prove myself.”
Lonnie was sobbing uncontrollably by the time he finished the last
sentence. The girl from Tucumán knew that she had him in the palm of her
hand. Her plan had worked to perfection.
“Stop your sniveling! You say you are a man that is ready to make a
difference, yet you stand here before me crying like a baby. I don’t think you
are man enough to be a part of what I must do. Get out.”
“Celeste, if you make me go, life will be empty for me. Tell me what to do.
I love you so much, I will do anything. Don’t waste my life without benefiting
from my help, because if you make me leave now, I have nothing to live for.
I know . . . I know that I will do something, something violent and stupid! I
would be out of my mind over losing you. Let me help you do whatever it is you
must do. Let me meet your brothers. Let them decide about me. You can trust
me! Put me to work, because my life is in your hands!”
Celeste kept her eyes locked on his and slowly closed the door behind her.
This would be easier than she had anticipated. The tutor crossed the room to
where Lonnie stood, took his hand, and led him into the bedroom. She made
him sit on a small wooden chair that she pulled from beneath her makeup
table. It was barely sturdy enough to hold his massive frame.
The half-dressed woman wanted her visitor to be uncomfortable and on
edge. She climbed onto her double bed and sat cross-legged, staring at him for
several minutes without saying a word. Finally, she spoke.
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“That chair is not comfortable for you, Lonnie, is it? You would like it
much better if you could join me here on the bed, wouldn’t you? You had better
get used to being uncomfortable if we let you join us. Your present life is like
this bed: soft, warm, and inviting. Your new life will be like that chair, hard
and unyielding. Are you strong enough to endure the hardships that will surely
accompany your new life? Do you think you can take it without running back
to Mama at the first sign of trouble? Once we let you in, the only way out is in
a casket! Does that scare you, my petit bourgeoisie?”
He didn’t even feel the chair beneath him. He was so exhilarated with the
thought that he would finally be able to make a difference, to do something
useful with his life, to be with her!
“No, I am not scared. The only thing that scares me is losing you, Celeste.
I have fought many demons in my life, but none like the ones I would have to
cope with if I could not prove worthy of your love. I am ready to follow you
anywhere!”
“Forget about your past brawling and macho bullshit. That was schoolboy
stuff compared to what I will ask of you. Have you ever fired a handgun or
rifle? Do you know anything about explosives? How about killing a man with
a knife so that he doesn’t make a sound? These are the kind of things that you
must learn, the kind of things that I will ask of you, if you stay. You had better
get it through that cement head of yours right now that I am not joking about
any of this.”
Celeste rose from the bed and went to her dresser. From the top drawer
she took two objects, and when she turned to face him, tossed a spherical object
into his lap. Lonnie caught it just inches away from his groin. He looked down
at his hand in amazement, but didn’t flinch. He was holding a military issue
hand grenade. When he looked up at her, she was pointing a cocked pistol
directly at his head. A broad smile appeared on her pretty face.
“So, cowboy, do you still want to play my game? It is a deadly game, be
certain of that. This is your last chance to say adios, or you will be in for the
rest of your life. Now, what will it be, stay and play, or run and hide behind the
high, safe walls of your family’s mansion?”
“I’ll play your game, Señorita. I am not afraid to die. All I am afraid of is
losing you. Teach me. Teach me to use these things and I will do your bidding.
Just like in your tutorials, you will see that I am a fast learner.”
Lonnie could feel his own weapon growing hard under the coarse denim
of his blue jeans. Celeste looked incredibly sexy standing there in his dress-
shirt, the revolver in her hand. She must have felt the sexual tension as well,
for she straddled his legs and sat down on his lap. She pressed the barrel of the
pistol to his temple, then thrust her bare love nest rhythmically against his
swollen, straining member.
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“Don’t fuck with me, Lonnie, or I’ll make sure that you will be both
coming and going at the same time. You understand me, you big stud?”
He said nothing, simply placed his mouth on hers and kissed her
passionately. Rising from the chair, he carried her the few steps to the bed, her
legs wrapped around his waist, the pistol still held to his temple. He had never
been so sexually charged in his life. It was only during her orgasm as he feasted
on her sweet delights that she finally dropped the deadly object, moaning and
writhing in ecstasy. Lonnie then used his own concealed ‘canon’ on her, with
similar results.
