Authors: Derek Blass
“
Oh shit…gotcha,” he said.
T W E N T Y-F O U R
__________________________________________________
C
armen and Alicia sat in the car as a gas station attendant filled their tank. Carmen heard two taps on the trunk and looked back at the attendant who was smiling at her as if he knew something she didn’t. She started the car and made it a few blocks away when she noticed his nasty trick. The gas gauge hardly budged. Oh well, she thought, just a few more miles to her brother’s house.
They passed through what had been a continuous, rocky and arid landscape. Every twenty miles or so, rundown buildings dotted the bareness—
tiendas
,
farmacias
and the like. They cruised along an empty highway until Carmen slammed on the brakes. “Missed it,” she said. She turned the car around and made a right onto a dusty, dirt road. Alicia tensed as Carmen plowed down the road, throwing plumes of dust high into the air around them. They finally arrived at a medium-sized adobe home, nestled into the surrounding environment.
Someone immediately came out of the home to greet them. “
Hermana!! Que paso?!
” The person was a man, forty years old. He had a head of thick, brown hair, combed back. He was about average height but possessed lumberjack arms and butcher's hands. A bushy mustache curled over his lips and rounded out the package.
Raul embraced Carmen almost before she could get out of the car. “
Que bueno verte
!” he exclaimed. “
Y quién es esto
?”
“
This is my friend Alicia,” Carmen said as she hugged Raul. Alicia stuck her hand out and Raul promptly engulfed it with his own.
“
So nice to meet you,” he said with a thick accent.
“
Likewise,” Alicia answered with a smile.
“
Welcome to my little home,” Raul said as he swung his arm around. They followed him toward his house along a meandering path lined with stones. Blood-red Spanish tile floors greeted the visitors, and the inside was replete with bright oranges and yellows. Pots, plates and art gave the home a sense of life. Alicia noticed that the art ranged from depictions of Native American scenes to Santa Clara pottery. She stopped in front of a specific painting. It was of a man with a beard and a cigar in his hand.
“
Who's this?” Alicia asked.
“
En serio
?” Raul asked. He looked at Alicia in amazement and then playfully rolled his eyes and stuck an imaginary dagger into his heart. “That is Che. Maybe someday I will tell you about him.”
“
So,
hermana
, what brings you to this border barrio?” He directed them to sit in his sunlit living room.
“
Well,” Carmen said, not knowing quite where to start, “there was recently an incident of police brutality, and Roman happened to be there.”
“
How long ago did this happen?” he asked.
“
A week.”
“
Why didn't you come to me sooner? Is he okay?”
“
He was okay last I saw him, but I haven't heard from him in two days,” Carmen said as her lip quivered. She looked over at Alicia, who was holding back tears. “It might not have been so significant except that the incident was videotaped.”
This drew Raul's attention. “Have you seen the video?”
“
No, I don't even know where it is. Roman won't tell me.”
“
That's smart,” Raul said. “Do you know what he plans on doing with it...if he has it?”
“
I don't, but let me tell you the rest of the story so you really understand how serious this is,” Carmen said.
“
It gets more serious than this?” Raul quipped with a slight smile until he saw the expression on both women's faces. “
Perdon
.”
“
Shortly after the incident, Roman and his partner, Alvin Williams, were coming back to Williams' home when they noticed that other police officers were already there. When they rushed into the home, they found two of the other officers who were at the murder attacking Alicia.”
“
They were questioning me to try to figure out where the video was,” Alicia added. Raul nodded.
“
It was more than just questioning,” Carmen chastised. “In the ensuing exchange, Alicia's husband killed one of the police officers but also died.” At this point tears had built up so much in Alicia's eyes that they began to pour out. Her shoulders heaved and Carmen reached over to hold her tight. Alicia cried into her shoulder. Raul got up and came back with several tissues.
“
At that point, Roman basically told us to pack up and get out of the country to be safe. I didn't tell him we were going to come here. He probably assumed it though.”
“
You said there were two
polic
í
a at Ms. Alicia's house...what happened to the other?” Raul asked.
“
I don't know what happened to the other officer,” Carmen answered. “Do you?” she asked turning to Alicia.
“
I barely saw him run out—I was more concerned about Alvin.”
“
This other officer that got away, he may still be after Roman?”
“
Yes,” Carmen answered. “But, it's not just that officer. In fact, he isn't the greatest danger. There's another one that's a menace. I never trusted him, Raul. His name is Shaver. He's pretty much loathed in the community because despite leading a vicious attack on a young man about fifteen years ago, he was allowed to stay on the force. Shaver is the one Roman needs to watch out for.”
Raul stood up, “
Quieres algo de tomar
?” he asked Carmen. She shook her head no. “You, Alicia, do you want something to drink?”
“
Yes, thank you. I'll take a water.” Alicia turned to Carmen. “We aren't just here to hide out, are we?”
“
No,” Carmen answered.
“
So, why are we here? We could have stayed at a hotel.”
“
First off, this place is the safest place for us. Second, we are going to need Raul.”
“
For what?”
Carmen paused and tried to analyze Alicia's commitment to exposing this incident. She just wasn't ready, Carmen thought. Carmen, on the other hand, almost as if telepathically connected to Martinez, was ready to do what she could to expose the contents of the drive. Alicia was too entrenched in the regime to flip around one hundred and eighty degrees. Carmen decided to dodge the question instead.
“
Raul,” she called, “Why don't you come over here and tell Alicia the story of Che Guevara?”
* * * *
The phone rang like a siren and all of the men ran to the room where Martinez was waking up.
