You are Mine (7 page)

He slipped his hand under her chin and
lifted her face from his chest. She bared her teeth at him, but
could see he still thought this was great fun. “Oh, come, Esencia,
just one kiss,” he coaxed and transferring his hands to the sides
of her face, bent his head.

Resigned, Essence let him kiss her, but bit
his bottom lip and then murmured, “Your murder will be a slow one,”
against his mouth.

Rafe laughed out loud and threw an arm
around her shoulder. He kissed her temple and whispered, “So you
like it rough, too, eh?”

Essence could only laugh and shake her
head.

His arm still around her shoulders, Rafe
herded her towards the exit. “We will see you later,
tio
,”
he said as they came abreast of Miguel.

Miguel inclined his head. “Goodbye,
sobrino
.
Senorita
Thompson.”

“Goodbye, Senor Guerrera.” She felt his gaze
on her as they left and wondered if he were suspicious of her. It
wasn’t the first time, and she wish she knew his intent. His gaze
didn’t feel menacing, just assessing. If it were threatening, at
least she’d know where she stood, but as it was, his studying of
her could mean any number of things.

“Why does your uncle call you that name, uh,
so-sobrono,
I think it was?” She asked Rafe once they were
in the car. Another deception. She actually spoke Spanish fluently,
that and three other languages besides English.

“No, it’s
sobrino
,” Rafe corrected as
he took a right turn. “It simply means ‘nephew’.”

“Oh. Well, you didn’t exaggerate, Rafe. This
certainly is paradise. And your family’s compound! My goodness,
it’s massive!”

Rafe’s smirk was nothing less than cynical.
“Yes, well, you can afford massive when you make more than a
billion dollars a year.”

“I know you don’t like that your uncles are
into drug smuggling, Rafe, but if you hate it so much, why do you
stay in contact?” Of course she’d already known, but he’d told her
about the family business when he’d first proposed her coming to
the compound with him, telling her that he wanted her to have all
the facts before she made up her mind. He promised her that she’d
be safe because his uncles didn’t work out of the Puerto Peñasco
house. It was purportedly used strictly for relaxation and
pleasure.

“I stay in contact because this is family. I
was taught that you don’t turn your back on family, no matter what
they do. And besides, I love them. I can’t just walk away.”

“I understand, and I’m sorry.” She paused,
really hating herself, but she had a job to do. “Are all of your
uncles involved in the family business?”

“Well, I only have three, and yes, they’re
all involved. As are most of my male cousins, of which I have
legion. It’s just so hard, you know? I love them, but I know they
are doing such wrong in the world. They know it, too, of course,
but it either doesn’t faze them or they justify it by saying the
family needed to get into the business in order to feed
itself.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, how did your
family actually get into the business?”

Rafe winced, but began his story. “It’s not
pretty. In the seventies, my uncle Francesco lost his job as a
janitor and couldn’t find another one. He came up with the idea to
plant marijuana in these empty fields. Pretty soon, he brought my
uncles in on it and they started buying farms, which they turned
into what they call marijuana cultivation centers.” He took his
eyes off the road briefly to look at her. “You know what those
are?”

She shrugged. “I can guess. Go on.”

“Okay, so the cultivation centers proved to
be a huge success, as you can imagine. From there, they hooked up
with one of the country’s biggest cocaine exporters and they formed
the Guerrera Cartel. Through the cocaine guy, they became one of
the first cartels to begin shipping cocaine in from Columbia. There
are operations in the states of Jalisco, Durango, Hidalgo,
etcetera, etcetera. And there you have it my dear: my family’s
sordid story.”

“Wow. And they make most of their money by
smuggling it into the U.S.?”

“Yes.”

“But how?”

Rafe shrugged. “I don’t know the hows and
the wheretos. I just know they do it. I try to know as few details
as possible about current operations. What I just gave you is
background, family history.”

“I’m sorry I upset you, Rafe,” she said
sincerely. “I hope you can forgive my curiosity.”

“Certainly. I’d be curious too if I were
you.”

“What will you do if they demand that you
join them in the family business?” she asked.