He was in charge now, and for once, it would be him that controlled the
tempo and flow of their union. He was insatiable, taking her several different
ways before exploding all over her breasts, face, and hair. It was nearly two
hours since she had tossed the grenade in his lap.
Their moans and sighs intermingled as they lay in each other’s arms.
Lonnie could not see the sly grin on Celeste’s face as she rested with her head on
his shoulder. This will be fun, she thought. Training a new martyr for the cause, and
getting fucked like that at the same time. This is a bonus that I hadn’t counted on.
Two days later, Lonnie was hastily summoned to Celeste’s flat. She had
made certain that her infatuated lover would return immediately to the scene
of their most recent union by using her sexiest voice, saying that she had been
horny ever since their last tryst. She had informed
him that she was consumed
by an uncontrollable need to be taken roughly again, to be dominated and
pleasured into submission.
Lonnie didn’t need an engraved invitation. His mother had been tormenting
him about his summer plans all throughout their noon day meal together. She
was insistent that he take some extra business courses at the university while
doing volunteer work at No Se Preocupe on weekends. The trust fund that
Lydia had set up for him paid out a healthy monthly allowance, and Florencia
was well aware that her eldest son did not need to supplement his income by
taking some meaningless job just to occupy his time. He had told her that he
would go by the registrar’s office that afternoon to find out whatever he could
about summer courses. That is where Florencia assumed he was going when he
left Casa San Marco in a big hurry shortly after luncheon had concluded.
Lonnie’s erotic anticipation waned as soon as he entered Celeste’s flat. She
was fully clothed, and the icy tone of her voice told him that there would be no
carnal games played today.
“Sit down on the couch, Lonnie. I have someone here that wants to meet
you.” Her voice and manner were completely detached and businesslike. “First,
however, I must blindfold you for security purposes.
I hope you don’t mind, but if things go well, the blindfold will not be
needed again.”
12
JAMES McCREATH
She moved behind him, taking a black silk scarf from the side table.
Lonnie was both excited and terrified. He hoped that she hadn’t noticed the
sweat on his brow as she tightened the scarf around his head. He sat in total
darkness now, unable to see a thing.
The student was aware of movement behind him, and what sounded like
two or more people entering the living room. He was tempted to tear the
blindfold from his eyes and confront these mystery people eye to eye, man to
man. But he had told Celeste that he was man enough to play her game, so he
remained seated and silent in his blacked out dungeon.
“Lonnie, my two brothers are in the room with us now, and be forewarned,
they are armed with handguns equipped with silencers. If you make a move to
discard your blindfold, or if your answers are not honest and true, they will not
hesitate to use their weapons. Be careful what you say.”
Celeste spoke to the men in French for a few seconds, then there was
silence. Lonnie could once again feel movement in the room, adjacent the couch
where he sat. Are they circling their prey for the kill? he thought. The blindfolded
visitor was surprised at how soft and articulate the voice was that finally broke
the silence.
“Señor Lonfranco Ernesto De Seta, it is a pleasure to finally meet your
acquaintance. I apologize for the necessity of the blindfold, however. One can
not be too careful in these times. I am Serge Lavalle. No doubt Celeste has told
you a bit about my brother and me. Jean Pierre is here in the room with us as
well, but I will be the only one addressing you this afternoon.
“Celeste has apparently had quite an effect on your political philosophy,
Señor De Seta. She has told us that you are ready and willing to try to make a
difference in our beloved country’s political future. Frankly, I am surprised that
you would risk your considerable fortune to attain martyrdom, for make no
mistake, Señor, that is the only place our actions will lead us. It is only through
our actions and our blood that Argentina will achieve its true destiny. A nation
where all people share equally in the bounty of our great and prosperous land.
Not just the wealthy, the military, the corrupt, but all the people! That is
the way our great leader and founder, Juan Domingo Perón would have made
Argentina forever, had not certain satanic forces worked to promote his downfall
and ultimate death.
“The three of us are Montoneros, Señor De Seta, and as such, there are
death warrants on our heads. Each of us, even Celeste, has killed for the cause,
and it is precisely what we expect of you as well. These are not childrens’s
games we play, Señor. We have had two brothers killed already in our fight
for justice. It is their martyrdom that makes us relentless in the pursuit of our
goal. Nothing will stop us. Not even the bullets of the government lackeys.”
