 
Special Smashwords Edition

Dark Aims

by

JOHNNY DELCA

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Dark Aims

Special Smashwords Edition

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Copyright © 2013 Juan Diego Del Castillo De Obeso. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without the express written permission of the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

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ISBN: 978-1-939337-32-0 (eBook)

Version 2013.02.12

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A RAINY DAY THREE YEARS LATER...

About the Author

"All warfare is based on deception."

–Sun Tzu, "The Art of War"

"All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing."

–Edmund Burke

Dark Aims

Prologue

SANTA CATARINA

LOXICHA REGION, OAXACA, MEXICO

NOVEMBER 25, 2014

The five thousand Zapotec inhabitants still dressed in humble white and red in respectful observance of their ancestral ways, devotedly congregating every Sunday in the town's church, a baroque colonial structure whose towers rise higher amongst the rest of the town's humble tile-roofed houses.

The tiny old town sits high in the Oaxacan section of the Sierra Madre Mountains. At times, it seemed to have disappeared through the low clouds. If it were not for the vivid-color houses and the impressive array of exotic flowers displayed by the trees and plants that the Mexican tropical forest provided in its colorful embrace of the town, the town might very well have been erased altogether from the beautiful landscape of Oaxaca's Loxicha region.

It was a special day for the little town. It was the yearly party in honor of the town's patron saint. A tradition honored for centuries.

Dancers performed their dancing rituals, elegantly dressed for the occasion, for the multitude and the church's Catholic priest, who observed solemnly the fruits of a long ceremonial preparation.

Fireworks and music inundated the environment as the town women wore their best clothes along with their perfumed hair, adorned by vivid, colorful flowers. The town's big fiesta was turning out just fine, perhaps even better than many in the past.

Ritual dancers got their main act ready: a dangerous dance involving fire and chains was about to be performed. But, suddenly, the music stopped. It was all briskly interrupted, people glanced at each other in discomfort.

Music and laughter had come to a sudden halt.

The sound and recoil of a distant explosion was clearly heard and felt in the town as its shock waves agitated the earth beneath the town to the awe and fright of the people.

Had it been an earthquake, the Zapotecs would have known; they were used to them. It was something different this time. Had they provoked God's wrath?

The priest begged for calm.

They saw the black smoke spiraling up into the skies. No divine power at all. The huge explosion was provoked by the deeds of men.

The huge column of black smoke rose miles away from the old mining zone behind the mountains. The black smoke spread in the skies, reaching well into the clouds just miles away from them.

Perhaps the scariest fact was that the explosion came from the old Ura-Mex Uranium mining zone, formerly known as Elvira II and long thought abandoned ever since the Mexican Government officially shut down the nuclear program once started by the extinguished Comisión Mexicana del Espacio Exterior (CONE) just after the signing of the Treaty of Tlatelolco, in which Mexico surrendered its advanced space rockets program to the United States.

Previous to that, the Mexican Space Program successfully produced an Intercontinental ballistic missile with nuclear bearing capabilities.

The high-tech Uranium enrichment facilities once developed under the extinct program remained functional for peaceful purposes only but, Uranium mining however, had been brought almost to a halt as Mexico's nuclear energy plants required only small amounts.

Not far from the town, in the mine, Mexican army vehicles and soldiers protected the perimeter as excavators and bulldozers kept digging around the dark soiled extension of the enclosed Elvira II. People, dressed in white robes, rushed around picking samples from the soil that had been removed.

The Elvira II Uranium mine looked quite busy again, just like in the old times.

"You blew it, Manuel!" Victor shouted enraged as he marched quickly towards the excavator Manuel was operating.

"Hey! Tell those assholes not to put the explosives on the shaft yet! Fuck this, Victor! We are not supposed to be here in the first place!" Manuel shouted, frustrated from the excavator's cabin when their conversation was suddenly interrupted by Victor's radio device.

"Twenty four over, twenty four, do you copy? Over," the voice in the radio urged.

"This is twenty four, over." Victor responded.

"Sir, we just found something you'd better see, over."

"Roger that. I'm on my way."

The explosion popped up a huge rock that lied in pieces on the plain surface as the technicians inspected every piece of the founding with mineral scanning devices, taking samples with little drills, putting them in plastic bags to analyze the rock properties later.

Victor walked around the scene like a vulture, inspecting the discovery. He approached one of the staffers performing a sample check on a machine.

"So what is it exactly all about?" Victor asked intrigued.

"Sir, it's almost all Uranium ore, so far I believe it's the best quality I've ever seen, the concentration is bigger and vastly more abundant that the ones in Reynosa or even the ones in Canada! It would make any process run swiftly." The technician responded excited.

"Jackpot! The guys in Geneva will be glad and they'll pay us handsomely for this!" Victor bragged out gladly.

He reached for his pocket and took out a satellite cell phone device punching the keys until the phone got communication, then dialed a cell phone number and waited impatiently for somebody to answer. He didn't have to wait more than a few seconds, the call was quickly answered.

"Señor! We have excellent news." Victor informed notably excited.

"Bueno. Have you sent the results to the e-mail address I gave you?" A deep male voice responded with a thick French accent sounding clearly unexcited, detached as if he couldn't have cared less.

"Yes sir. Everything is now on file as you instructed"

"Good. Tell General Ortega you are ready to leave and move fast" The voice instructed coldly.

"Understood sir." Victor responded, disconcerted about the lack of enthusiasm he just perceived from Mr. Gala, whom he knew only by voice. Perhaps, that was not even his real name, how could he know? The man has paid big money, financing all the scientific expedition, clearing the path and providing protection for him and his team. That was all he cared about, all he needed to be certain about. The voice, as he liked to think about Mr. Gala, had proven to be a serious customer, one with high-level political connections. A powerful man, no doubt. And he had been serious, serious as money. Besides, he had yet to pay the biggest part.

"Mister Gala, about our deal...?" Victor inquired greedily.

"You will be paid handsomely for this Victor, just as we agreed."

The call ended and Victor shouted instructions to his staff "Mission accomplished. Now, Let's pack our shit, people. We are leaving. Be quick!"

A dark and tall man approached Victor from behind. He was a corpulent man with wide shoulders and a tough pair of black eyes with exaggerated features. He wore a military uniform, a high-ranking officer one.

"General Ortega, Mr. Gala told me we have to leave now." Victor uttered turning to the dark figure, now standing by his side.

"Then we have to go Mister Engineer. Is your team ready?" General Ortega asked Victor, who nodded.

"Tell them to board the jeeps we have arranged for you. We'll handle the gear and the excavators." General Ortega assumed control.

"But the gear is quite expensive general. My people know how to handle it best." Victor objected, feeling something wrong.

"Do as I say Mr. Engineer. It is my decision. Now, tell your people to board the jeeps." General Ortega raised his tone making it an order. Victor's objections just annoyed him.

Soldiers surrounded Victor's technical staff. Victor looked disconcerted and worried at the general, surprised by the sudden hostile attitude Ortega's men were showing. The staff didn't move, waiting nervously for Victor's instructions.

"It's up to you Victor, we can always do it the hard way," the general threatened.

"Y... yes General," Victor muttered, looking pale. The situation just turned way south and he was now sure it couldn't be for good. Panic was taking over. He felt cold sweat streaming down his forehead and his hands started to shake.

Just seconds later, General Ortega took out his gun with a swift expert movement and pointed it directly at Victor's forehead. Victor froze in the spot. The sound of the handgun detonation echoed on the nearby rock walls. Victor fell lifeless, with a shot in his head.

"I've always preferred the hard way," the General smiled.

Seconds later, the rest of the soldiers opened fire against Victor's staff killing them almost instantly under the satisfied gaze of the general.

The echo of the constant detonations stopped moments later.

Some soldiers piled the dead bodies on the vehicles while others collected the remaining gear.

Suddenly, the sound of a cell phone ringing broke the silence. The sound came from one of the pockets of Victor's jacket.

General Ortega bent over and turned the corpse over. It was still spilling blood from the head's exit wound. He checked and found the phone device on one of the dead man's pockets. He grabbed the phone and answered it. The same French guy talked on the phone.

"Victor?" the voice asked.

"There is no more Victor," responded General Ortega.

"That was not part of our deal, General. You were supposed to..." the voice protested in disapproval.

"I am changing our agreement. Go fuck somewhere else. I already got your money," said Ortega in a defying tone, bragging about the situation, daring the guy on the phone.

A moment of tense silence arose...

"You know General, we have other methods... you messed with the wrong party," said the voice in a deadly calm and serious tone, unimpressed by General Ortega's boldness.

"You will never get the Uranium!" General Ortega shouted back.

"Really...? We shall see about that General; remember, everything is for sale in that country of yours, you will soon find yourself working for us...

"One way or the other..."

1.

THE PRESIDENTIAL PALACE

MEXICO CITY, SEPTEMBER 19, 2026

That early autumn morning, the Aztec God of Sun woke up in a bad mood, Huitzilopochtli punished Mexico City with suffocating heat making the locals endure just one more hardship on their daily fight to make their bread and butter.

That was certainly not the case of Antonio Cazador, the Spanish business tycoon on his visit to the Mexican Presidential Palace. In all his previous visits to Mexico, he avoided mixing with Mexican locals as much as possible and this time it wouldn't be different.

The Spanish unofficially ruled over the Mexican economy once again just like it was centuries ago when Capt. Hernan Cortez with the aid of rogue Indian tribes subdued the mighty Aztec emperor with less than six hundred Spanish soldiers.

Many centuries later, history repeated itself. As a bunch of Spanish companies colluded with corrupt Mexican politicians have taken over the country key economic sectors.

Having cruised Mexico City and the security perimeter, the time shown by the golden watch around his wrist indicated precisely eight thirty a.m. and in front of him, the gates of the Official Presidential Residence were opening. He glanced at his watch nervously.

Slowly, the black van of Antonio started to move, motioning towards the main entrance of the Official Residence, just meters away.

He watched patiently from the back seat, his gaze fixated at the main entrance where he was supposed to get out of the vehicle to meet the president's private secretary, who was already waiting for him just near there. The secretary was on time, just like he expected.

Don Antonio was a handsome fifty-year old business man, 6¨1 height and elegant features framed by an impeccable white hair. An athletic man thanks to professional squash played back in his youth years in his native Galicia, Spain, where his family was counted among the founders of the Galicia Sporting Club, a privileged social status even amongst wealthy Spanish business families.

Still in his prime years, his advance in the international corporate world had been astonishing. Grupo CAZA S.A. has expanded well beyond the initial business lines, now controlling, directly or indirectly, a wide portfolio of more than thirty enterprises in more than fourteen countries in which banking and energy services where the most prominent and lucrative of them all. Success has efficiently silenced all corruption accusations involving his enterprises.

Don Antonio slowly stepped out of the van as one the bodyguards opened the door. The president's secretary waited for him to get close enough for a handshake. The sun glared clearly in the skies above; the day was warm but clear and perfect.

"Hello, good morning, Mister Secretary" Don Antonio pronounced with his marked Spanish accent.

"How was your trip, Don Antonio?" the secretary offered a discrete complicity smile as they shook hands as if they were close friends; nothing could be further from the truth.

"Everything was okay. You are most kind for asking!"

"The president is expecting us."

"The president is on a tight schedule, so please walk with me to his office." the Secretary was a very short and tanned man, elegantly dressed in an expensive combination of leather and hand tailored Italian silk. No doubt, the secretary was a loyal servant to the president. There was reverence in the Secretary words every time he mentioned the president.

"All right, let's go." said Antonio with sufficiency as if he had been through it all a hundred times before, although this would be his first time. He knew well how unwise it would be to show weakness in situations like this. Just like the matador keeps a steady hand on the blade before slicing it through the bull's flesh, he would maintain a steady hand to rip his price.

They reached the presidential ant chamber, an extremely elegant place, a mix of white tall marble walls and fine exotic woods. The living room was decorated with furniture imported directly from Italy's finest stores. Once there, Don Antonio was asked to wait under the vigilant sight of two perfectly olive green uniformed military guards from the Presidential Guards, Mexico's presidential guard conformed by the finest men of the Mexican army devoted to the security of the President. Both men stood still as if they were statues on each side of the corridor, both carrying large guns over their shoulders, their standing so tight and silent it felt as if they were not there even though a large number of them permanently watch every square meter of The Presidential Palace perimeter, the biggest safe house in the country. The secretary entered the office leaving Antonio behind.

Don Antonio could barely hear that the president was having a heated conversation in his office.

Don Antonio was not feeling nervous at all, he was more expectant than anything. The truth is that he knew the president very little. Perhaps, he had walked meters away from him in conferences or public appearances in the near past, but he couldn't remember crossing a word with him. A fact that made him feel a little uneasy.

President Trujillo was known to be a strong tempered man, not somebody who could be pushover easily and certainly not the type to manipulate easily.

Moments later, the office door cracked open letting the short tanned secretary out of the room. He walked a straight line to Don Antonio. He was sat waiting in one of the fine couches.

"The president will see you now." the secretary enunciated almost solemnly. Antonio grabbed his briefcase and stood up gently off the couch.

Finally, the time has come.

Inside the big office there was an impressive round table, made of fine wood to the very last detail. Presiding the table, on a big back letter chair, was the president in an impeccable black suit and wearing a red tie.

Two secretaries, the Secretary of Energy and the Secretary of Economy had been briefing the president on the matter for probably an hour or two before the appointment. The president was known to be an early bird with big ears and he certainly liked to honor that reputation. The president pointed at a chair for Don Antonio to sit down exactly at the other side of the table, right in front of him. At first, nobody said a word. None of the secretaries dared to speak before the intimidating president.

"Welcome Don Antonio, I am glad you are here with us," said the president trying to make Don Antonio feel comfortable.

"It's an honor to be here Mister President..."

"Don Antonio, we haven't met before but you must know I have been following the deal very closely, and I am aware of all the details regarding it." The president's eyes fixated on Antonio as to emphasize his words.

"I'll leave you with these two gentlemen you already know to close the deal. I must remind you of our agreement. I must warn you!" He pointed, in a threatening way.

"I'll be leaving shortly. You'll have to excuse me, I'm on a tight schedule." The president tried to be polite. He didn't try too hard.

"Yes, Mister President I am a man of my word and a true unconditional friend of yours and your party, I have proved it before and will prove it again," added Don Antonio feeling like a cornered prey, he found himself uneasy in such position.

