Warriors in Paradise (36 page)

They had made copies of the recorded confessions of Nancy Smith and Alexander Coombs. The five of them, including Jonathan and Miranda, each had a copy. The original was in a safe deposit box in a bank known only to Charlie in Arlington, Virginia. A little insurance never hurt.

It was 12:30 a.m.

The experience had taken something away from all of them. Juliette and Camille had gone away. Valentina was in a world of her own.

They went up to their separate rooms.

Chapter 13: An Unfriendly Visit

No sleep for the weary

S
anti had trouble sleeping. He couldn’t stop thinking that Valentina was just on the other side of the door. She was so near and yet so far.

She was in no state to make love to or to cuddle.

He heard Zulu growling softly, pushing his muzzle through the window blinds. Santi said, “Zulu, what are you growling at, boy?”

Zulu heard his name and froze in place. The hair on his ridge stood on end, and his head pointed out.

Santi stood up and went to the window. As he parted the blinds, he saw a moving shadow. Zulu cocked his head. His growl was soft, yet it was a clear warning.

Santi’s mind went into automatic. He went to the chest of drawers and got out his gun. He opened the connecting door to Valentina and Sandra’s room. As he was approaching Valentina, he saw the muzzle flashes before he heard the sounds of an AK-47 being fired. He rushed to Valentina’s bed, plummeting her to the floor as the spray of semiautomatic fire demolished the windows into a thousand glass crystals.

Santi dragged Valentina along the floor to the bathroom just before a second hail of bullets flew through the shattered windows, gouging the bed and the wall opposite. He opened the bathroom door and pressed her into the shower, telling a frightened and trembling Valentina, “Don’t make a noise! Stay here! You are safe here! I will be back as soon as possible. I love you.”

Santi crawled out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He heard staccato semiautomatic gunfire erupt on the floor above.

Blood oozed out through multiple bullet wounds on Sandra’s body. Her unseeing, open eyes looked peaceful. She had taken the brunt of the AK-47 rounds. Her bed was closest to the window. Santi knew that she was gone. He felt sad, sick, and mad. His heart pounded in increasing fury.

“Zulu!”

Santi ran and jumped through the broken window, landing in a roll. Zulu followed. He saw a dark figure turning around. Santi shot him twice, one in the chest and again in the head.

Zulu jumped over Santi and lunged at another man who was coming up behind him and raising his assault rifle. Zulu went for the gunman’s throat. The man fired wildly, missing his target. Santi heard a growl and a scream.

Zulu was shaking his massive head. The raised hair along his ridge made him look huge and menacing. He had his man pinned down by the throat. Zulu’s head came up with a jerk, with something red in his enormous jaws. The man made a wheezing sound and stopped moving.

Santi looked down at the man he had just shot. Threads of smoke rose from the bullet hole in his head as blood trickled out. He was one of the men who had just shot Sandra. His open eyes gazed at Santi, who relished the thought that the last thing the assassin had seen before dying was his face.

Santi heard noises below. He was about to jump off the balcony to the level beneath when he heard somebody land softly close to him. He was turning abruptly with his firearm at the ready when he heard Caleb say, “Hey, it’s me.”

“How is Charlie?” asked Santi.

“Very fucking pissed. We just took out two guys who shot our bedroom to kingdom come.”

Charlie came noiselessly down the stairs and whispered, “Everything clear upstairs! How about here?”

“Valentina is OK; Sandra is dead,” said Santi. “There’s somebody below. I don’t know how many.”

“I’ll take the stairs,” said Charlie. “You two jump off the balcony. We’ll take them in ten.” He silently moved toward the stairs.

Santi counted ten seconds and then looked at Caleb. Both jumped down at the same time.

It was a clear night with a full moon.

There were two men armed with the weapon of choice for Mexican assassins,
cuernos de chivo
(goat horns, AK-47s). One was slim and tall and wore a loose blue shirt, and the other was a short, pot-bellied man in a white shirt.