“
Hello?” he strained. After a pause he said, “Yes, there are others here.” Martinez set the phone down on the bed and turned the speaker phone on. A man on the other end of the line said, “Go ahead...introduce yourselves.”
Enraged, Cruz blurted out, “We don't need to fucking know each other—just give Sandra back!”
“
Slow down, stallion,” the man said. “If you cooperate, this little beauty will be returned to you with, perhaps, a scratch or two. But I extend my invitation again, introduce yourselves.”
The men hesitated and looked at Martinez, who nodded at them.
“
Cruz Marquez.”
“
Diego and Alfonso Archuleta.”
“
And Martinez, I certainly don't need you to introduce yourself.” The other men looked at Martinez.
“
You know this guy?” Diego pressed.
“
I do.”
“
Who is he?”
“
Allow me,” the man said. “I am the Chief of Police for your beloved little city. What I have for you is a very, very simple proposition. The video for the girl. If that transaction does not take place within six hours, your friend here will lose a digit for every fifteen minutes of delay. I have an...acquaintance...who will be more than happy to take Sandy apart, piece by precious piece.”
“
You fucking hurt her at all and I'll kill you!!” Cruz screamed.
“
Watch your tone, my brown friend,” the Chief admonished. “People have been hurt for less than disrespectful language. In any event, the last thing I want is Sandy in fifty pieces. The acquaintance, on the other hand...” the Chief mused. “The bottom line is for you all to use logic. I want the video, not your doll. She is meaningless to me otherwise. Comply, cooperate and she will be fine. Don't, and she will be the first in a long line of victims to your collective stubbornness, or stupidity, whichever would drive you to ignore my direction. Oh, and Martinez? Don't think we'll leave your precious wife out of this.”
“
I don't have a clue what you're talking about Chief.”
“
Sure you don't. I'll call you all back in exactly one hour, and as for Sandra...does she like to go by Sandra or Sandy, Mr. Marquez? It's a difficult enough situation without being called by the wrong name!”
“
Fuck you,” Cruz said.
“
Haven't really learned your lesson yet, huh? I'll see you soon enough. One hour gentlemen.
Ciao
!” The Chief hung up and Martinez's phone emitted an empty dial tone for a few seconds as they sat around in silence.
“
What the hell are we gonna do?” Cruz asked.
“
Give the video to the Chief in exchange for Sandra,” Diego said.
“
Ain't gonna happen,” Martinez said coolly. The other men looked at him in astonishment.
“
What do you mean ain't gonna happen?” Diego asked incredulously. “Listen, we
have
to get Sandra back.”
“
Doesn't mean that anyone is getting this video. I'm about to be very blunt with you guys—one more life lost to ensure this video gets publicized isn't a problem for me. I don't even know why you all got involved. But, you have and now it looks like you all may pay for that shit.” Martinez shifted his weight where he sat and grimaced.
“
Timeout, there's an easy solution,” Cruz began, “we make a copy.”
“
That's not gonna happen either Cruz. I'm not opening this safe for anything other than it's final recipient,” Martinez responded.
“
And who the fuck may that be?!” Cruz yelled.
“
You're pretty wound up...probably 'bout time to settle down,” Martinez said.
“
Sandra's being held captive and is about to get tortured! I don't know how anyone expects me to be calm right now!”
“
I understand what you're feeling Cruz, and you have to believe me, I'm angry too. My best friend was killed over this video. I narrowly escaped death over this video. Believe me, I understand.” Cruz looked at Martinez, judging his sincerity.
“
We can't let this happen to her Martinez,” Cruz pled.
“
Who said we're gonna let anything happen? I'm still a cop and it's not in me to let innocent people die. I know the Chief. His weakness is his ego. We've got to try to exploit that to get Sandra back. He wants the video for Sandra. I'm gonna give him a bullet instead of the video,” Martinez said. This made Cruz feel a little bit better.
“
I'm interested to know one thing,” Diego said. “What do you plan on doing with that video?”
“
Publicize it...make sure as many people are impacted by it as possible. How'm I gonna do that? Not sure yet. It's a good reason to get Sandra back though—she may be able to help.”
* * * *
Shaver wheeled over to an elevator at the end of the hall. Ending up in the doctor's office had been a coup because he had a full lap of medical supplies and the journal. He hit the button for the first floor. The old elevator groaned as it started moving up. It reached the first floor with a thump and the rickety, metal doors slid open.
The upstairs portion of the doctor's home was welcoming—a perfect front. Shaver rolled over to a phone and called for a cab.
His mind raced with what his next step would be. The list in his hands could guarantee the Chief's demise. He knew he couldn't trust that bastard for shit. In fact, he was surprised one of the Chief's henchmen hadn't been around to kill him since he had failed to recover the video. That thing was more important now more than ever—to preserve his hide and to avoid spending the rest of his life in an eight- by-four-foot cell.
Shaver wheeled around the doctor's home. He found a set of locked drawers in a cabinet in the master bedroom. Shaver pulled the set of keys out of his shirt pocket and tested the drawers. Finally, the right key slipped in and Shaver pulled a drawer open.
“
Nice, the doctor that keeps on giving,” Shaver said as he looked at a variety of handguns. He noted that one of them was his beloved Colt. The next drawer contained boxes of ammunition. “Too good to be true.” He heard a horn beep outside and quickly gathered his ever-growing bundle of supplies. As Shaver wheeled his way outside, he decided that his next step was to get that video back. Maybe the Chief would cut him some slack if he did that, especially with what Shaver had on him now.
* * * *