"I am counting on that, Don Antonio, for your own sake." The President put on a fake smile. He kept on "All I can say is congratulations. You have become a very powerful man, you must be very proud of yourself."

"I am honored, Mister President..." He repeated.

The president left the office without further words. The two secretaries came to life after the president left the room.

"Very well, Antonio," said the Secretary of Energy with relief once the president left.

"Have you reviewed what we agreed on?" asked the Secretary of Economy intrigued.

"Yes, indeed, everything is ready. The money is going to be put into an offshore account in the great Caiman Island, 10% of all profits made by as a result of the contract. The account will be under the name of CAZA-Guajardo venture funds international. The façade company is registered in Switzerland, it's untraceable, My lawyers made sure of that." explained Don Antonio, reaching for his briefcase.

He took out a folder containing account papers and legal documentation. Also, there was a small electronic device that looked like a cell phone.

"These are the papers containing the info about the façade enterprise and the initial funds, 20 million American dollars upfront. The rest, once we are granted the contract. This little electronic device is an encrypted electronic password. Nobody can access or make any movement on the account without this."

Then he handed over the folder with the papers and the device to the Secretary of Energy.

There was a thick silence as the secretary looked at the papers and examined the device.

"Good, Antonio. Everything seems ok."

"You will have to prepare as soon as possible a complete technical justification for the press. I strongly suggest you do it rather quickly." The Secretary of Energy emphasized.

The Secretary of Economy cut into the conversation.

"The president will meet the Spanish ambassador next week at their regular meeting. They will discuss how to announce the deal after it is done. Have you planned how the money will be transferred to the offshore account?"

"Yes, it will appear in the books as interest paid to a financial entity. We will make a ghost loan from the façade company to put it into the liabilities section, our financial department and legal team has already worked through it. It will be quite simple since our company is privately held."

"Perfect, it seems you have all figured out, Don Antonio." The two men smiled. They were already counting the money in their heads.

"Indeed I have, you have nothing to worry about, just make sure the contract assignation goes well."

"You have the president's word. We know how to handle things like this. Do not worry about it."

The Secretary of Economy popped open a water bottle and took a deep sip from it, as if he was tasting the juicy deal he had just closed. They all stood up, no further questions made. Grupo CAZA S.A. was now becoming a major powerhouse in the Mexican energy sector, making Don Antonio one of the most powerful men in Mexico's business and politics.

The state energy company had become a tragic example of scandal and corruption, from being one of the top ranking companies in Latin America, it has dramatically fallen into the ranks by the hand of corrupt syndicate leaders and greedy politicians. It became a huge wounded whale in the ocean, bleeding, just waiting for the sharks to have a feast out of it, tearing it apart piece by piece.

With the agreement, Grupo CAZA would control all the transportation and storage services nationwide for the state energy company, putting itself into an advantageous position to control Petroleum liquefied Gas distribution and install a huge network of gas stations all around the country as well. Soon, no part of the country would be out of their reach and they would have decisive influence in a business worth billions of dollars a year.

Don Antonio left the Presidential Residence with a big smile on his face.

The helicopter took off, his vehicle of choice for security reasons. He left the black SUV for his Mexican advisors to move along. Both vehicles now headed to the Benito Juarez International airport. His destination: Barajas International Airport in Madrid.

Ring, ring—his cell phone urged an answer. The unexpected incoming call took him by surprise as the helicopter cruised Mexico City skies on the way to the airport. The Periferico Avenue stretched below them.

"Hello?..." "Hello? Antonio?" a nervous unclear voice could be heard through the phone. How could somebody know this number? Puzzled, he demanded an answer. "Yes. Who is this?" but no answer...

... KaBang! was heard loudly after a missile impacted the black SUV, making the pavement of Periferico Avenue tumble with the shockwave as a furious blaze of fire wrapped the black van, throwing it violently into the air with such force that it made it look as if it was a toy kicked up by an angry kid.

The furious blaze finally spit a bunch of burned tires and twisted metals when it digested the van with everybody in it, leaving just a dark pile of smoky scrap metal and burning rubber glued to the pavement.

From a building nearby, the perpetrators watched the scene.

"It's over now. Take a look." a tall, dark man wearing a black mask insisted, pointing his finger at Periferico Ave. The view of the avenue from the roof of the Latino Tower was quite good. The weather had been clear all morning.

"It's a mess, nobody could have escaped such an explosion." "Well done Melquiades!"

"Thank you, Pedro." "I will now inform the customer." said an executive like fat man reaching for his jacket's bag.

He took a cell phone when, suddenly, a bullet struck him in the chest from behind, splashing blood into the air. The body fell lifeless on the spot. A few moments later, a spray of hot bullets took the man in the black mask by surprise before he could even make sense of what was going on.

Two tactical team policemen dressed in black reached the roof top from the service ladder. Their guns barrels were still smoking.

One of them bent over the corpses to check the pulse of the two dead men. After pressing their necks with his fingers, he nodded at the other guy.

"Both shooters dead on the spot. Inform the dispatch." The other masked man took his radio, clicked a button and reported the incident. He received an answer that could be heard by the other guy.

"Well, now Don Antonio is untouchable. He's the president's man now. This should send a clear message to their employers wherever those cockroaches hide."

"Dispatch, one of them can be positively identified. According to the biometry identity cell, his name was Alejandro Cleves and he was under investigation by the political intelligence office."

"They were already under investigation by the men of the presidency?"

"Hum, we are not sure." the voice hesitated over the radio before going back to normal.

"We'll take care of that. Leave the place at once." the communication ended. Both men left the scene leaving everything as they had found it.

"Some big shoots, right?" asked one another as they left the room.

"Maybe..."

Don Antonio's Mexican advisors died in the explosion. Expendable servants, he thought, as the helicopter arrived and slowly descended upon the airfield in the private hangar section of the airport. His plane was ready, a huge private jet with all kinds of luxuries on it to make the trip the most comfortable possible.

Don Antonio had ordered to have a provision of the finest Cuban cigars and bottles of the best rum Cuba has to offer.

Don Antonio was unscratched, a little shocked by what he had just seen, the attempted murder was directed at him.

For a brief moment, he felt cold shivers down the spine, nothing to worry about, he calmed his fears, he remembered. For the time being, he was safe...

He was a Patron...

2.

CANCUN, MEXICO

THE CARIBEAN BEACH

The ocean breeze felt all right as the wind blew gently enough, pushing away the sun heat, making it delicious to be there in Cancun, the Mexican Caribbean paradise city, enjoying the white sand beach and relaxing under the sun, having a beer or a margarita, just staring at the turquoise blue of the Caribbean sea; as good as a beach vacationing can get.

The hotel zone extended quite orderly along an improbable firm land line, traced by the Caribbean ocean to the east and the Nichupte Lake on to the west, indulging the hotel with a privileged view few other beach cities in the world had, water on both sides of it. Big brands and luxurious hotels piled one after the other, stretching the hotel area for about twenty miles of white sand beach.

It was a quiet relaxed midday, no better time for a family to spend some quality time on the beach and that was just what the three Higgins family members were doing.

"Look at the sea, papa," said the little Timothy Higgins, pointing his little finger at the ocean.

"It's just the wind that's pushing the waves Timmy, don't worry, just stay away from the ocean for a while, ok?" responded Robert Higgins Jr., his dad, as a fatherly smile appeared on his face.

Robert Higgins left his beer on the wooden little table on the beach and straightened himself up in the hammock where he was reading a book by the late Mexican Nobel prize winner, Octavio Paz.

"Hey, Meredith, are you asleep?" he asked his wife, just a few steps away in the other hammock.

"Hum? Oh no, not really, well..." Meredith reacted with dizziness.

"Ha, you are... It's not a good idea. You could get a sunburned you would regret," Robert reprehended her calmly.

"It's time to go and get something to eat."

"You are right. Tim must be hungry already."

The family picked up their things and took them to the hotel on their way to the restaurant.

Not far from them, two figures followed every movement they made. The two men had managed to blend among other tourists on the beach dressed as hotel cleaning staff. They had been following Robert Higgins not long after he arrived in Cancun with his family.

"Are you sure he is our guy?" asked incredulously the sixteen-year old Juan Benavides, a young lean guerrilla informant that used to work as a souvenir salesman on the beach during daylight,

"Yes, I am sure. Damn Juan!" replied Jose, tired of Juan's constant interrogation.

"It's just that he looks like a tourist."

"He's a tourist but he is also a big shot lawyer in an American firm. He has helped us before." explained Jose dressed in a white hotel staff uniform, watching Robert Higgins and his family cross the hotel entrance.

"He looks like a nice guy, now that you mention it. A family guy indeed," Juan agreed.

"Hurry up, don't lose him, Jose." insisted Juan.

Inside the restaurant, just by the buffet bar, Robert Higgins and his wife Meredith were facing a tough decision, with limited space on their stomachs they had to choose...

"It's Chilaquiles with chicken or Mexican scrambled eggs" said Meredith, looking puzzled at Robert for an answer.

"Gee! One of the toughest decisions ever..." A common laughter erupted.

Little Tim looked at mom and dad laughing from a distance and, suddenly, he disliked his hot cakes. He decided on a more exotic plate that seemed more fun. He stood up from the table and walked in mom's direction but was stopped by a man in a hotel uniform.

"Kid, give your dad this envelope. It's very important for him." little Timmy, surprised, grabbed the envelope as an act of reflection, He reacted automatically. The uniform gave him confidence in the messenger.

When he turned again to the man, he was gone, vanished into thin air.

Robert noticed the white envelope on the table when he was about to attack his Chilaquiles. He grabbed the envelope and threw a hard look at Timmy who was now sitting next to him.

"Kid! I have told you before. Never accept gifts from strangers. It is dangerous!" Robert raised his voice angrily staying just short of making a scene. Robert was normally a kind father but he was also keen on disciplining his son when he considered it appropriate, something he learned from his late father that has proven to be very useful so far.

Little Timmy started to cry, cornered by the sudden harsh reprehension and unsure what to make of dad's anger.

"I'm sorry Timmy, but it is for your own good, trust me, I'm your dad. Ok, kid?" asked Robert regaining his calmness.

"Wow, Robert, you sure made a scene!" said Meredith in disapproval of Robert's sudden harshness on Tim.

"I'm sorry, honey, it's just that this kind of things worry me. We are in a foreign country. Outside the hotel area, it's a dangerous world, don't be fooled by the nice hotels." explained Robert.

"The firm has business here, you wouldn't imagine the things we see, I'm a lawyer..." Robert added.

"I know, I was also a lawyer before you came into my life, remember?" Meredith complained.

"Yes, the most beautiful and sexy red haired city lawyer I've ever seen!"

Meredith reacted with a genuine smile. Robert seemed to have a direct line to her good mood.

"You always know how to get a smile out of me Robert!" she kept laughing loudly.

But little Tim still didn't know what to make of the situation.

"I'm sorry, Dad, I won't accept anything from strangers anymore," Timmy assured.

"That's my boy!"

Robert hugged Timmy strongly and kissed the boy in the forehead, satisfied.

Jose was contemplating the scene from outside the hotel restaurant. It suddenly reminded him of his missing family. He reached his pants pocket and took out his wallet. Inside, a photo of Maria and little Jose submerged, an uneasy feeling took control of him, a mix of anger and sadness, a little trembling invaded his knees, draining his legs out of strength until he couldn't take it anymore. He put his wallet back into his pocket, ending his suffering for a while.

His lonely figure started to walk along the crowded boulevard of the hotel area, deeply in his thoughts, thoughts of revenge and hope, mostly hope—they have to know, they must know!—he kept repeating to himself as he walked without destination.

"All right people, let's go for a walk." said Robert.

"Can we go and see the sharks? Please, dad!" begged little Timmy.

"Ok son, we'll ask some tour guide to see if there is any aquarium close by, ok?"

"Ok, dad!"

"It's a good idea. Let's take a walk. It seems nice and the weather is just perfect. Why don't we move here, Robert? New York is so cold sometimes." Meredith daydreamt holding Robert's arm while walking.

"Wish I could, darling, sometime in the future. Who knows?" said Robert.

The Higgins family walked down the Kukulkan Boulevard. They passed along the La Isla shopping mall where Meredith stopped for a souvenir and Timmy got a vanilla ice cream. Finally, after it began to dark, they took a bus back to the hotel.

Curiosity was killing Robert Higgins ever since he grabbed the envelope, it felt as if the envelope was getting heavier minute after minute, but he would not reward Timmy by reading the envelope, at least, not in his presence.

Night fell over Cancun as the Higgins couple were on their hotel room terrace with a wonderful view at the Caribbean ocean, enjoying a round of margaritas, Meredith's favorite drink on vacations.

Robert was submerged deep in his thoughts, looking beyond the horizon. The warm and salty breeze of the ocean passed unnoticed by the thoughtful figure of Robert.

"Are you going to open the envelope?" Meredith asked curiously.

"I have noticed you are still holding it."

"Yes, I was just waiting for Timmy to fall asleep. I don't want him to see me reading it, it would be like granting him permission to accept gifts from strangers. I wouldn't like that."

"You are right on that one. Timmy seems to be sleeping right now."

"Ok, I'll read it now" he said, sounding anxious like a child on Christmas morning.

Robert reached for his pocket and grabbed the envelope.

Dear Mister Robert Higgins...

"Wow! It has my name on it! I wonder who...?"

Dear Mister Robert Higgins:

We are truly sorry about the way this letter reached you. We would have liked to deliver this personally but the circumstances are extremely dangerous for us and we are forced to act with secrecy.

We understand you are a Lawyer for Byron & Schiff law firm and you specialize in international affairs. That's why we have chosen you.

As you may know, recent political events in this country have been sad and violent and many well-intentioned people like ourselves where forced to hide from political persecution.

We have highly sensitive information regarding transcendental political events that, we are sure, would be of your firm's interest. We would like to handle it to you. Your firm is in a much better position to use it and act upon it than we are.

We are proposing a meeting to hand in this information to you personally. Please, come to meet us. We will be at the Seafood & Goods Bar by the Nichupte Lake tomorrow at 6:00 pm. Just be there, it's a very crowded place. We will come to you there, please go alone...

3.