The slim, tall man heard Santi and Caleb land, and he turned and fired. The short, pot-bellied man rallied as well. The shots flew high. Santi and Caleb took cover behind the support pillars. The men fired again, and a fusillade of bullets slammed into the pillars.

As they were firing, Charlie came down the stairs behind the shooters. He shot twice, a bullet in the head of each man. The men were dead before they hit the ground.

Charlie was good.

Santi said, coming out from behind the pillar, “There were six in total, two per level. They were not leaving anything to chance. The four I saw looked Mexican. They had to have come from the sea. I’m sure somebody is waiting for them in a boat by the jetty. Charlie and I will go down to deal with whoever is waiting for them, while you, Caleb, stay here and check on Valentina.”

Caleb said, “That is a good idea, but I have a better one. You stay here and look after Valentina while Charlie and I go down.”

Without waiting for a response, Charlie said, “Fine. Let’s do it.”

Charlie and Caleb climbed rapidly down the stairs toward the jetty. Santi squatted and checked the pockets of the two men. He took out their wallets. They were both municipal police. Santi thought, Oh, shit! Nicanor Toro’s cartel has penetrated deep into local law enforcement.

He went up to his floor and checked the wallets of the two dead men. They were also local police officers.

Zulu was looking at him and wagging his tail. Santi said, “What’s wrong, boy?”

Santi stood up and went to Valentina’s room. He went to the bathroom and walked her to his bedroom. He placed her down on his bed, and when he tried to caress her head, she flinched and shrank away from his touch. She had been crying.

Santi said, “I am sorry that you had to go through this again. I promise you this is the last time.”

Valentina was quietly staring at him.

Santi said, “Go to sleep, my darling. You are safe now. Let me check on Charlie and Caleb, and I will be back shortly.”

Santi covered Valentina with the sheet and walked to the next room. He went to Sandra and closed her eyelids. As Santi kissed her forehead, he said, “Thanks for everything you have done for my mother and me. Good-bye, my dear
madrina
. I hope you’re now with your beloved son.”

He stood up and walked out of the room.

Zulu had not moved. He saw Santi and started wagging his tail. Santi approached Zulu, saying, “What’s wrong with you, boy?” He squatted next to Zulu. The dog licked his face.

“Yeah, boy. I love you too.”

He started patting and touching Zulu. A bullet had passed through his left leg and buried itself in the abdominal area. The wild shot meant for Santi had hit Zulu. He had saved Santi’s life.

A solid black wave of anger assaulted Santi’s brain. He had lost Sandra, and now he was losing Zulu. The dog that had adopted him. The dog that had brought him back from the darkness of the beach. The dog that had just taken a bullet for him.

At that moment, Santi heard noise from below. He rapidly stood up with murder in his eyes. He was about to take the stairs down when he glimpsed Charlie and Caleb bringing up a bloodied man. Santi recognized him as the prosecutor who had taken their report at the police station eight days ago.

Santi lost it. He couldn’t control himself and threw a killer straight right aimed square into the center of the prosecutor’s face. Charlie and Caleb managed to grab Santi’s arm, but not soon enough to prevent the fist from landing. The prosecutor’s face exploded in blood, spit, and mucus. The nose was completely flattened. If Charlie and Caleb had not slowed down Santi’s strike, the strike would have surely killed the man.

Charlie and Caleb pushed Santi back, saying as they did so, “Stop it! We need to find out what he knows.”

Santi looked at them and said, “OK, you do that. I have to get Zulu to a hospital. He was shot, but he is still alive.”

Charlie said, “Fine, but put something on. You look like a madman in your underwear and your bleeding feet. Don’t forget to take money and your cell phone.”

“Where is Valentina?”

Santi responded, “Lying down on my bed.”

Santi went to his room and ran water on his feet. He didn’t feel the pain, but he had stepped on the window glass shards. He put on shorts, a guayabera, and flip-flops. He put his gun in his shorts pocket and took his wallet and phone. He went out and tenderly carried Zulu up the stairs and into the CR-V.