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Lonnie sat listening intently to every word that Serge Lavalle said. He was
given a lecture on the history of the Montonero movement, the greatness of
Juan Domingo Perón, the diabolical corruptness of the succession of leaders that
vowed to remove Perónism from Argentina’s political structure, and a forecast
on just how the rebel organizations would one day band together and realize
that Perónism was the only true form of political freedom for the people of
Argentina. Lavalle spoke with a passion and insight that had reminded Lonnie
of his first private political debates with Celeste. It had been necessary for her
to be extremely guarded in her statements then, but Lonnie could now see the
same political undertone running through Serge’s monologue.
What it all came down to was the use of force, extortion, murder, and
widespread civil disobedience as a way of showing the general populous that
the current political and economic situation was bankrupting the country,
benefiting only those at the very top of the hierarchy.
Inflation had reached astronomical proportions in the last few years,
well over three hundred percent per annum at times, and the current junta
had removed protective tariffs on imported goods, flooding the local markets
with cheap imports and driving many local manufacturers to bankruptcy. The
offshoot of this economic policy was that more workers were unemployed,
reducing their influence as a political force. Cattle and grain had, once again,
become the only real exports of value to the Argentine economy. As such, it
was the members of the old oligarchy friendly to the junta that prospered the
most.
Serge Lavalle rhymed off several of the past holdings of De Seta
International SA, making it clear to Lonnie that this man knew a lot more
about the De Setas than he had ever expected. It was also made clear to Lonnie
that the Montoneros included his family as part of the same oligarchy that was
profiting the most under the current economic climate. It was becoming very
clear to Lonnie why he would be such a prized disciple of the Montonero cause
if he were allowed to join them. He was, as Celeste had told him, everything
she had grown to despise about the current political landscape. Her coup had
been recruiting and transforming an oligarchist into a populist. The fact that
her ex-student was in love with her had certainly made the job easier.
Celeste had never used the term ‘Montonero’ in any of her discussions with
Lonnie, whether in private or publicly in her tutorials. She had only referred to
the subversives as ‘revolutionaries.’ Even so, Lonnie was well aware of the violent
and chaotic events for which this particular cadre of ‘revolutionaries’ had been
responsible.
Over the past twenty years, hundreds of people, from high-ranking
government and military officials to local police and judicial authorities had
felt the wrath of these cold-blooded killers. Innocent people often got in the
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way of their murderous schemes, and the outrage of the general populous
against the continuing terror tactics of the Montoneros caused ruling military
powers to not just react, but to overreact. Pitched military battles combined
with sweeping arrests of anyone with mildly leftist views had wiped out all but
the best organized and most secretive of the ‘revolutionary’ cadres by 1977.
The Marxist E.R.P., or People’s Revolutionary Army, had lost their
charismatic leader Mario Roberto Santucho in a wild gun battle in July of
1976. The military junta that had deposed Juan Perón’s widow, Maria Estela
Martinez De Perón, from the presidency four months before Santucho’s death
proclaimed that they would stop the terrorism through a policy known as ‘the
PRN’ or the Process of National Reorganization.
In reality, the PRN was nothing more than a thinly veiled antiterrorist
guise that allowed the junta to revoke virtually all civil liberties throughout the
entire country. They even encouraged the formation of their own antiterrorist
guerrilla group, a ruthless band of right-wing cutthroats called ‘the A.A.A.’ or
the Argentine Anti-Communist Alliance. It was little wonder that present-day
Buenos Aires often resembled a town right out of the American Wild West.
Exactly who was responsible for the latest bombing, kidnapping, or shootout
was often never resolved. Suffice it to say that many a cowboy died with his
boots on in the name of whatever cause held his favor at the time.
The Lavalles must have been both smart and lucky to still be alive in
December of 1977. The blindfold around Lonnie’s head could attest to their
caution, and Serge’s lecture on the political forces of the day was only the
precursor of many tests that Lonnie would be forced to endure before they
would trust him as one of their revolutionary brothers.
After what seemed like an eternity of sitting and listening in his dark
obscurity, Lonnie was finally asked his first question. He welcomed a chance
to respond.
“So you see, Lonnie, our life is not one of glamour, fame, and material
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