CANCUN, MEXICO

Robert touched his chin as a clear sign of puzzlement as Meredith tried to decipher his thoughts in vain. Robert muttered a few words but she was getting tired of the guessing game.

"What is it Robert?" She demanded.

Robert handed over the letter to Meredith and she read every single word on it. Finally, she stopped, looked back at Robert.

"There is no way you are going Robert. You should not go. It is dangerous!"

"I know right!" Robert sounded excited and that was pissing Meredith off. Robert seemed to have no awareness of danger; this is what bothered her the most; but Robert kept talking about his intentions. Meredith feared he was serious about going.

"I mean it Robert!" she threatened.

"The thing is that whoever wrote this letter knows something big. This case, the reason why I was in Mexico City last Thursday is because our client is negotiating with the Mexican government on an energy services contract. All that is supposed to be a secret, get it?" Robert explained trying to convince Meredith. She had already given in and was counting herself in the non-believers column on the balance of things.

"So, do you believe somebody is trying to tip you off about something? How do you know it could be related to your client's business here?" she asked.

"Everything is related to politics and I believe there is something fishy going on that affects our clients' business in Mexico. It all comes down to politics here and there are a lot of disgruntled former employees ready to reveal crucial information for the right amount... I just cannot afford losing such an opportunity."

"Look... the place is a crowded bar in a touristic place, security around the hotel area in Cancun is tight," Robert emphasized trying to ease Meredith's concern.

"Hmmm" Meredith was still worried.

"Don't you worry, ok? I'm going to go there, if I see anything suspicious or if it simply doesn't feel right, I will get the heck out of the place, I promise."

"We'll be in touch by cell phone. If anything goes wrong, I'll let you know right away and then, you call the police," said Robert.

The conversation kept on for hours until well late in the night. Robert managed to convince Meredith, who, reluctantly, agreed in the end.

Next morning, the alarm clock woke Higgins up. They had already been hearing people having a good time, bathing in the pool and children playing in the sand by the time they were awaken by little Tim.

"Hurry up if we want to seize the day. It's getting late," said little Timmy, jumping on mom and dad's bed.

Robert opened one eye, slowly reincorporating. They got to bed late last night making a plan for the afternoon appointment Robert had. They'd figured out all the good and bad possibilities.

Not far from there, in downtown Cancun, a different situation was taking place as Cancun policeman, Jesus Perez, was surprised by an unexpected name that appeared on his patrol car's screen while he was making his daily patrolling.

"Dispatch, we have news, over," he informed clicking his radio and looking at the police patrol's screen. A radio distorted voice quickly answered.

"Here, dispatch. What is it, Officer Perez?"

"A name just popped up in my screen. It is Jose Murgia. But it is not specified if he is to be arrested or else. Shall I proceed to board him anyway, dispatch?"

The police patrol was cruising over downtown Cancun, a place not as crowded as the hotel area but still with tight security.

The policeman tried to remain as close to the signal as possible but ended losing sight of the suspect as he moved into the market, a place heavily crowded by local people to get food, clothes and supplies. The market was an old classical and huge Mexican building that must have been there for centuries, the place was really enormous, with a maze of passages and stores that made it a labyrinth which even the locals found it difficult to go through.

Few moments passed and dispatch responded on the radio.

"Officer, do not proceed, repeat leave the place. Do not proceed."

"But dispatch... the subject is tagged. My screen still flashes," insisted Officer Perez.

"It's an order officer, It's none of our business. Just leave the place."

"Ok Dispatch. Officer Perez now leaving the place." That was weird, he thought—if anything, it's the boss's fault and I'm hungry...

The small incident didn't pass unnoticed and the Cancun police department energized as they quickly searched their database for the name reported by Officer Perez. Suddenly, they found something unexpected. It seemed some people, well above their pay grade, were showing keen interest in the guy.

"Rodriguez, send this report to the federal police intelligence unit at once," ordered Lt. David Marquez of the Cancun police force.

"Yes sir. At once, sir!" a young policeman responded.

Lt. David was in his office in the police headquarters near downtown Cancun. I hope we don't get into trouble. Every time we report something to those guys, things get messy around here. He was a man of height and weight with a black beard, bad temper and a reputation of being a tough guy.

This time he would dare to ask further. That was the least he could do if the Political Intelligence Office's task force were about to wreak havoc his jurisdiction again.

He pressed a button in his desk that communicated directly with his secretary.

"Mara, get me through to the Policia Federal in Cancun and get me with General Ordoñez immediately." he instructed.

After a few moments the phone inside his office rang.

"This is Lt. David Marquez in charge of the Cancun police force," he answered.

"This is General Ordoñez, what can I do for you, Lieutenant?"

"Listen, we just sent you a report. It's aimed at your intelligence department." he said quickly. "What is this about? Who's the fellow you tagged and what is he doing here?" asked Lt. Marquez.

"It's classified information, Lieutenant. People from the Political Intelligence Office arrived just minutes after we received your report. They are not telling us anything either..."

The conversation suddenly got serious.

"You mean, the people of the presidency?"

"I'm afraid so, Lieutenant..."

"Does that mean...?" asked Lt. Marquez shocked.

Inside the market, unaware of him being spotted, Jose Murguia got inside Uncle Lupita's grocery store, a classical typical Mexican store and got to its storage room located in the back.

He was expected.

Around an improvised table between grocery boxes, three men awaited him.

He took a seat and stared at each of the men sitting there. For a tense moment, nobody said a word. One of them placed some papers on the table and handed Jose what appeared to be a tourist brochure, another man handed him a camera and some tourist apparel. Jose put on the tourist clothes and hung the camera around his neck. No word crossing, no smiles.

An old man, the oldest of the three, looked directly at Jose Murgia in a way that demanded full attention.

"Inside the brochure, you will find a miniature transcript of the conversation between president Trujillo and the official that arranged the killings of the opposition leaders last year, also, there is a list of key witnesses and operatives both in Mexico and internationally and a detailed description of how things took place. You have to enter this password on the screen. Be careful not to do it more than once or the memory device will be destroyed, ok?" he said.

"Yes" Jose Murguia responded obediently.

"Don't worry. I will deliver it to Robert Higgins, no matter what."

"The opposition counts on that, Jose. We are not sure where some of these evidences came from but we have checked them and they are solid enough." said another man.

"I'm also looking forward to deliver this evidence, a lot depends on it!"

Some moments later, Jose left the place, dressed as a tourist with a camera hanging from his neck.

Jose walked the streets of downtown Cancun looking for a cab. The clock was ticking close to five thirty p.m. It didn't take long to get to Kukulkan Boulevard to meet Robert Higgins on the designated place, Seafood & Goods.

As the taxi cruised the streets of Cancun on its way to Nichupte Lake, Jose remembered better times, times when he was a successful businessman back in Oaxaca and Mexico, times he shared with his family before everything was taken from him.

He never imagined that he would be back in Cancun but in such a different manner, waiting for instructions to save his family... or was it all a blind hope?

Palm trees and people slid outside the cab's window as the car crossed the streets on its way to the hotel area.

But his taxi was not the only one heading to Seafood &Goods restaurant. He was being closely followed. An unexpected white car kept tracking of them. Inside the van, two political intelligence office's task force agents reported every move Jose made.

Such agents had been trained around the world in places such as Israel and the United Kingdom by the most professional government agencies on espionage, counter espionage and covert operations.

The Mexican government devoted lots of time, political clout, human and monetary resources to develop its own political bureau, just like any other absolute regime.

4.

CANCUN, MEXICO

"Come on you bastards! Is that everything you've got?"

Frank "Big Luck" Smith yelled before falling to the floor...

"This is Captain Frank 'Big Luck' Smith, an ex British S.A.S., a blues guitarist and a drunkard son of a bitch, a tough son of a bitch! He just knocked down two of our guys back in there, and yes, he owes us eight thousand dollars, boss," said one of the tough guys, holding the drunk man who was barely able to speak and was badly beaten, but still laughing.

"Hip! Yooouuu don't look too well my friend, itzzz that blood coming off your little nose?" buzzed Big Luck laughing at the tough guy.

PAM! Another punch landed on Frank's skull.

"Let's see if you are still laughing after I beat the crap out of you, stupid drunk!" the thug threatened.

"That is enough! Or I won't be able to talk to him, right? So stop it!" ordered Mr. Gomez, as the people in Cancun knew him. Nobody really knew his real name. He had the reputation of being an ex cop who turned into a big loan shark with a really bad temper and worse methods.

"Ok Frankie, where is my money?" Mr. Gomez asked in an ironically gently tone.

"I told you, Tuesday." Frank responded babbling blood.

"You mean this Tuesday?"

"Yes, yes, this is Tuesday." Frank added.

"Hmmm, do you know what day is it, Frank?"

"No, not really," answered Frank, managing to force a daring smile.

Mr. Gomez indicated with his fingers for the tough guy to drop Frank alone in the alley.

"It's useless," he added in despair.

"The guy is plain crazy. He has a death wish. I've seen that before."

"Why don't we kill him boss? Right here, nobody has to know."

"You are stupid, Bato! He's a foreigner. Do you know the trouble we would get ourselves into if we kill him in the hotel area, just in the back of the Seafood & Goods Bar? It's already a miracle nobody saw us beating him."

Frank "Big Luck" Smith laid alone in the alley after the thugs left him. Beaten, but quickly regaining his breath.

He was as strong as an oak, his body still showed the signs of a tough training, his muscles well defined, his head shaved, a tattoo barely showed in the back of his neck. Few minutes passed and Frank made his entrance back into the bar, walking a fine straight line and regaining composure at a fast rate as if nothing had happened.

"My God! Smith! What the hell happened to you? Who were those guys you left with?" asked Mandy, the owner's wife, a beautiful blonde, she liked to hang around for a while in the bar every time she could. It kind of reminded her of Tennessee, where she was from. There was a bar there where her father used to go. Her husband, Mario, gave her freedom to make the bar any way she liked and she devoted a lot of time to Seafood & Goods to look like that old blues bar she loved.

She very much succeeded; the bar looked just like the one in Tennessee with the wooden smell, the faded lights, the big posters of the great B.B. King and Eric Clapton in his best years. There were guitars all over the walls and there was a very special one signed by B.B. King himself which was next to a photo of the great musician, also signed.

It was a place Americans, who lived in Cancun, visited every time they wanted a piece of home for a nice while. Blues music, bourbon whisky and beer started flowing every day, from four pm until very late at night.

After his wife had passed away a few years ago, Frank "Big Luck" Smith felt pretty much devastated, he lost his will and hid himself in the bottom of a whisky bottle until Mandy and Mario discovered, one night, that he played the guitar beautifully. They offered him a place to perform blues guitar every then on the stage of the Seafood & Goods bar. Since then, they had become close friends and "Big Luck" found himself a nice place to purge, through bourbon and blues, all his past sins which came back to haunt him after his beautiful Luciana had passed away. Sins he would not regret since they were committed in the line of duty, serving his queen and country, protecting his fellow citizens from terrorism and other treats few people imagined. He served for years in black operations all around the world, only the best are chosen for such tasks and Frank "Big Luck" Smith was one of the finest. He was nicknamed "Big Luck" by his comrades in the corps. One can only imagine what type of crazy things he must have done to get himself that nickname. Only the nickname, the tattoo and some fine guns of his collection remain from those years.

"Nothing serious, Mandy, I never left. I just had a little misunderstanding with those mates in the back alley. I'm ok now." explained Big Luck as if he was talking about a mosquito bite. Mandy looked confused.

Mandy knew that Frank usually got into trouble. He liked to gamble. Mandy had warned him lots of times about that habit.

"All right, Frank, but are you sure you are ok?"

"Yes, Mandy."

"If there is anything we or the police could do, just let us know."

"Thanks Mandy, but that won't be necessary, everything is taken care of. Those guys won't return. I promise." said Frank while gearing up his guitar and amplifier up to the stage.

The clock on the wall indicated six pm and Jose Murguia was already in the place, sitting in a booth very close to the scene and having a beer, hoping that the sound of music being so close could disguise the conversation in case Robert Higgins showed up.

Still too early to call, let's give him a couple of minutes more, he thought as he asked the waiter for another beer. He was nervous, obviously not used to situations like that, not prepared for this type of undercover missions. He must have felt he was in a spy movie for a while if it wasn't for the fact that he was actually pretty scared and trying hard to disguise it.

He scanned the place in search for any suspicious activity, any sign that could tell him the meeting was compromised but he failed to notice the couple just three booths away from him.

The two people in the booth were, in fact, two agents disguised so well that they, indeed, looked like a regular couple up to a beer and some nice music. They were there to catch Jose and whoever chatted with him as soon as he or she showed up.

Frank "Big Luck" Smith was familiar to this kind of behavior. He'd developed an acute sense during his years in the English army 'Mind your surroundings, don't give anything for granted. After so many years, it kind of sticks.' he used to say.

He'd noticed the uneasy behavior Jose showed since the moment he crossed the door, alone, making an effort to look carefree.

Jose didn't match the characteristics of a potential treat, unarmed he could tell, and he just didn't have the look in the eyes of a wolf choosing a prey. None of those features was present. He was just a guy with a problem.

Frank kept getting things ready to perform, the sounds of the guitar chords sweetened as he was tuning them, one by one, with a gently grip on the instrument.

Then, he noticed the two people, three booths away from Jose, pretending to be a couple in love. They were holding hands but there was no spark in their eyes. Both were obviously targeting at Jose. They were armed. He could tell by the way they held their purses—a couple of wolves about to catch their prey, he thought. Prudent people would intentionally ignore what was happening, but not "Big Luck" Smith. He was not prudent and he wasn't in the mood for wolves, either.

Some moments later, an even more suspiciously behaving figure entered the bar. It was Robert Higgins, the young successful good looking hot shot lawyer, who was about to get himself into a situation.

He scrutinized the people around, catching the agent couple's attention. He didn't notice anything unusual, no sinister looking figure, no tattooed gang members. He couldn't see any of the dangerous figures he thought could be involved in a kidnap operation. 'Oh boy, it's not so bad after all. One of these people must be a disgruntled employee.'

He felt almost silly for not having done the guesswork. 'A tourist bar in a tourist area, filled with people, most of them American, what was I thinking? How could somebody pull off a kidnap here? It is ridiculous.' He concluded. 'More meat to the party.' thought Frank "Big Luck" Smith the moment he saw Robert.

