Authors: Derek Blass
“
Cruz is a lawyer where we live. Sandra is a reporter for one of the local news stations up there too.”
“
Ahhh, a fellow media person,” Raul noted. Cruz watched as they smiled at each other. “And him?” Raul asked looking at Alfonso.
“
That's a longer story. Let's just say he's an interested bystander with a debt to repay.”
Raul looked around them at the surrounding hills. “Let's get your car in the garage and go inside. These hills have eyes.” Cruz supported Sandra by her arm and followed Raul into the home. The man on the porch sat motionless. Not a twitch as they passed with Cruz wondering if he wasn't one of those sculpted Indian figures you see outside of smoke shops. To his surprise, there was a whole group of men inside the house when they entered. They sat around a big, circular pine table littered with bottles and chips and cards and packs of cigarettes. It was the moment in the dream when a whole roomfull of people looks up at you.
“
Todos, estos son amigos de Carmen y Martinez
,” Raul announced. The people in the room collectively grunted and went back to their activities.
One woman stood out. She was seated on a couch with her back to them, watching a news station. Raul pointed toward the same couch and invited them to sit down. They did but the woman still didn't acknowledge them. Instead, she sat focused on the television and without looking at them said, “It's riveting. We're sitting in a war zone. Evil fighting a little less evil in a struggle over a multibillion-dollar drug trade. Bodies found limbless in the middle of the street. Tongues delivered in boxes. Decapitated heads lined on fences. Skeletons resting in metal cans full of acid. Kidnapping, rape, murder, extortion, bribery. Riveting.”
“
She hasn't taken her eyes off that set since getting here,” Raul whispered to Cruz.
“
I hear you, and no, I haven't,” Alicia answered. “This is the eye of the storm delivered on a seventeen-inch rabbit ear television.” Raul just shook his head and pulled up an old wood chair next to Cruz.
“
It's true, you know?”
“
What's that?”
“
These border towns are at the center of a colossal struggle. The government, supposedly cracking down on the drug trade they facilitated for fifty years. The drug lords fighting back with armies of their own. No one is safe. These monsters dump mutilated bodies at schools' doorsteps to intimidate children. Mind control,
hombre
. Inculcating the youth. The streets are
vacio
by seven every night. Any surviving businesses either pay off the government or the drug lords or both.
Burros
line up to make border runs and shit out
la cocaina
and
la marijuana
on the other side for rich
gringos
to consume. And that's what it is brother, the destruction of human life just to get highhhhhhhhhhh.”
“
You working to stop it?”
“
Man...there's no stopping this. No revolutionary group has the might of capitalism behind it. When money is at issue, ideals and politics take a back seat. No, we will let them fight and kill each other until all of those
cabrones
are dead.” Cruz looked at the television which showed a report on the kidnapping of a teenage girl from right in front of her school. She was some politician's daughter.
“
You seen that video Martinez has?” Raul asked, changing the subject.
“
Not all the way through,” Cruz answered hesitantly. He was relieved when the door to the garage opened and Martinez came into the house with Alfonso and Carmen.
“
So what's the plan, brother?” Raul asked Martinez.
“
First, sit down. I'm beat up to hell.”
“
No shit.”
“
Then, figure out what to do with this,” he said as he flung the safe with the video to Raul.
“
This it?”
“
That's it. Fucking blood-stained video. The life lost over that video...” Alicia broke her focus on the television and looked at Martinez. “Just don't know what to say, man, other than I've got an obligation to make the contents of that video matter.”
“
You watched it yet?”
“
Why? I was there.”
“
More to make sure it's even got what you expect it to have.”
“
No. Pandora's box opened in the last two weeks. I've been surviving.”
“
You mind if we watch it?”
“
Nope.” Raul handed the mini-safe back to Martinez so he could open it. Martinez punched a few digits into the electronic keypad and opened the safe.
Cruz noticed him handle the drive delicately, seemingly in reverence to its contents, the lives lost protecting it. Then he turned his attention to Alicia. “Excuse me, but who are you?” Cruz asked her.
Martinez answered for her, slightly protective, “That's Alicia Williams. She is—was—my partner's wife.”
“
I'm still his wife. It's just that God separated us.” Cruz sat quietly and looked at her until she changed her position, relieving him of his unspoken duty to be mournful.
Sensing the tension Raul said, “Let's go downstairs to watch it. I've got another television and a laptop set up.” Cruz, Martinez, and Alfonso followed him. Carmen sat with Sandra and Alicia on the couch.
Downstairs was a fortress. Steel lined the four walls. A generator sat silently in a corner. One wall was full of canned fruits, vegetables and meats. Another wall had a workbench laden with boxes of ammunition. Guns of all types were mounted on the wall.
“
We don't fuck around,” Raul said to Cruz. Cruz smiled sheepishly at him. The firepower was humbling. Raul pulled some folding chairs into the middle of the room and gestured to everyone to sit down. They did and Raul went about setting up the video.
“
Okay, here we go,” Raul said. He turned the lights in the room off and pulled up his own chair. Cruz half expected him to start a popcorn machine. The screen went from black to slightly colorful. The house in the jostling picture was run down, a whiteish-gray with peeling paint. Weeds grew around the perimeter of the house, about a month tall. The camera followed three officers around the side of the house while a separate group took place at the front of the house.
“
Is your sound broken?” Martinez asked.
“
No, no. Must just be the video.” They watched in silence as one of the officers with Martinez used a devastating kick to break in the back door. The cameraman stormed into the home directly behind the last officer. Martinez led the group, checking rooms off the hall while moving to the front of the house. The group stopped at the end of the hall, which opened into a larger living area. The camera peeked around the officers who were pressed against the wall.