A doctor for my friend

He drove fast but carefully to Caleta’s general hospital. He parked at the emergency entrance and carried Zulu in.

He saw a nurse and asked her for a doctor. She said, “What do you need him for?”

Santi responded, “I need him to take care of my best friend, who has just been shot. Please, don’t make me waste my time. Where is the doctor?”

The nurse looked at him and said, “Is the dog the friend you are talking about?”

Santi just looked at her, took his gun out, pointed it at her, and said, “Where is the doctor? I am not going to repeat myself.”

The nurse turned pale as a white bedsheet and said, “Through that door,” pointing at the door at the end of the hall.

Santi ran with Zulu in his arms to the end of the hall and opened the door.

He saw a few empty beds and a young doctor in his late twenties or early thirties talking to a nurse. Santi walked up to him and said, “Doctor, I need you to take care of my dog. He just took a bullet aimed at me. I don’t have time to locate and wake up a veterinarian. Will you please help me?”

The doctor looked at Santi. After a pause, he said, with caring eyes, “That looks like a nice dog. Bring him over here. Put him on this gurney. Maria,” he said to the nurse he had been talking to, “go to the reception desk and tell Lupe not to call anybody. We haven’t seen this man nor his dog. Do we understand each other?”

The nurse said, “Yes, Doctor, I understand. I’ll be back shortly to assist.” She turned and ran out of the emergency room.

Santi said, “You don’t know how much I appreciate this.”

“Thank me later. First, let’s take care of your friend here. What is his name?”

Santi said, “Zulu.”

The nurse came back in and started to prepare the room. The doctor washed his hands in disinfectant gel from a dispenser affixed to a column, snapped on gloves, and injected Zulu with a general anesthetic. In no time, Zulu was out, looking drunk, with his long tongue hanging sideways out of his jaws. Then the doctor began the process of shaving, cleaning, and disinfecting the areas around the wounds.

Santi watched the whole procedure. It took an hour. The doctor managed to extract the bullet and repair the internal damage.

Once Zulu was sutured and bandaged, the doctor said, “It was a good thing you brought him when you did. Ten more minutes, and he would have been in dog heaven. The bullet perforated his stomach, and he was bleeding internally.

“In a month, he should be fine. The bullet took some muscle mass out of his thigh, so he might end up with a limp.

“Clean the leg and stomach areas once a week. Put elastic compression bandages tight around the stomach. After three weeks, remove the stitches. Or call me, and I will go to your house and do it for you.”

“Doctor, thank you so much! How much do I owe you?” Santi took out his wallet.

The doctor waved him away and said, “Forget about it. I love dogs, and this dog is a hero. It was an honor to treat him.

“By the way, my name is Willebaldo Goyeneche. Here’s my card. Call me if there are any complications, and I will go to your home.”

As he shook the doctor’s hand, Santi said, “I am Santiago Carrasco. Thank you very much. You just made two friends for life.” He shook the doctor’s hand again.

Santi turned around and said to the nurse, “Would you please let me pay for your assistance?”

The nurse said, “If the doctor will not accept payment from you, how can I? No, keep your money. I like dogs too. And forget about Lupe in reception. She’s not a dog person; she’s more into cats.”

“And scratching…” added the doctor.

They both chuckled.

The doctor went over to the supply cabinet and took out some wound-dressing pads, antibiotic ointment, compression bandages, and a bottle of antibiotics. “Don’t change the current bandage for at least twenty-four hours, except if you see bleeding. Then disinfect the wound and apply the compression bandages. Confine him to a place where he cannot move too much, and absolutely no jumping. Here are some antibiotics also. Give him one every eight hours for seven days, starting tomorrow. He’s covered for tonight because I gave him an antibiotic injection. Make sure that he drinks lots of water, and give him chicken soup with rice for the first few days. He may not want to eat the first day or so, but he has to drink liquids. Force them down his throat if you have to. Give him extra vitamins and probiotics to help him heal faster.”