Jose saw Robert and waved his hand to catch his attention. Robert saw him and headed his way.

"Robert, my friend, please have a seat." Jose insisted when Robert reached him.

Robert sat in the booth. Jose stretched out his hand for a handshake, Robert recognized Jose, somehow he seemed very familiar to him. He tried to recall where he had met him before but nothing came to his mind. Robert couldn't help confronting Jose.

"Do we know each other?" the question took Jose by surprise. He didn't expect Robert to remember his face after so long and, besides, it was just business, not personal affairs.

"Yes, Robert, we have met before. I am Jose Murgia from Murgia & Co. Transports."

"What the...?" Robert was shocked.

"Yes, yes, Mr. Murgia, Toluca, back in 2010, right?"

"Yes, precisely!" Jose Murgia felt a relief. Robert recognized him without further elaboration. There was no time to lose.

"So what is going on Mr. Murgia? What's the secrecy all about? How is it that you know about sensitive political matters so much?" Robert popped the questions one after another.

"I am a member of the opposition party, Robert. I lost it all. Even my family was kidnapped because of the political prosecution by president Trujillo. He was the one who killed the opposition party leaders on the national protest day. Since then, he has been hunting and killing us, blaming us for the killings and other atrocities he has committed, making outlaws of us. He holds a corrupt relation with many tycoons and, you bet, that doesn't fit well your customers business here in Mexico! That's why it concerns you and we have evidence of all," explained Jose.

He felt thrilled for finally being able to deliver the evidence to a person, in a good position to use it. He did not try to hide his excitement, maybe the world would finally know the truth, the suffering could end. They have tried everything before, different possible ways of spreading it, but all was useless. It takes more than an email or a letter to accuse a president of murder and genocide. They needed hard sound evidence to proceed, such evidence was all on the microfilms and the memory device he has in the camera, which was about to be delivered to Robert Higgins.

Robert was on awe as Jose went through the whole story and explained why they needed him. A sudden conviction grew up inside of him, he felt sorry for all Jose had passed through.

"Now, Robert, do you believe that if you present this evidence in the United States, in the media, the base for a criminal prosecution or some kind of measure could be set?"

"Hmmm. I am going to be honest, Jose, pressing criminal charges is going to be tough because he has immunity. He is a president in office. But we can hit in the media very hard. You know, focus the attention of the world on what is going on. My firm has a lot of political clout and influence if we prove wrongful business from the Mexican government. Pressing for an economic sanction would be a reasonable expectation." At this point, in his answer, for a moment, he perceived a premature disappointed look from Jose.

"The point is... things can be done, but I must take this to the United States and work with my firm to get something solid enough. It is not going to be easy, I can tell you now, but it could be a demolishing blow to the damned man's ambition, with the focus of the world on him after we tear his mask apart. He will be obliged to stop the killing and, eventually, brought before trial in the international penal court when he ends his term. It's a game changer... no doubt" Robert explained as Jose, whose eyes regained their initial brightness, smiled in relief. Something could be done after all. What a good idea to hand the evidence to Robert. He was not mistaken.

"Here, Robert, take this camera, inside you'll find the evidence, recorded conversations, photos, etc... the work of a lifetime. Many people lost their lives gathering all this. Here, have the password." Jose handed the camera and the password written on a piece of paper to Robert.

"Make sure you enter the password correctly or the device will self-destruct after three failed attempts. Be careful."

"Ok, don't you worry, Jose."

"Also, have this brochure. Inside, there is a miniature transcript of the conversation, a list of key names and witnesses and a time lined description of things occurred that can be corroborated."

"Nice Jose."

"Let's hope so, Robert, for people's sake. We have suffered a lot, lots of innocent people disappeared or were shot by the army and the so called Political Intelligence Office, the thugs and assassins of President Trujillo. The situation is desperate. We don't have too much time, resources or people left."

Frank "Big Luck" Smith was able to hear most of the conversation. He should have been called Frank "Big Ears" as well. He also noticed how the fake couple was communicating with their base, waiting for orders to proceed. The corps instinct activated inside him as he decided to take sides. He would get the two fellows, in the booth, out of the bar safe. Their cause was worth intervening and he did not have much left to lose anyway.

He acted swiftly. First, he went to the bathroom. From the window, he could have a clear view of the back alley. It was clear. He had found their way out. Second, he would create a distraction to allow them time to reach for the bathroom. Finally, grab and load his gun, just in case.

When the bunch of waiters, in party hats and with jars of beer went to the third booth table to distract the couple, they would run to the bathroom and jump through the window into the back alley.

The waiter party committee, with jars of beer, approached the couple and surrounded the booth.

The couple was taken by complete surprise as they found themselves surrounded by singing waiters, party hats and beer jars.

Frank hurried backstage and grabbed a gun hidden in his stuff and then got to the table Jose and Robert occupied.

"It's a trap. The couple over there is here to kill you. Follow me at once! Questions later!" He said in a hurry, disconcerting Robert and alarming them both.

Both, Robert and Jose, surprised, followed Frank instinctively into the bathroom while the couple took out their guns and scrambled their way through the party committee to catch them. Panic suddenly erupted among the people in the place as they saw the guns. Then, all hell broke loose.

They reached the bathroom.

"Hurry! We must jump through that window into the alley."

First, it was Frank who jumped, then, Robert and finally, Jose. A shot was heard. It hit the wall seconds after Jose jumped. The sound of police sirens were heard approaching the place from all directions. The male agent also jumped through the window after Jose but he was hit by Frank's gunfire.

Pam! Pam! A bullet struck the agent in his foot, making him rollover in pain, unable to stand up. Now the three of them were running in the street direction, just to see it packed with policemen who started shooting at them. The number of cops grew by the second.

"Hurry! Let's go to the lake! I know another way out." shouted Frank.

They sprinted towards the lake until the alley ended and, then, landed on the lake beach, where a small motor boat was parked.

Frank jumped aboard, they followed. Frank did some maneuvers and started the engine. The boat moved fast. It was Mario's boat. 'Hope he won't get mad at me for taking his boat, I will deliver it back safe'. Shots were being fired at them from the beach, the police was trying to hit them. Luckily, they could dodge the shots as they moved farther away from the beach. Siren lights piled on the beach getting way behind them.

"Where are we going?" asked Robert alarmed.

"Trust me, folks, I know a way we can fool these bastards. They will try to meet us on the other side but I have a surprise for them!"

"I'm sorry, Mario. The boat has to go!" Jose was speechless, sitting tight, holding on the boat with all his strength. Robert was scared too.

"Ok, boys, I'm sorry but we will have to jump off the boat!"

"WHAT?!" both shouted.

"You heard me, boys, trust me, at the count of three, and you'd better jump if you want to live! If the helicopter arrives, we won't be able to escape from them!"

The boat slowed down to allow them a quick jump. It marched at high speed, splashing waves all around it.

"The sand formed a swallow spot nobody knows of. You can walk from there to the beach. The boat will continue speeding forward, towards the other side of the lake, tricking them. We must jump exactly where I say or we will be thrown into deep waters infested with crocodiles!"

"CROCODILES?!"

"Hurry, one... two... three!!!"

They jumped off the boat as the boat kept a straight line. A helicopter was approaching. They landed in the swallow spot Frank talked about. They sprinted towards the beach. No time to have a look at the lake.

They finally reached the beach and got lost inland. The boat continued motoring at full speed, heading to the north side of the beach, drawing a straight line in the water as it cruised the lake.

The police was already there, with their guns out for a warm welcome. The light of the helicopter started to scan the lake, aiming for a clear view of the speeding boat. It took no time for the light to be over the boat. But, Surprise! Nobody on it!

"Shit! It's going to crash into the boys down there," said the copilot of the helicopter.

"Ground units, over, ground units, over!" the radio urged.

"What is it, air unit?"

"There is nobody on the boat and it's going to crash. Stay clear of the way."

"JESUS!"

Too late. The boat reached the beach at full speed, hitting the rocks which served as a ramp, making the boat take off, propelling itself like a missile and crashed violently onto the patrols, smashing two of them into pieces. A blaze wrapped up the rest of the police cars quickly, setting them on fire.

From the helicopter, a huge maze of flames could be seen burning the beach. Still some gasoline burning over the lake, illuminating the night in Cancun!

"Who the... fuck... what?!!!!" shouted enraged Lt. Marquez when news of the fire fight arrived at his desk, just moments after the boat crashed.

"You say some Gringos did it, right?"

"Yes, sir." a voice responded over the radio.

"Well, then, close all the entrances to the consulate. Nobody must enter! You hear me?"

"Yes, sir, at once!"

"What the fuck are you waiting for, move!" ordered Lt. Marquez and the vans left at full speed, screeching out of the headquarters on their way to the scene.

5.

CANCUN, MEXICO

It took no time for the escaping incident to gather full media coverage. Most local news channels and radio stations were covering the developments as reporters crowded into the scene, trying to get the better angle and some interviews.

The police called the incident a mere accident. They sent a press briefing, arguing that a boat went out of control and crashed into the emergency services personnel that were deployed on the beach, ready to assist. Nobody really bought that story.

The Federal Police deployed around the city.

Meredith had reached the consulate with little Tim. They barely made it inside to ask for protection. They saw how the Cancun Police blocked the nearby streets and the consulate entrances with armed men so nobody could enter the place. They displayed big photos of her husband Robert, Jose Murgia and Frank Smith, the other two unknown faces to her.

When she saw the photos displayed on the street, she felt an urge to go out and ask the police what was going on and why her husband was tagged as 'Wanted by the Police.'

She refrained from doing so. She knew the police was known to be ruthless. Besides, getting out of the consulate building would expose her, making her husband vulnerable. She was a pretty smart woman.

She knew better and stayed inside the consulate, with the cell phone they bought for the occasion, in case things went wrong, just like they did. She kept her son, Tim, close to her, trying to calm him down with fantastic stories about her father's whereabouts. She also prayed for Robert. She kept on waiting for the phone to ring.

Ring, Ring! The cell phone on her hand rang.

"Oh, my God! Robert what is going on?"

Robert could be heard on the move, somewhat excited and worried.

"Honey, I'm ok. I'm with some friends. We are going someplace safe, don't trust anybody. Just stay in the consulate with Timmy. I'll try to get in touch later and explain things better. I'm OK, honey. Don't worry, please!"

"Robert, you won't be able to reach any consulate! The police are looking for you. Try to stay on the hide until I get assistance from the State Department."

Frank interrupted Robert. He must, immediately, get rid of the cell phone or he would risk being traced and located.

"Honey, I have to get rid of the phone. We won't communicate again until I get to U.S.A. I'm with some skilled friends. We'll make it there somehow. We'll walk our way out or something. Trust me. I've got something extremely important, a game changer for good!"

"I know, honey, I'll try to help you from here!"

"See you later, honey! Love you!" Robert hung up and reluctantly threw the phone away.

They found themselves in a dire and tough situation. They were running away in a foreign country, chased by the police and the Political Intelligence Office assassins and unable to get help in an unknown territory.

"We have to keep moving. We'll blend with the people in downtown Cancun. Jose will do the talking. He's Mexican," Frank said and they all agreed.

"Do you know where we can get some supplies, Jose? We have no money," said Robert.

"Yes, I do. There is a store in a market downtown called Lupita's. The owner has helped us before. She will provide us with the things we need. I'm sure. It's still open, but we have to hurry."

"That is great, Jose! What are we waiting for? Let's hurry!"

Carefully, they all headed to the market. The place was still boiling with people, late shoppers who were getting their grocery supplies before going to their houses. They blended among the people and sneaked into Lupita's grocery store, unnoticed.

They found Lupita. The owner was cleaning the front desk. She looked at them and recognized Jose. She was surprised they made it to her store.

"Jose, what happened? You are on the news, you are badly wanted so are your American companions. You have to flee Cancun at once!"

"I know Lupita. We are on the run. We will leave Cancun, but we need some supplies for the trip first!"

"Take whatever you want but hurry up" Frank started grabbing some stuff at once. He didn't waste much time. He made himself with canned food, a basic medical kit and matches, lots of matches, kitchen knives of all kinds and some other stuff. Jose and Robert grabbed food and bottled water, following Frank's advice.

Lupita reached for something under the cashier desk. She handed a map to Jose, some coordinates were written on it. Also, she gave him a compass.

"Jose, these coordinates lead to the opposition camp. Get there, you will be safe, they can help your friends reach the Unites States with the evidence." Jose handed the map and the compass to Frank as they left the store.

"God be with you guys, God bless you for this!"

They left the store in a discrete manner and managed to escape the grocery market unnoticed.

They got away from the City of Cancun on foot. They encountered some policemen on their way out but they cleverly avoided being spotted, thanks to Frank's deliberate maneuvers.

After long hours on the walk, Cancun was left behind. Before them was the highway, the jungle and the unknown. Only a rusty map and some coordinates written on it gave them hope, solace, purpose and direction.

They had to keep moving, get to the point and hope for the best.

"Think of me as your guardian angel, guys!" Frank said in a somewhat humorous tone.

"You'll have to trust my instincts from here on, mate!"

"And they are bloody sharp!"

6.

MIRAFLORES DE LA SIERRA, OUTSKIRTS OF MADRID, SPAIN

The huge Villa dominated from the mountains, very close to Miraflores de la Sierra, a national park north of Madrid, famous for its beautiful views and granite monoliths in a high mountain environment. The private Villa was close to the town but remote enough to make it a very private place. The villa featured some fine taste architecture, an exquisite blend between gothic and Mediterranean architecture that resembled a castle with the luxuries of a modern five star hotel. It even had a heliport.

A huge amount of pine trees and various types of flowers surrounded the beautiful Villa.

There, Don Joseph Galá-Saint Michele was having a glass of fine wine and smoking a handmade Cuban cigar. He was delighted by the view of the mountains from the huge panoramic window in the living room. Don Joseph Galá, the head of a big French-Spanish hedge fund was waiting Don Antonio Cazador's arrival for the appointment they had. Once there, he was greeted with all courtesies by Antonio's villa staff and they offered him the best wines from the sophisticated cava and the best handmade Cuban cigars.

Don Antonio was known to be a savvy wine collector but he always preferred a good rum, which reminded him of a time when the Spanish ruled the Americas, his long time obsession.

The sound of a car engine was heard parking. The living room was not that far from the main house entrance. Outside, in a Blue luxurious car, Antonio Cazador arrived, some minutes late to the appointment.