He winced. “Oh, I’m getting more pressure
from that direction already. In fact, I have a suspicion that this
trip they will try to reel me in. I think I can no longer use
school as an excuse.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well before, I would just beg off by saying
I couldn’t because school was much too important. That excuse will
no longer work. I already have two Master degrees. My uncles backed
off, but barely.”

Essence rubbed his arm in sympathy. “I’m
sorry,” she said. “PhD?”

“No. They will not accept that; especially
now that
Tio
Francesco has been arrested. They want all the
family together.”

“And you said he was arrested in Arizona,
right?” When he nodded, she continued, “What will you do?”

“I don’t know. I don’t want to give up my
family, but my conscience will not allow me to do such evil work,
either. However,
Tio
Miguel is likely to cut me off without
a cent if I don’t obey.”

“Well, Rafe, you’re twenty-six and have two
degrees. You could make a fine living on your own.”

“Yes, but I would not be able to live in the
manner to which I’m accustomed, and for me, that is key.”

Essence shook her head, but only said, “Then
try hocking some of those fabulous designs of yours you showed me.
Get them in front of the right people, and you could probably make
a mint.”

Rafe’s chuckle held no amusement. “Oh, that
would never do, Esencia. I am a Guerrera, and I could never sully
the family name with such a feminine profession. Do you know why I
majored in Spanish and history in college and not fashion design?
Because not only would I have been cut off from the family and the
family’s money if I had, but they likely would have hurt me very
badly and dragged me back to Mexico. So, I took my required courses
and sneaked in sewing classes and fashion merchandising classes
whenever I had an opportunity.”

“Would they really have, Rafe? Hurt you, I
mean?” she asked sadly.

“Yes, I have no doubt that they would
have.”

Essence mulled this over in her head,
wondering how she could help him in some way. She modeled some
herself under her real name, but primarily in Europe and Japan.
Rafe had no idea that she modeled, and that she had contacts with
designers. The fact that they were European would probably work
better for him. She filed that away for later and decided to talk
to her handler about it.

She sat back in her seat. Of course the
agency knew how the cocaine was being smuggled into the States.
They just didn’t know exactly where. They’d find one tunnel and it
would be shut down, only to have another one or two or twelve crop
up elsewhere. She was there to get as much information as she
could, the kind of information that they could parlay into a
conviction and perhaps a dismantling of all operations. The agency
believed that they were smuggling the drugs through a system of
ranches along the Mexico/U.S. border, but had been unsuccessful in
finding any of those places.

It was a complex and clever operation, she
knew. Yes, they’d caught the oldest brother, Francesco, but that
had been through sheer luck. A sheriff in the small Arizona border
town of McArthur was nervous about illegal border crossings and was
ever diligent in driving along the border his town shared with
Mexico. One particular night, he’d seen a man, or as he’d stated,
“a big Mex walkin’ along all suspicious-like.”

The sheriff had stopped him and asked him
where he was going and what he was doing. When the Mexican man had
said he was visiting his daughter and was just out for a walk, the
sheriff had decided to take him in just to be on the safe side. The
Mexican man had turned out to be Francesco Guerrera, a big fish on
the Drug Enforcement Agency’s most wanted list. The sheriff didn’t
know who he had on his hands and just tossed Guerrera in a cell
after he’d asked for ID and Guerrera couldn’t produce any.

Francesco Guerrera, a man with a million
dollar bounty on his head and who was wanted for suspicion in the
killing of a DEA agent, had spent the night in a two-celled
jailhouse, been served coffee and bacon and eggs the next morning
and was about to be sent on his way by the clueless sheriff when
his deputy reported for his shift and recognized him.

All hell had broken loose then, and the DEA
had swooped in and grabbed him. And now Francesco Guerrera found
himself an unwilling guest of the federal government of the United
States. But they still didn’t know any more now than they did
before he’d been captured. Essence sighed. She didn’t work for the
DEA, not exactly. Her agency was run by a collective from the
alphabet soup of agencies the United States called its intelligence
community. She supposed she liked her job. She’d certainly been
training for it her entire life, anyway. And that of course was an
accident. She was what you got when a disillusioned former female
member of the American Black Power Movement married and reproduced
with an Iranian-American dissident who could trace his family’s
roots all the way back to the Lasiqs of the Order of the Assassins,
an order founded in the eleventh century.