Martinez lowered his gun. The rest of his group did the same. They walked into the room and the camera focused on a young woman crying on the ground, her eyes squinted and her hands over her forehead. An old man lay motionless on a couch next to her. The camera panned up to one of the officers who was making agitated gestures at the camera with his finger.
“
That's Shaver,” Martinez said, identifying him although his back was to the camera.
The camera dropped to floor level but something kept it tilted up.
“
Smart,” Raul murmured.
“
What's that?”
“
He's got the camera propped up on his foot.”
They watched as the young woman grabbed onto Shaver's leg. He kicked her off and she went reeling like a stuffed doll toward the wall behind her. After some seconds Shaver pointed his gun at the old man, who was still motionless. He jabbed his gun into the old man, which is when Martinez made his move toward Shaver. When he did, Shaver's gun unleashed several rounds into the old man. The camera shook from the shots and as if to coincide with real life, a man's voice from upstairs cried out to all of them, “
Oye!
”
A cannon-like boom sounded from upstairs, followed by the splintering of a door. Cruz jumped out of his seat and instinctively went toward the stairs. He saw Sandra on her stomach at the top of the stairs.
“
Sandra, get down here!” he screamed out as he rushed up the stairs. She sat still, immobilized by the blast. Cruz got to the top step and grabbed Sandra under her arms. He got a glimpse of the men at the pine table. It was now turned on its side, functioning as a shield from the bullets. A
rattlle, rattlle tat tat tat
came from the front door and pieces of the table flew around the room. Cruz hauled Sandra down the stairs just as Raul and Martinez came rushing in his direction, guns in hand.
“
Where's Carmen?!” Martinez screamed.
“
Still up there!”
Sandra crawled to the middle of the room where she rested on her knees bawling. Alfonso was crouched, frog-like, behind a chair. Alicia remained in the upstairs room, sitting still in her chair and staring at the screen in front of her. Cruz pointed at Alfonso and said, “You grab one of these guns and protect these women!” He nodded and pushed his chair up to the stairway as Martinez brought Carmen downstairs.
Sounds of material being broken surrounded them. Wood splintered. Glass shattered. Ceramic ware exploded as both sides exchanged fire. Martinez crouched at the top of the stairs and urgently called to Alicia.
“
Alicia...Alicia! Get over here!” She turned around and stared blankly at him.
“
What the fuck is her problem?” Cruz asked from right behind Martinez.
“
She's fucking traumatized.”
Cruz looked behind him at Alfonso and the women. Alfonso was still behind the chair with his gun pointed up the stairway. As Cruz turned back around, he heard a thump and then a scream. Alicia's eyes were peeled back wide. Blood shot out from her throat and nose.
“
Oh my god,” Martinez said. He crawled to the couch and pulled Alicia down in front of it. “Goddammit!” Martinez cried out as he put his hands on her neck. It was no use. Blood streamed through his hands and Alicia went limp.
The rest of the room was in similar disarray. Several of the men Cruz had seen at the poker table were either shot or taking cover behind objects. Then something startling happened. Cruz watched as Martinez started to wipe Alicia's blood on his face and chest.
“
Martinez...what the hell?”
“
Just stay down there Cruz!”
Raul was pinned down behind the couch where he had been trying to return fire. Cruz covered his mouth and gagged when he saw Alicia exhale her last breath. The gunfire subsided some. Cruz heard moaning and the occasional piece of glass fall to the floor in the main part of the house.
Martinez was pointing furiously at the security room. “Get in that room. Fucking trust me Raul!” Raul scurried from the couch to the stairs and squeezed past Cruz. He went and checked on Carmen and Sandra, who were huddled in the back corner of the room. Cruz saw Martinez lay down on the ground next to Alicia and put one of her legs over his head.
“
Check that side room!” Cruz heard someone scream from the front of the house. A set of footsteps crunched toward him. After several tense seconds, a shadow appeared around the corner and Cruz slowly backed down the steps. The only sound was the muffled cry of Carmen and Sandra. The three men knelt in the center of the room, hearts slamming against their sternums as they waited for the final showdown.
Cruz could hear someone rubbing against the wall while advancing. The noise stopped at the top of the steps.
“
We know you're down there! Might as well give it up,
hijitos
.” There was a pause followed by, “I hear your bitches crying. If you don't surrender it's gonna be a hell of a lot worse for them!” The men pointed their guns at the stairs. Cruz's hands were shaking.
“
I'll give you three seconds. Make a smart decision, would you? One...two...thr...”
“
Three motherfucker,” Cruz heard Martinez say. Now Martinez's plan came to fruition. The men had taken the bait and thought Martinez was dead. “Get your fucking hands above your head! Tell that fucker over there to get his hands up too! Guys, get the hell up here now!” The three of them bolted up the stairs and came upon the blood-smeared Martinez with his gun held to a weaselly looking middle-aged man's head. There was another man in the center of the room, dark, criminal-looking, with a sneer on his face.
“
Take care of that one,” Martinez said to Cruz. Alfonso and Cruz went and grabbed the man's hands and held them behind his back. Martinez put his arm around his prisoner's neck and spun him towards the other men.
“
Pot of gold here, gentlemen.”
“
Who is it?” Raul asked, slightly out of breath.
“
Our police chief.”
T W E N T Y-E I G H T
__________________________________________________
T
yler's hands and ankles were bound. He tested the bindings, but they were rock solid. Shaver circled around him in the small room. Tyler could see him getting more and more agitated. His face started to turn red and his breathing shortened. He was a bull of a man, with biceps the size of Tyler's thighs. He wore an army camouflage jacket and black tactical pants. This only added to the intimidation level. Tyler spent the last hour praying that he would get out of this...somehow.