A little while after, Antonio appeared in the living room where Joseph Galá was waiting for him. He was wearing a casual outfit, jeans and a blazer suit, so was Joseph Galá, who offered a firm handshake the moment Antonio appeared in the living room.

"So how are you, Joseph?" said Antonio in a relaxed manner.

"Not as good as yourself Antonio, but fine." responded Joseph.

"I've heard the markets have been giving you a rough treatment lately. How true is that, Joseph?"

"You know how media are in this kind of business, they exaggerate things quite a lot. I'm a natural target since our fund is one of the biggest on this side of the big sea." explained Joseph, somewhat uneasy about the straightforward question.

"How is the Mexico affair doing, Antonio? You have a big smile on your face you can't hide."

"It's doing nicely, even better than I expected."

Antonio lit a cigar to join Joseph and poured some rum in his glass, the ice resounded in it.

"I can't drink that stuff you are drinking. I don't get how you can drink that when you own one of the finest cavas in Spain." Joseph expressed disconcerted by the choice of Antonio.

"I'm sure you can't, Joseph. You've said it yourself my friend, you don't get it. Most Europeans don't, ron or rum is a Caribbean beverage, it reminds me of our little project in the Americas. I kind of taste my goal when I drink it. It's a bizarre pleasure," explained Antonio.

"And speaking of the devil, how was your meeting with the president?" Joseph asked intrigued.

"The little guy has a big ego, but he is a ruthless and cruel tropical dictator like any other in such lands, cleverly disguised of a legitimate president. He's very ambitious but not easy to manipulate. That troubles me."

"I've heard he is a smart guy."

"Yes, very. He plans to remain in power by controlling the biggest enterprises in Mexico. The guy knows how to do it." Antonio elaborated.

"How about the opposition, has he succeeded in dismantling it?" asked Joseph curiously.

"He's getting rid of it quite efficiently, he will finish with it soon. The members of the opposition have lost a lot of presence, they were almost reduced to oblivion. I don't see them resisting once we take over the presidency. By then, they will have gone."

"Is our inside man ready to take step up to power? Has he gained the congress backup?" Joseph Gala seemed to be very interested in Antonio's answer.

Antonio's eyes brightened up as he explained Joseph the importance of what he had.

"Yes, he has been lobbying the congress. His position is extremely solid. He's confident and has gathered key backup."

"Besides, I have something nobody else has to back him up. I have solid evidence that President Trujillo ordered the massacre on the protest day, which will bring about his downfall."

"How did you gather that evidence?"

"I have my means, Joseph, it doesn't matter. I paid for it quite a substantial amount to the right people inside the government."

'Bought it?' Joseph thought doubting Antonio's version; He could, very well, be bluffing.

"Wow, Antonio you must handle yourself very carefully. That information you have could bring about his downfall. How can you be sure they don't know what you have?" warned Joseph.

"The important thing is to get our man into the presidency. A law suit seems to be the best option to bring political ruin over president Trujillo. Once he is bleeding in the open, the sharks will do the rest. And they are hungry sharks I tell you!"

"Indeed. But remember we have other methods as well," Joseph added confidently.

"Have the fake funds been transferred to the CAZA & Guajardo account in your bank?"

"Yes, the balance appears for twenty million American dollars. However, there is not a cent of real money in it."

"Have they believed you?"

"Yes, they believed me completely."

A huge laugh was heard but after a few moments was stopped short by silence.

"You are playing a dangerous game, Antonio." Their expression got serious as they recapitulated the risk involved...

A very dangerous game indeed...

7.

STATE OF CAMPECHE; SOMEWHERE IN THE MEXICAN JUNGLE

After some hard days on the road, walking and hiding, the opposition camp was getting closer and closer according to the map. The party managed to cross the state border, leaving Cancun well behind, thanks to the survival tactics Frank "Big Luck" Smith applied during the long walk.

They went over the coordinates and the map again. They had been slowly making their way through the thick jungle, keeping safe from snakes and other hazards, trying to reach the exact spot the coordinates indicated. They moved mostly on faith alone, not even Jose had ever been on such camp before. He only knew of its existence by rumors.

Most of the opposition leadership was supposed to be hiding in there, so secrecy was a must and the security, around it, was tight. Frank knew very well they might not be received as friends at first, but he was hoping the opposition members would quickly recognize Jose.

After a few more hours hiking in the jungle maze, it was starting to dark, few minutes of daylight remained and they would be forced to stop the march. It has never been a good idea to move in the jungle in the dark, not even with lanterns, so they had little time to spare.

Frank insisted on making accommodations for the coming night if they wanted to avoid snakes and other dangers of the jungle. Many jungle animal species are most active at night.

The morale was quickly starting to fade since, according to their calculations, they had been over the spot for more than three hours and there were no signs of the camp. Robert and Jose felt anguish. Frank started to tie some rope around the most solid trees he could see to place some fabric over them, improvising a little tent as a way to avoid resting on the jungle floor. Jose and Robert did the same thing just minutes before it started to downpour.

The darkness of the night and the jungle sounds provided an exotic mix of gorgeous vegetation and a beautiful star spangled sky that shone upon them, and, then, there was the moon, the big half moon evoked melancholies from within themselves. They all, one by one, fell asleep to the mystical enchantment of the jungle night.

"WHAT THE HECK?" Frank screamed as he woke up to find himself caged like a wild animal.

"Oh, no!" Robert stated with regret, as he woke up caged, too.

There were no signs of Jose as they were imprisoned in what seemed to be a concrete underground kind of bunker. "Damn! We were over it the whole time," realized Frank.

"Robert, can you hear me? It's me, Frank" He shouted to the hallway. He noticed a couple of empty cells in front of him but couldn't see the ones next to his.

"Yes, Frank, I'm right here!" Robert shouted back.

"Are you ok?" both asked at the same time, "Yes, yes."

"Where is Jose?"

"I don't know, Frank. He is not here, at least, not close."

"Let's hope they recognized him and they are about to let us go," said Frank.

"You'd better be right!"

The Camp was no other thing but a huge concrete bunker under the jungle land and extremely well camouflaged, no wonder the Political Intelligence Office had been unable to locate it in spite of their constant efforts.

The bunker construction seemed to be new. It must have had about twenty years as much according to its condition. Electricity cables were housed all around the roof of the bunker hallways, a water tube could also be distinguished running along with the cables. The place was illuminated by lamps, completely covering the walls all along the installation. It was all white colored. Whoever built it had the intention of spending long seasons inside it since he took the time to paint it. The bunker also had an infirmary and a kitchen as well as a huge warehouse.

More than an hour passed and there was no news about Jose's whereabouts but, then, Jose turned up walking in the hallway, escorted by two other armed men heading to where Frank and Robert were imprisoned.

"Nice seeing you, mate!" Frank exclaimed.

"Where have you been?" Robert asked. Jose was looking serious, preoccupied. He nodded at Frank and the two men opened the cell door, letting Frank out.

"Come with us." one of the two men indicated.

"It's all right, Frank, they won't hurt us," Jose added. They walked away from Robert as he was left in the cell locked. 'What the heck is going on?' Robert thought.

Frank was led into an interrogation room. It had a huge mirror, just like the ones the police had, with a table and a chair. He waited there for a couple of minutes. Then, three guys entered the room. One of them was bringing a polygraph.

Frank exploded when he saw the polygraph "I've had enough of this bullshit, let me go or I'll fucking beat the crap out of you all!"

But then Jose appeared and Robert along with him. He calmly sat in front of Frank and asked Robert to have a seat as well.

"The commander says he is sorry about the inconveniences. After this is done, you will be accommodated in your rooms, where you can have a nice warm bath and get some sleep before you are greeted by the leader himself, later in a special dinner. He is so glad we made it here!" explained Jose, a glimpse of excitement could be noticed in his voice.

He seemed happy about it. That made both Frank and Robert calm down. One of the guys in the room approached Frank and politely asked for his permission to practice him a polygraph test. Frank agreed, so did Robert. After a series of testing questions, the polygraph was taken away from them and the guys asked them to leave the room and to follow them.

Frank and Robert were led through some corridors until they reached a metallic door, similar to the ones found in ships.

"Gentlemen, this is your room. It's the best the camp has to offer. Please make yourselves at home. There is warm water in the shower and personal cleaning items had been provided along with some new clean clothes. We will come for you at five for dinner. There you will meet the leader and the rest of the people."

Frank and Robert entered the room as the guys left in an undisclosed direction.

"What can you make of it, Frank?" asked Robert.

"They are well prepared, I can tell you that. They correctly screened us first to make sure we were not spies. I would have done the same thing in their place. You can call it routine precautions," explained Frank somewhat relaxed now.

"We will know further, once we speak with their leader. Until then, let's have a bath and some sleep. God knows I can use it after what we have been through!" concluded Robert as he was getting his stuff ready for a nice bath.

Meanwhile, in another room not far from them, Jose was also getting ready for a bath when the sound of a beep interrupted his preparations. His heart began to pound inside his chest. After searching where the sound came from, he found a little recorder hidden under the bed. He grabbed it, a note was attached to it. "Play me." Jose pressed the play button and a recording started: "Jose, you will make sure, by any means, the evidence gets to the USA. You are being observed. If you reveal anything, your family dies! Remember, only you can save them. Wait after this message and you will hear proof of life of your family." A minute passed and a child's voice could be heard, "Daddy? Daddy? This is Jose." A cold sweat ran down his forehead and his legs lost their strength...

8.

THE OPPOSITION BUNKER

CAMPECHE, MEXICO

Soon it was five o'clock, Frank and Robert felt the hours like minutes when they were resting but suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"Mr. Robert, Mr. Frank. It's time for dinner. I hope you are hungry," a very young man appeared when Frank opened the door.

"You bet we are hungry, kid!" expressed Frank, glad it was dinner time.

"Follow me then. You will meet our leader." Robert and Frank happily walked after the young fighter, following him to the dinner place.

After some minutes, they reached the place. It looked like a barrack. The ceiling was high and the room was big enough to host, at least, four hundred people. It had bathroom facilities and lots of bunk beds for about three hundred people who were scattered all over the room, performing their own activities as if they were living a normal life.

Women, children, men and old men could be seen around. Some families even seemed to be complete, these people must have been hiding here for months, they even improvised a small library with some coffee tables to make the time more enjoyable.

"What the heck is going on in this country? Are those refugees, boy?" asked Frank, somewhat impressed.

"Yes, we are all refugees here. The government has been hunting us for months but we found shelter here. We have food and water. We even improvised an infirmary, you probably have noticed that." responded the young fighter.

"Where are your parents?" asked Robert.

"They couldn't make it. My uncle saved my sister and me from the president's people." responded the boy, with a grim look on his face. His grief became obvious.

"It's a genocide taking place in this country, Frank! How could they been able to hide it from the international community?" Robert said shocked.

"Easy, it is the system, my dear lawyer. The government controls all of it. Broadcasters, internet providers, media holdings, I bet they can pretty much create a thick curtain of information. That's why, they have not been able to do much, that's why they need us. It all makes sense now." Frank shrugged.

"The whole network fell in the wrong hands, in the hands of a crazy dictator. Fuck!" Frank added with anger.

"But we will do something, you can count on that. This prick president will not get away with it. I bet you that." Robert added decisively.

They walked slowly until they reached the end of the room where the boy knocked on a door three times which slowly cracked open. They were able to get into another room far from the rest.

The room looked like a dining room. There was a table in the middle of the room. The accommodations seemed simple but served their purpose well although the light was a little yellow faded. On the table, already some plates had been served. There were some roasted chickens, salads, bread on one side and about five bottles of wine as a welcome.

"Please excuse the simplicity of our plates. But, given the conditions we face, it's quite a feat we could get chicken for you today guys." said Armando.

The leader of the resistance, Armando, was a short and slim man of Mayan race. He looked tough and fearless, determined like a strong willed leader, showing his authority and assuming responsibility for his people.

He was a former soldier, Frank noticed. Also, there were three other people in the room, two of them women and another male. They all looked unassuming and timid as they looked a bit scared at Frank and Robert, but none of them said a word.

They all had dinner and a friendly chat until it was time for business.

Armando's expression got serious and so the rest of the people. The two women looked a little scared as Armando asked Jose to bring his briefcase.

Jose stood up and left the room for a moment. The silence invaded the room until Jose got back with the briefcase, a metallic reinforced briefcase bulletproof and fireproof with security wide locks. Jose handed the briefcase to Armando, then the two of them started entering numbers in the two locks until the briefcase opened.

"Gentlemen, let me present you this in legal terms. This is what I call our case, our passport to peace and the president's Trujillo condemnation." his eyes brightened. There was a glare of hope in them.

"What exactly are you talking about, Mr. Armando? What do we have on him?" asked Robert, showing interest.

Armando leaned forward to emphasize his words.

"Mr. Robert Higgins, we have conclusive evidence that Martin Trujillo ordered the murders of the opposition leaders, even more, we have recorded all conversations from the moment he planned it, the time he hired a North African mercenary group to carry out the murders, the time the murders were confirmed, everything to the very detail of it. We can prove everything with what is in here, in this briefcase."

Robert interrupted "It is good evidence what you have in here, no doubt about it, but it will not be sufficient. We need at least one testimony to back the evidence. Otherwise, it can be refuted as obtained through illegal means and being dismissed as circumstantial evidence without some backup. Look, Mr. Armando, evidence is provided in a trial as a way of reaffirming a witness testimony and not the other way around. Evidence must be gathered and presented to back up a case. It's important we are clear on that." explained Robert.

"I understand, Mr. Higgins, I'm glad we are talking seriously, let me introduce you Mr. Homero Garcia. Mr. Garcia defected from the political intelligence office to us six months ago. Mr. Garcia was the man in charge of hiring the mercenary group to perform the killings on behalf of the President Trujillo. He went to Morocco and can identify members of such mercenary group, he can testify to very detail the arrangements and how it all went, providing unknown details to somebody not involved in it. He is a key witness, his testimony and the evidence make a perfect match. That can be proved in any court," said Armando.

"That is a very interesting game changer but, can he be trusted? Is he really willing to testify?" asked Robert under the interested sight of all the people present.

"I'll let Mr. Garcia himself answer that question." Armando shrugged.

Everybody looked at Mr. Garcia.