She adjusted her seatbelt and thought about
exactly what she’d tell her boss when she reported in today. And
then she smiled, as an idea took root and began to flourish. It was
less than he deserved, she thought, for being such an all-knowing
butt head who had tried to convince the agency not to recruit her.
Yes, she knew he had. He’d taken pleasure in telling her that
almost every single day of her training. She snickered softly.
Oh, yes. Captain Blowhard is in for a surprise.

COOP found himself wishing he could somehow
reach through the phone and wring her long, graceful neck.
“Paragon,” he tried to say calmly. “If you move your skinny butt
from Sonora even one second before you have permission to do so, I
will personally come down there – ”

“Oh, calm down, boss man,” Essence crooned
into the phone. “The risk would be minimal, and I’d be really
careful, I promise.”

“No. Absolutely not, and that’s final.”

“All right,” Essence said sulkily, “if you
say so. But I don’t see why you even sent me on this mission if you
don’t think I’m up to doing a little reconnaissance.”

Coop felt guilt creep in and snapped, “It’s
not that at all, and you know it. There’s been no preparation for
you to go to any other state but Sonora. Their operations in other
states are off-limits for now until we can get more information and
do a proper set-up. Besides, who says this Rafael kid even knows
what he’s talking about? And even if he did, how on earth would you
convince him to take you?”

“Oh, you’re right,” she responded silkily,
“I guess I should have thought of that myself. You’re so
smart.”

And that’s when Coop knew he’d been had. “Be
glad you’re not here, Paragon, because if you were –”

“Yes, well, you can’t always get what you
want, can you?” she crowed. “Anyway, back to business. I know he’s
not our target, but Alexander Brickman is due to arrive next week.
He will apparently be bringing an entourage. If I have more to
tell, you’ll find out on tomorrow night’s call. Toodles.”

***

IDA Martinez glanced at Alexander Brickman,
who was smiling happily. This made her avert her eyes. A genuine
smile from him was unusual and threw her off center. She had no
idea how to address it, so she said nothing. Brickman had been her
lover for almost two years and never in all that time had she
gotten a smile born of simple joy from him. Threatening ones, angry
ones, vicious ones, those she was used to, and knew what to do.

Her brain would not compute this for her, no
matter how she tried and again, off-balanced, she eased into one of
the plush chairs in his office. She knew why he was happy, of
course. She’d just told him that she was pregnant. She’d expected
him to throw money at her and demand that she find someone to
perform an abortion. But that hadn’t been his response at all. He
was thrilled, and even now was talking about plans for nurseries on
all of his properties. She tuned him out.

She supposed she should have realized that
his enormous ego would allow him nothing less than happiness at the
thought of bringing a child into the world. He’d see the child as
the beginning of a dynasty. Any child he created would be his
legacy, and he’d expect that child to follow directly in his
footsteps.

She had no idea what she was going to do.
She did not want to raise a child with Alexander Brickman. As much
as she loved the lifestyle he afforded her, she felt it would be
wrong to bring a child into things as they were. She’d walked into
her relationship with Brickman with her eyes wide open, so she’d
known exactly what she was getting into. She’d even worked for him
at one point, selling drugs in the office building where she’d once
worked as an office manager.

Ida frowned. At that time in her life, she’d
been in love with Brian Keenan whom she’d once dated. The three of
them -- Brian, Caroline and she -- had worked for an integrated
marketing firm Brian and three of his friends had started. She’d
been jealous of his new relationship with Caroline, and her grand
scheme had been to use her relationship with Brickman to win Brian
back. She’d known that Brickman had wanted Caroline, and she’d done
everything she could to keep him from finding her because she’d
wanted to protect Brian who she knew would play the hero and try to
keep Caroline safe.