"After I did that I felt very guilty, I could not stand what started to happen. We were told differently, I was tricked into it. Just two months later, a hit squad stormed my house, they were after me, I was not there. They killed my only son that night. When I arrived home, I found him dead. They tried to frame me, to accuse me of being the murderer of my own son but I escaped, looking for help from the opposition. Undoubtedly, I would make things right for my boy and that's how I found the opposition, that's how I joined them." said Garcia firmly.

"Hmm, all right, he is willing to do it, no doubt. Who are these other people, Armando?" said Robert, pointing at them with his fingers.

This was Robert Higgins, the lawyer taking control of a probable case, analyzing its viability, sticking to the facts and what they had.

"These people are also your witnesses, Mr. Higgins," pointed Armando,

"They have witnessed key actions and killings by the president's people. Two of them worked very close to them and have important evidence against him," concluded Armando.

"Very well, we might have a case here. I'm so glad about it, but, we'll have to leave this country first, gentlemen!" Frank interrupted, objecting somewhat ironically.

"The Political Intelligence Office thugs must be looking for them. It's not going to be that easy to get them out of the country," Frank added and Robert seemed troubled.

"We have given that to Mr. Frank and Mr. Higgins. We have a sound plan for it." Armando said.

"So, what's the plan, Armando? You can talk about that to me, soldier to soldier." Frank cut in the conversation.

Armando was surprised that Frank noticed it but decided to ignore the fact. After all, they were allies.

"Not far from here, there is a luxury villa compound. Very wealthy and connected people live there, many of them high rank officials to the regime."

"They use their villas as vacation homes. They don't actually live there all year round, just for periods when the ocean is good for sailing and boating." Robert looked at Armando as if he was talking nonsense, urging clarification.

"Here comes the interesting part. There is a big boat marina and port. One of the top officers for the regime owns a very large yacht. He travels every October from that port to Miami, Florida, where he spends a lot of time since he owns a condo over there. We have two allies there who are maintenance crew for the yacht. Over the past months, they have been busy constructing a fake bottom for the yacht which is big enough to host up to ten people in it, with sufficient oxygen to reach Miami." Armando explained.

"The plan is to reach Miami, traveling incognito. Once there, seek political asylum."

"That sounds very nice, Armando, but how can we avoid being spotted by the coast guard? I've heard they are checking every boat entering or leaving Mexico. They have installed a strict curfew." Frank asked.

"Ha! Good question, my friend, but you haven't asked whose boat this is. I'll tell you. It's the coast guard chief's and they don't pull over their chief's boat!"

A huge laugh invaded the room. The plan seemed just perfect.

"Sounds nice enough to me, Armando. Let's do it!"

"They call you Big Luck, right?"

"That's right."

"And you'll all need it!"

9.

CAMPECHE, MEXICO

Another night fell on the camp although it could barely be noticed through the few windows on the ceiling above them. It got dark as the hours reviewing the plan details passed inside the room, where Robert Higgins interviewed the prospect witnesses for the huge case against president Trujillo and Frank went through the plan with Armando, over and over again.

The pieces seemed to be finally falling in their places and Robert's conviction on the case grew as he spent most of the evening asking detailed questions to the four witnesses, until their answer satisfied him.

"Ok, I am sure now. We have something!" concluded Robert after his final examination of the key witness, Homero Garcia. He nodded satisfied and for the first time, a genuine smile appeared on Armando's face.

"Very good, Mr. Higgins, I am sure things will change for the better once the world knows what is happening here and what president Trujillo has done."

"I couldn't agree more, Armando!" exclaimed Robert enthusiastically. Frank "Big Luck" Smith interrupted again.

After a few minutes, the meeting ended. Everybody was exhausted after so many hours planning and reviewing, but none went to bed unsatisfied. There was just too much to think about, to hope about.

The days passed quickly as they got familiar with the people and their stories.

People treated them like heroes, specially the children, who made every effort to get Frank or Robert's attention. A little boy, called Gerardo, named a toy after Frank. He named it Frankie. It was a toy action figure. The gesture touched Frank deeply, almost to the point of tears.

"I'm no hero kid... yet..." Frank responded, in an almost fatherly tone, to the small refugee kid.

10.

CAMPECHE, MEXICO

Time passed in the blink of an eye and the date for their departure had come. Frank, Robert, Jose and the rest said a touching goodbye early in the morning to their new friends in the opposition's bunker.

A ray of hope illuminated the bunker as if the sun could have made its way through the thick concrete structure.

Jose, however, had been distant, thoughtful and deep within his own thoughts and ghosts Tiredness could be perceived in the other witnesses as well.

The mood in the camp was a mixture of happiness, hope, uncertainty and disbelief. It was that to most of them, the U.S. just seemed like a very distant place, like some distant planet that appeared only in movies.

"The truck is ready, my dear friends, the time to go has arrived. You will be in our prayers," Armando said. He walked towards one of the exits, where a truck filled with chicken was waiting for them.

They would hide beneath the cargo until they approached the luxury compound about three hours away from their current location. Once close, they would disguise themselves as cleaning service crew. Once in the place, they would be approached by their allies at the Marina. From then on, they would tell them what to do to in order to get on board.

Minutes later, the truck was traveling along the highway on its way to Marina del Golfo Yacht Club and condo.

The trip was simple, but the three hours passed slowly for them inside the truck. Outside the day was clear, sunny and warm but they didn't pay any attention to it.

They finally reached a warehouse, just hundreds of meters away from the luxury compound and marina. The truck went inside and they got down There was an old lady, waiting for them.

She handed uniforms to them from a cleaning service company and they all put them on. Finally, they got on a grey van with the cleaning company logo on it, which headed for the condos entrance gate. The plan required quick feet. Questions and acquaintances later, no time to stop for a cigarette.

The van departed towards the villas. There were two security guards at the main entrance, asking for an ID to allow vehicles into the compound. The van approached and the driver handed an ID at the guard's request. The guard cleared the entrance and the van, which was allowed into the Marina compound, moved towards a small mechanical service warehouse, where the two allies were already waiting for them. Time was ticking out and they would have to take advantage of the guard shift.

When they got into the place, two grease monkeys welcomed them.

"Glad you made it," said one of them.

"Are we ready?" asked Frank.

"Almost there. A friend of ours is taking the camera out. Once he is ready, he will let us know and we'll be good to go to the docks."

"Any moment now, there is going to be a change of guards. That's why we have to hurry before the new guard arrives."

A whistle was heard, indicating the camera was deactivated.

"Hurry, now, let's move."

They all walked carefully, following the two mechanics to the docks, until they stopped by a huge yacht. It had two floors of, satellite dishes and it was about sixty feet long. They jumped into the water. Frank and the rest followed and got into the fake bottom of the yacht.

The place looked fit, not quite a nice accommodation at all, but enough to carry them safely all the way through the Gulf of Mexico.

"Ok guys, from now on, you'll have to remain here to avoid being detected. It move violently with the tide. Just sit tight all the way to Miami."

"God bless you all and good luck!"

About half an hour passed in silence but suddenly, two men got pretty close. Their voices could be heard clearly from the fake bottom. Everybody got a little bit anxious, except for Frank. He quietly asked them to remain calm. There was silence.

On top of the ship the crew was boarding, the captain and his crew, waiters, service personnel and even a pianist.

The owner, a millionaire and a high rank officer was a womanizer, who liked to delight his female conquests with a romantic dinner on board. He didn't like to be interrupted so the coast guard had precise orders of not bothering him once he was on the yacht no matter what. Armando was right.

Soon, the sunlight faded and night came. At about eight, a helicopter started its descent upon the helipad on the yacht, making the whole ship resonate with the descending sound of the machine.

The engine of the helicopter stopped.

A beautiful blonde woman, dressed in a striped red dress descended first, her beauty was breathtaking. After her, Alvaro Ortega got out of the helicopter, himself a handsome man as well, he liked to spoil himself with every toy money could buy. He was medium height, brown haired male. He enjoyed telling the story of his Italian ancestors, especially to women. He went down the stairs easily and quickly to get into the yacht main entertaining room, which had a movie theater in it, a bar, pool tables and stuff only Alvaro could know how to use. Photos of beautiful women were displayed on the walls, fine taste photos, artistic ones. He had always defined himself as an admirer of women's beauty.

The sound of the ship horn was heard. The ship was ready to go. Next Stop: Miami, Florida, United States of America...

Meanwhile, on the other side of the world...

ATHENS, GREECE

"Athens is just so beautiful this time of year. You can almost breathe history around here. Don't you think so, Benjamin?" Mr. Salomon Hajji, the old Israeli-Mexican industrial tycoon asked Benjamin, his driver, to start a little chat, as the black and long car smoothly cruised through the streets of Athens.

"I can never be tired of being in Athens. Besides, it's been a long time. I'm beginning to think our Lucia knows me just too well..." Mr. Hajji shrugged in contempt. Then he reached for the middle seat compartment and grabbed a cigar as the sun roof slid open in a gently and soundless motion. Historical buildings slid outside the car windows as it rushed through the Kolonaki borough, just at the steps of the Licabeto mount. The fading afternoon sunrays shone over the historical stones that shaded a beautiful color tone.

The car finally stopped outside an old big building serving as a five star hotel, locally known for its bar. Benjamin got out first and walked to open the car door for Mr. Hajji, to help the old man get out of the car.

Mr. Hajji walked with the aid of a golden top cane and moved slowly towards the entrance of the classical Greek building as Benjamin assisted him in the first steps only. Mr. Hajji would keep walking by himself after that.

Mr. Hajji walked towards the piano bar. It was an elegant place, a mix of classic Greek architecture and modern details, where a sophisticated piano created a nice refined atmosphere to enjoy a fine wine, a nice cigar and a good conversation.

Sitting at a table just by the window was an extremely attractive young woman. Her hair was black and her glance profound.

She turned around to the bar entrance and saw Salomon Hajji walking to meet her.

A smile was drawn on her face. Salomon noticed it and smiled as well. He was just glad to see her again. He knew she had interesting news for him.

"Oh my Lucia! It is so nice to see you again, my beautiful lady." Mr. Hajji said as he sat on a chair next to Lucia.

She was beautiful indeed. She looked like a model, tall and stylish, black long and shiny hair, delicate features and a deeply seductive intense glance framed by a beautiful pair of expressive big black eyes.

"Salomon. It's nice to see you, too." Lucia said naturally, as if she had seen Salomon Hajji just last night.

"I love it when a beautiful woman like you call me Salomon. You know that it makes an old man like me feel young again, my beautiful Lucia." responded Mr. Hajji, leaning in courtesy, with a smile on his face.

"So, tell me Lucia, how was your trip? Did you find anything interesting about this man?" the conversation was interrupted by a waiter, who approached the table.

"What would you like to drink, sir?" he asked in Greek. Mr. Hajji responded in flawless Greek ordering a scotch on the rocks. The waiter left towards the bar as Lucia continued the conversation.

"Actually, I have found something unexpected. It seems that your man, Antonio Cazador, is playing games with you all. The account he opened, under the CAZA & Guajardo name fund, is completely empty. He fooled you in. What I still don't get is... what's he up to, it makes no sense..." said Lucia somewhat confused.

"Still, Salomon, I can't understand why this man is of interest for someone as powerful as you." Mr. Hajji ignored her question.

"Are you sure, my Lucia?" he asked intrigued.

"Oh, yes, I am sure, I just cannot prove it." She added.

Mr. Hajji shrugged.

"Oh, my, that is a problem. I need evidence now that Antonio is so close to the president. How do you think we could prove his deeds, Lucia?" Lucia thought for a moment and she came up with an answer.

"We would need access to the account, then get reports. I need the password to get into the account. For that, I would need the password device Antonio has." she explained. Mr. Hajji gave her a suspicious look.

"Well, Lucia, we'll have it your way, my dear. What would you need to get the device from Antonio?"

Lucia answered immediately.

"Money, my dear Salomon, money, of course"

"How much are we talking about?"

"A million US dollars and, of course, the payment for my services, two million, Salomon."

Mr. Hajji smiled impressed by her braveness but he knew, far too well, she was well worth it. He nodded.

"Of course, my beautiful, money won't be a problem. I will double the payment for your services with pleasure if you get more evidence, of course."

"Consider it a deal, Salomon."

"All right, by tomorrow afternoon you will have half of it, the usual way." Mr. Hajji raised his right hand and made a discrete sign, with his fingers, for Benjamin to approach the table to help him to stand up.

Benjamin got to the table, politely nodded hello to Lucia and assisted Salomon Hajji to stand up. Mr. Hajji grabbed his golden topped cane, ending the conversation.

"I have to catch a flight, Lucia. Stay beautiful until we meet again, my girl." and he walked away from the table, leaving a thoughtful Lucia behind.

11.

CAMPECHE, MEXICO

Back in the opposition camp, hope got high when the good news arrived. The team had boarded the ship safely and now the trip had begun. In just two days, they would be reaching U.S. shores and everything will change then.

The world would know the truth about president Trujillo and the hardships he imposed on the legitimate opposition. Hopefully, Robert Higgins and his law firm would build a huge case against President Martin Trujillo that could bring about his downfall and the rise of liberty again and for good. The people cheered up.

Leader Armando Jimenez briefed the people in the camp every time he knew something, anything that might cheer the mood up was welcomed. The news about Robert, Frank and the witnesses were taken with enthusiasm by everybody except for Alejandro Martinez, Antonio Cazador's spy and inside man.

Alejandro had been for months assigned to the food provision unit under the camp's organization. His task, along with many other people assigned to that unit, consisted in keeping the food flowing to the camp.

They developed many strategies to achieve that. They even created a little façade chicken trading company, sometimes, travelled long distances to get enough food. Everything was done under the utmost discretion.

The work involved being outside, moving constantly; a situation that often provided the perfect opportunity for a traitor or a spy to report for his true master.

Alejandro reported everything to Antonio Cazador, his master, the one who bought Alejandro's loyalty, offering dimes in exchange for betrayal.

The food gathering task unit left early that morning. Their goal for the day was fruits and that implied driving for about an hour to a town nearby.

The unit left as usual, there was no news. They had the truck ready and left on schedule to be back by midday, tops.

Alejandro had a different plan for that food trip day. He carried a gun concealed in his clothes, a small .22 caliber revolver. Three innocent people left with him that morning but none returned to camp where their beloved ones awaited them.

Alejandro would cowardly murder them as they approached the town before anybody could see what happened. He shot the first one in the back of the truck, he pulled the trigger before his eyes until a bullet crossed his skull, smashing his brain on the spot. Then, he coldly headed to the front of the truck. The two other were on alert, panicking. He made them get into the truck and gunned them into the back of the truck. They were unarmed, unaware of the betrayal and their cruel fate in the hands of a coward scumbag. Inside the van, he executed them, a man and a woman, murdered cowardly in cold blood. The woman was pregnant. He didn't care.

Their bodies were left on the truck, bleeding to death. "You will pay for it, you'll be damned for this!" He could still hear the last words of one of them, drilling in his head as he walked away into a town.

Not far from there, was a small town that lived from the fruit trading. Tropical fruits of all kinds could be found there: bananas, mango, strawberry, even, kiwis. They were sold in tents, arranged one after another. Most of the people were Mayan, some of them Caribbean dark skinned.

Life seemed quiet there. Kids played all around the streets at every hour. It was a no stopping food market town, lots of people selling fruits and likes on the street.

Downtown they had a cafeteria and there was a pay phone in the corner.

Alejandro got to the phone, still shaking, and fast dialed a number. He was still breathing excited.

He found himself in a hurry as it was about midday, they could get suspicious at the camp. He waited anxiously as the call got through. Seconds later, the call was answered.

"Hola...?" A male Spanish accent was heard at the other side of the line.

"Don Antonio, it is Alejandro." he responded quickly.

"Oh, yes, Alejandro, I was precisely thinking about you. What news do you have for me?"

"Sir, they have departed, they will arrive in two days," his voice itchy as he reported.

"Also, I am sure Jose listened to the tape. I made sure of it",

"Perfecto!" Antonio rejoiced.

"Please, report the location of the camp to the Political Intelligence Office at once and leave the place."

"Sir, what about our arrangement?" he asked.

"You will be paid, in full, one million U.S. dollars in Villahermosa as we arranged. You know where. You will receive your payment there once the camp is done. Well done, now shut up." Antonio instructed and concluded the conversation.

Alejandro hung up and dialed a different number, The Political Intelligence Office. He anonymously tipped the location of the camp.

What Alejandro was unaware that the whole conversation was heard by a grocery merchant right in back that needed to use the phone.

Alejandro was so upset that he did not realize he was standing that close until he hung up. When he finished his second call, he turned around just to meet the merchant's big and angered face.

The merchant took out a knife before Alejandro could reach his gun, and he stabbed him in the stomach, wounding him badly.

The merchant reached Alejandro's back and grabbed his gun, throwing it meters away as people stopped by to see.

The merchant was well known in the town so people gathered around him while he explained Alejandro's betrayal, igniting the multitude rage.

From afar, a bunch of men were rushing into the town carrying a badly wounded man, one of Alejandro's team. He was barely breathing but still alive.

The bunch of men reached the scene where Alejandro was bleeding, wounded but alive, and slowly put the agonizing man on the floor for him to see what faith his assassin would face before dying.

Alejandro was crawling on the floor, "I told you. You would pay for this!"

One of the villagers walked towards Alejandro with a gasoline filled can. Alejandro started to scream as he saw the man approaching him with the can and some matches on his other hand. The people kept furiously insulting, swearing at him, expectant to see the traitor burn. Soon, gasoline started to stream down his body from his head, mixing with his cold sweat.

Suddenly, a fire blaze wrapped him up. Some screams and then silence.

Alejandro's victim also died in the meanwhile. The people from the town regretted it but they regretted the fate of the people in the camp more. Nobody to call, no way to warn them of the coming storm, no number to dial for help...

12.

THE PRESIDENTIAL PALACE, MEXICO CITY

The unexpected call, revealing the location of the opposition camp, immediately energized the Political Intelligence Office.

The information was received around midday and, by three in the afternoon, it had passed through the usual filters flawlessly. Not only was the physical location of the phone call received, but also the coordinates, the anonymous tipster provided, landed in the zone the Political Intelligence Office analysts had tagged as a possible location for the opposition base. However, the fact that it was a bunker, provided by the tipster, explained why their satellites had not been able to spot the clandestine base until then.

It was clear they had found the clandestine base. The president had to know at once.

Minutes later, General Esteban Amaro, the commander in chief for the Political Intelligence Office, rushed through the hallways of the presidential residence, towards the President's Office.

He interrupted the President's scheduled meeting with his Cabinet and chiefs of staff with extraordinary news, which required immediate attention and decision. What an occasion to make an impression, especially in front of the army secretary, an old rival.

The communicator sounded with urgency inside the president's office, distracting him from his briefing. He hurried to press the button and in a demanding tone asked,

"What is it, Teresa?" he frowned.

"You know I don't like being interrupted..." He tried to control his temper.

"What is so important?"

"Mr. President, General Amaro is here to see you. He says it is most urgent you receive him."

"General Amaro is here without an appointment? Hum... let him in Teresa." ordered Martin Trujillo.

"Gentlemen, this meeting has come to an end, we will resume it later. Provide immediately what I decided. All non security council personnel leave the office at once."

Most part of the cabinet left the office. Only the Army secretary, the general attorney and the secretary for internal affairs remained in the office with the president.

The wood door of the office slowly cracked open and General Esteban Amaro stepped in, still out of breath by the hurried walk.

"Mr. President, I'm sorry to interrupt your meeting but something extremely important came up," the general expressed solemnly.

Martin Trujillo shrugged and, looking directly to Amaro's eyes, said, "It'd better be important, General. You just interrupted a president's meeting. What is it?" demanded President Martin Trujillo.

"It's the opposition leaders, sir, we just found them a couple of hours ago!"

Everybody's face appeared astonished, surprised by such events.

"Calm first. This is serious. Are you sure, General?" the president asked intrigued.

"Yes, sir, it's positive. Our scouts have confirmed. They are hiding inside a bunker in Campeche. They have been there for months. We located the bunker and as of now my people are taking photographs and studying the place. We are waiting for your orders, Mr. President."

A mixture of emotions were reflected on Martin Trujillo's face, all of them powerful. A sense of relief could be distinguished but the expression didn't last more than seconds, then anger appeared on his face. Finally, those people would stop daring him, they would learn an unforgettable lesson. Whoever opposes him, dies. He would make an example of them. Martin Trujillo will be feared. Let them know how cruel he can be. The direction of the answer became self-evident on his face.

"All right, General, we will storm the bunker to the very last corner. We will not bomb it. Bombs fail sometimes. I want ground troops there, making sure no one escapes alive!"

"Yes, sir. We will arrest some of them for interrogation." General Amaro dared to add, annoying the President.

"Didn't you hear me?! Everybody dead, no exceptions, you can do whatever you want with them before the killing but make you sure that when you leave the bunker, nobody will be left there alive." The President expressed bluntly.

Turning to the secretary of the army, he ordered.

"Assist general Amaro with whatever he requests. That is an order!"

"Yes, sir!" responded the secretary of the army.

Oblivious to him, the Secretary of Internal Affairs pronounced no word during the whole conversation. He used to be a man who liked to express his opinions but it seemed that, on that day, cat got his tongue. Truth is, he was busy recording the conversation keenly and quietly gathering evidence against President Trujillo.

He had silently pressed the record button of the diminutive voice recorder he always carried with him.

Since the very moment General Amaro crossed the door, every word pronounced had been recorded by the microphone, secretly concealed in one of the buttons of his jacket. Perhaps, some day such recordings could prove valuable, when the shit hits the fan...

General Amaro rushed back to the Political Intelligence Office headquarters, dispatching clear orders. Everybody must start preparations immediately, in coordination with the army, for a full-scale attack on the opposition bunker. We know the coordinates.

The military garrison in Campeche bullied against time to get the assault preparations ready. Troops prepared their enhanced machine guns and hand grenades. War painting covered their faces, helmets, vests, trucks, helicopters, explosives, RPGs, and every other weapon necessary to suck the life out of the hated enemy, whoever it might be.

Troops deployed in the airfield ready to depart. Black helicopters already waited for them.

Operation Cleaning was a go...

13.

GULF OF MEXICO, THE ATLANTIC OCEAN

Many hours later, there was finally sunlight. They couldn't see it directly but they could tell by the color of the ocean water. The night had passed smoothly, almost boring, as if the ocean had become their ally.

The huge yacht was now cruising international waters away from Mexican waters. There was optimism inside the fake bottom of the yacht. Robert and Jose were counting minutes, so did Frank and the rest. They spoke little, in a very low voice, managing to communicate but they still remained undetected.

Things went well, as planned. But, suddenly, a violent movement stopped the ship. They felt it violent even though it was the normal ship brakes working to halt the propeller of the ship and the ship itself. They heard the anchor splashing into the water and, a few minutes later, the yacht stopped completely.

The day was clear, sunny and beautiful, just perfect for swimming and on deck activities.

Alvaro and Josephine woke up in dizziness after a rough sex night, both appeared on deck on the balcony of the bedroom. She was wearing a red bikini, he was wearing plain shorts and both had champagne glasses in their hands—joie de vivre!

Two storey below, footsteps were heard on the ceiling of the fake bottom. "My goodness!" articulated a witness' mouth but couldn't go through. They hid their surprise so as not to make any noise. Frank took his finger to his mouth, instructing everybody to remain dead quiet. Voices could be heard just inches above them.

"Hey, Luis, the floor sounds shallow over here." one of the crew members said to another, "Is it ok for it to sound shallow?" another voice said, stepping on the shallow sounding floor.

"Sometimes, I guess. Anyway, we are not mechanics, but we still have to report it." concluded a third one. The voices got farther until they couldn't be heard anymore.

Panic erupted in the small space beneath the fake bottom of the ship.

"Jesus! Now what." said Robert in despair. The rest looked at him, fear started to take over them but Frank's expression remained calm.

He was thinking their way out of the situation. He knew well that the mechanics would take a look at the floor. They would notice the fake bottom, discovering their hiding place. They had about an hour left before that happened. Frank's eyes encountered those of Robert's and the rest. They would have to speed up the plan, time just ran out.

"Listen, we will steal the motor boat. I'm going to need your help," everybody stared at him, paying close attention.

"I will get on deck while the ship is not moving. I will neutralize the guards around the emergency boat and seize it, then, once it is in water, you will follow Robert to it. We should be hours away from Miami at full speed. I know that kind of boats can be really fast." "Just stay here and wait for my signal, then, just follow Robert." they were left awestruck by Frank's boldness, no wonder they called him Frank "Big Luck" Smith. But they had no other chance to avoid capture and, probably, even death.

Frank "Big Luck" Smith jumped into the water without hesitation and disappeared, swimming like a fish. In no time, his figure was out of sight. He got out of the ship without pulling his head of the water, trying to find something to serve him as a ladder up to the yacht main deck and from there he would walk to the emergency boat. The rest would be piece of cake.

He climbed onto the deck, undetected like a true professional. He took the hallway, where he encountered a guard with his back towards him.

Frank neutralized him fast, applying a clutch on his neck. The thug fell unconscious to the floor. It all happened really fast, the series of events took only seconds. Frank was a trained soldier and he executed automatically with deadly efficiency.

He grabbed the gun from the unconscious thug and continued his swift stealth assault to seize the boat.

There was another armed guard walking slowly nearby who saw Frank coming but before he could even take his gun out, he was blackened out by an expert move Frank made. Both thugs proved to be no match for Frank, who moved swiftly with trained skills.

He was alone now before the boat. He quickly jumped into it and removed the ropes and locks that kept it lifted in the yacht. The boat fell violently splashing the water on the side of the yacht.

Robert and the rest heard the boat hit the water just a few meters from them, outside the ship. That was the signal Robert was expecting. He grabbed one of the women to help her and jumped into the water, the rest followed immediately.

Up in the deck the sound of the hit surprised the crew who sounded the alarm. Alvaro and Josephine were having sex again on their room unaware that the yacht was being robed.

Frank and Robert assisted Homero Garcia, the last witness to board the boat. The motors roared with fury as Frank applied full speed. In a matter of seconds, the motor boat was moving like a torpedo over the sea away from the yacht.

By the time the armed guards got to the side deck, the boat was already many meters away from them. One of them discharged angrily his handgun aiming at the runaway boat. It was useless the boat looked smaller by the second to them.

"Wow! That was really close!" Robert said loudly, enthusiastic as he felt the rush of adrenaline running through his bloodstream.

The rest of the witnesses didn't share his enthusiasm, their faces looked pale from the scare. And they were right about it. They barely escaped thanks to Frank "Big Luck" Smith who saved the day again.

Frank and Robert bragged for some minutes about how they escaped as the boat kept motioning in route to Miami's shores, the rest remained quiet, none of the witnesses said a word, not even Jose.

The sky was clear and the sea was quiet, and, after some hours at the sea, they could see Miami right ahead of them. They were not detected by the U.S. Coast Guard; nothing stood in their way.

Miami, finally Miami...

14.

A COLD MIDNIGHT IN PARIS, FRANCE

The lights on the Eiffel Tower lit the night in Paris for the lovers that shared stories and romances on their late night walks on the Champs Elyse gardens, under the jealous Parisian night sky.

The lights in the tower also illuminated the terrace of Salomon Hajji's penthouse in Paris. Mr. Hajji was extremely happy years ago when he bought the place for seven million dollars. It had a view of the Eiffel Tower. It had something to do with a dream he once had as a child that left an impression on him.

The decoration of the flat was exquisite, lots of art works enriched every corner and the furniture was just proper of a refined elegant taste. Salomon Hajji loved it so much that he made sure he visited the place every time he was in Europe, no matter what. Loyal to his self-imposed tradition, he honored it by being there and having a fine French wine on the terrace and waiting, nervously, for a phone call.

The night was cold but he did not care. Midnight came and the cell phone was finally ringing, ending his quiet moment.

"Yes?" he answered in a tranquil manner as if talking to a friend.

"Salomon, it's nice to hear you are ok" a deep but soft male voice responded politely.

"We believe you might have good news for us now that you have met your contact." The same voice added. There was curiosity in the tone of the voice.

"I'm afraid there is no news yet, something resulted a little more complicated than I thought." Salomon said disguising his nervousness. He knew it was a risky game to ask for more time, specially, when Antonio Cazador seemed to be getting away with whatever he was planning.

"How much time, Salomon?"

"We'll know soon. Trust me, I've got my best agent working full time on it."

"Remember, Salomon, Antonio Cazador holds the key to our true enemy's identity. We must..." the voice seemed to crack for a second but quickly recovered.

"I'm aware, my old friend... we will find out soon who is behind him... even if it costs my life..."

15.

MIAMI, FLORIDA. U.S.A.

Robert Higgins was finally meeting his wife Meredith and his son Tim after his days, escaping from Mexico. They were flying over to Miami from New York to meet Robert.

Tears of joy streamed down Meredith's face as soon as she heard Robert's voice on the phone, letting her know he was back in the U.S. safe. He was not alone, Frank "Big luck" Smith, Jose Murgia and the other witnesses accompanied him. The witnesses had requested political asylum and the chances were great of it being granted by the U.S. Government.

Everything went all right with the escape, a huge success thanks to the skills of Frank "Big Luck" Smith, who helped them all the way. Frank was also glad to be back in the U.S. after years drifting in Mexico since his wife's death.

During Robert's absence, Meredith had kept Robert's partners informed at Byron & Schiff attorneys at law. Peter Byron had maintained a keen interest in Robert's faith and always cared for Meredith and little Tim during those long days.

The Byron & Schiff Law firm always kept a very international oriented profile unlike many other U.S. Law firms, relying solely on U.S. common law practice. Through the years after Peter Byron and Brian Schiff got together to start the firm, they cemented the firm's practice and direction on the vision that law practice would join the globalization by going truly global. Savvy law firms would become a necessity for entrepreneurs, politicians and governments alike, wishing to succeed in an ever changing and global economy.

Until then, the firm's cases had been mostly business related, but now, they have decided to take Robert's case, meaning they would make a risky incursion into global politics. The stakes were high and, no doubt the case they decided to represent, put them in a delicate situation, given the sensible subject of the case and the political implications it would naturally also had. But it also meant global prestige if handled properly.

They would have to decipher the correct way to deal with the pressures that might arise once the case is presented, including media and politics. A deliberate plan was absolutely required, all possible outcomes contemplated, the case looked solid enough to stand questions by anyone no doubt, the witnesses showed no signs of cold feet, they would not crack under pressure, won't bend to insults, disqualifications or menaces, they have already lost everything, nothing left for them to fear of, just the failure to denounce a hideous dictator and his atrocities to dismast the tyrant before the world, to see the face of true terror.

Meredith couldn't help it. She ran towards Robert, kissed him to exhaustion, until her face blended with his, so did little Timmy. The airport looked small to host their happiness. The familiar reunion happened in front of everybody, inspiring confused emotions on the viewers, none of them could ever again expect such reception. Meredith noted their grim faces and tried to restrain her happiness just a little bit. She had always been a sympathetic person, sensible to other people's needs, she understood at the onset, no further word required.

The airport was busy with indifferent people from everywhere rushing through the countless terminals to catch their flights. It was a crowded place and yet a lonely place, frequented by lonely travelers, minding their own, alienating themselves from the rest. Airliners landed and took off by the minute. Some people arrived, some people left, business as usual, the vast hallways and the screens flashed signs updating the status of flights, delayed, boarding, etc... cold color signs glowed at an unstoppable rhythm.

Robert was seeing the planes move through the windows as the moving sidewalk took them all towards gate five, where the flight two hundred and three from Continental airways was awaiting passengers for New York JFK airport. He was deep in his thoughts and walked holding Meredith's hand like a couple of newlyweds on their way to their honeymoon, in between was Timmy, their son, glad to have his daddy back home safe.

Frank Smith was also deep in his thoughts, he barely said more than a few words through the entire situation and they were now boarding the plane to New York. The others were also silent; they were nervous, anxious.

"We still have to present the case..."

16.

NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK

The airliner landed at JFK on October 5 late at night. Robert called Peter Byron, his boss, the man in charge of the firm affairs, as soon as they landed.

Peter Byron had already made arrangements for Frank and the Mexican witnesses to stay in a rented house in the Upper West Side of Manhattan on the 115th street until their situation could be defined.

The firm would need them in the best physical and mental conditions possible to face what was about to come, which implied lots of pressure. Robert warned them all to be very discrete and not to say a word related to the case to anyone.

Robert Higgins and his family finally got home after arranging everything for Frank and the rest of the witnesses. They stayed for a while and even had a cup of coffee with them, everybody shared deep emotions about being there and what the future might hold for them and their country.

"Finally home with my family!" a notably happy Robert expressed, stretching his legs in the house. Port Washington, NY. remained a picturesque beautiful suburb, a place just by the ocean in Long Island. It was a nice quiet place to live just half an hour away from the great New York City. Maple trees looked golden in autumn as their leaves covered the houses driveways, a scene typical of the American suburb.

After a few days that felt like an eternity for Robert, after such adventures lived in Mexico, he was finally back to a normal life or so he thought. At least for that moment, it seemed all normal again.

He took a nice bath, had dinner with the family, and took Tim to bed at twelve o'clock. He stayed with him until he felt asleep, remembering how lucky he was. Images of children in the opposition camp appeared on his mind, reminding him of those days and what might come ahead.

He wondered how things would have turned for them back in Mexico, hidden in the camp. He was completely unaware of the cruel luck that descended upon them the same day they left the place.

It was morning. He had slept deeply, like few times before, replenishing his strength. The night before he fell asleep exhausted. Meredith had romantic plans ready for them but she had to give them up after Robert fell asleep like a baby, just by sitting in their bed. She was glad, though. She couldn't believe he was back.

The morning newspaper was on the table along with his scrambled eggs, his toasted bread and his hot still smoky coffee. He had breakfast at ten in the morning after waking up. Meredith made sure he slept until he woke up by himself.

Meredith was there, sitting at the table with him. They chatted for a moment and he read the newspaper while Meredith washed the dishes.

He would have a quick glance at the front page and fast read over the pages until he reached the sports section. That day, it wouldn't have been different, except for the fact that something in the international section caught his attention. He closed his eyes for a moment, wishing that it was not true what he was seeing but it was all there, printed in cold paper.

DRUG LORD'S BUNKER STORMED BY THE POLICE

Campeche, Mexico. October 7, 2026. Ed.

Yesterday organized crime received a serious blow. The federal police, along with the Mexican army, discovered and dismantled a bunker facility located in the jungle of Campeche. Government officials informed, on a press briefing yesterday afternoon in the facilities of the federal police in Mexico City, that the successful operation was a result of a coordinated effort between many intelligence agencies and police agencies across all government levels. "The Mexican government has proved to its citizens one more time that it is capable of orchestrated works against crime. Therefore, the government reassures its citizens that the fight against organized crime is a priority and that it will continue its nonstop fight against organized crime" General Esteban Amaro replied to a reporter when asked about rumors that aimed at the Political Intelligence Office involvement in the operation. He refused to respond a direct question regarding his office involvement and knowledge of the high number of human casualties during the operation. "We don't have a precise number yet, what I can assure you is that no civil casualty has been reported. We have knowledge everybody inside the bunker was a member of the drug cartel" he said. Human casualties, after the gun operation, are estimated to be around seventy, a situation that has generated mild criticism of the operation handling. No other official answered questions...

He recognized the place from the photos. He called Meredith over to show her the news. He looked anxious, pale, emotions articulated on his face as he felt indignity, then, anger but finally shame for those people. He explained to Meredith what was all that about.

"There were no drugs, drug dealing or any other kind of organized crime whatsoever, no drug lords, no criminals, no felons. What was there was civilian innocent people persecuted for their political beliefs, for opposing a cruel tyrant, forced by the very same persecution to abandon their life, their illusions, their freedom. There were women, children and old people, all political refugees, hidden in that bunker" he explained as Meredith looked shocked while listening to the explanation.

At eleven, the phone rang at the Higgins's house. Peter Byron was calling Robert to meet him at the firm's offices, where everybody was anxious to see Robert crossing those doors again. His Mexican adventure was by then widely known and his reputation was getting closer to that of a hero.

He took the train and got down at Penn Station, in the heart of New York City. He went up the stairs quickly and appeared on the 34th Street where he could see Macy's, a few meters away. He started to walk in that direction. New York felt all new to him, the grey tall buildings, the people, the colors of the city stroked him even though he had walked those same streets almost daily for many years. But it was just that he was glad to be back in town.

He crossed the streets of New York, paying attention to details he had never thought of before. After a few minutes there, he was at the doors of his firm's building on the 50th and Broadway, a grey tall art deco building towered in front of him, making him remember the first time he crossed those glass revolving doors. He took a breath and walked in. He didn't like show off, but that day he just couldn't avoid it. Peter Byron, the firm's president, had warned him that they would make him feel welcome and he knew very well what that meant, cheers, hushes and telling the same story over and over again, 'Oh my, here we go' he thought as he pressed the button of the elevator.

And so the elevator doors opened, letting him out into the wild crowd. Again, he could breathe the wooden scent of the walls, illuminated by the faded yellow lights of the lamps and felt the green rug under his feet, extending all the way to the huge windows with an enviable view of Central Park. He guessed right, the reception was enthusiast with cheers, hushes, and all kind of genuine expressions greeting him. No doubt he was back. He shared his adventures with his colleagues, he was able to transmit the indignity and the urgency of the case, everybody in the firm offered their help, it was becoming a must representation for the firm. Moments later, Peter Byron asked Robert to join him in his private office for a little private chat with him.

They got into Peter's office, a very elegant office with modern furniture that mixed all too well with the classical books he had put all around his office, on discrete book shelves. By the window, there was a strange plant, an eccentricity Peter brought from his trips to his house in Kenya. There was a rumor that the singer Peter Gabriel had given the plant to him, all were rumors he never cleared, he found enjoyable the little morbid pleasure in letting the people speculate about the plant's origins.

For somebody his age, it was a pleasure to hear his grandchildren tell weird stories about the plant every time they hung around granddaddy's office. The man was in his late 70s but he had an excellent physical condition although he no longer worked fourteen hours a day like he used to. He still remained in charge of affairs at the firm, everybody respected him and valued his expert guidance and advice. It was a shame, however, the situation of his longtime friend and partner Brian Schiff who had been unable to work for over a year due to his cancer.

Things marched well within the law firm and it was Peter's job to keep it that way. He offered a glass of scotch to Robert who accepted without hesitating as both men sat on a big couch Peter had in his office, a relic of his first office that still made him proud.

"I want you to know, Robert, how glad we are all to have you back safe with us, you are an excellent lawyer, invaluable to the firm and, most of all, a good friend. God heard our prayers and brought you back to your beautiful family and back to us as well. If there is anything you might need, Robert, please do not hesitate, just ask for it." Peter greeted Robert with nice words. Robert shrugged, touched by Peter's words and sipped shyly some whisky as a way to relax himself.

"Peter, I cannot thank you enough for your words and the support you offered Meredith while I was gone. I am glad to be back safe and be having this conversation with you." Peter returned a sincere smile to Robert and continued,

"Well, son, tell me about it, what happened back there?" he asked intrigued, so Robert started to tell the whole story to an awestruck Peter Byron. Almost an hour went by as Robert narrated with detail everything that had happened and what he had seen from the moment he received the letter.

Peter took a deep sip and exclaimed,

"It's a true miracle you are here safe, do you realize the risks you ran, and that friend of yours "Big Luck" I would call him "Big Balls" instead ha, ha, ha, wow movies couldn't do it better! Could they?"

"But, all right, you are here bringing a huge case with you. Indeed, a very delicate one I would like to discuss with you, we have plans to make and a lot of work to do." explained Peter as he reached and lit a cigarette.

"Listen carefully, Robert, this is my plan. Years ago I developed this strategy I'm about to tell you in case something like this comes up. For a moment I thought I would die without using it, but my time has come, it's a just cause, Robert, no matter what they do to us, always remember that." a paternal Peter Byron looked straight into Robert's eyes, decision could be seen in his eyes.

He was deadly serious about his plan, he had carefully designed it over the years and time came for it to serve its purpose. He took another sip that emptied his bourbon glass.

"After this, you will take a little vacation. I'm going to give you some time, trust me, you will need it to make sense of the strategy and the general U.N. assembly will get by. Then, I will need the best of you." A little time to make sense of it all, then the time for greatness would come, he could see it in the old lawyer's eyes.

... "there is a time for everything, Robert, you must get to know the importance timing has in this kind of things, especially in this kind of things... the proper time shall come, meanwhile, prepare yourself and your case to the utmost detail..."

17.

MADRID, SPAIN

"You know well, Antonio, that I have the support of most of the congressmen," The Mexican Secretary for Internal Affairs, Felipe Arturo Sabino Mendiola explained in a confident manner as he blew away from his mouth the cigarette's smoke and gently tapped off the ashes into the ashtray by the table.

"Many congressmen are feeling nervous by the way the president is handling the opposition. They fear he is taking things too far." he pointed as his robust body sat on a leather chair, next to Antonio Cazador.

Felipe Arturo was a robust man, a distinguished member of the president's political party and the most powerful man in Mexican politics, just behind the president himself. He and Martin Trujillo appeared to be good friends but bottom line it was more a convenient friendship and, more than anything, a convenient business deal subject to changing terms.

"How can you be so sure, Felipe?" Antonio Cazador asked, testing Felipe.

"I know that the president has you closely watched. Luckily for you, I am a resourceful man, otherwise this meeting and our little agreement could have not been possible." Antonio pronounced with sufficiency, making Felipe feel a little uneasy.

Felipe lit another cigarette as the sun started to fade outside the downtown building. Puerta de Alcala monument looked just fine outside the windows of GrupoCaza S.A. headquarters. That made Felipe remember his youth in Madrid and how it was when his father was the Mexican ambassador of Mexico in Spain. That's how Antonio met him many years ago, a friendship few knew about that became more and more convenient as Felipe progressed in Mexican politics, thanks to the prestige of his last names.

He was a member of a prestigious Mexican political family but, he had no money. As an unusual feat in Mexican politics, his father was a brilliant and respected man and he lived within what his means allowed him. He never took a dime and therefore he was never rich. Felipe grew influenced by his mother, an ambitious woman who never understood her husband's vision. Felipe was not a bright man but a very ambitious one who always grew at the shadow of his father.

"It's a lobbying matter, Antonio. The congress desperately wants somebody close who can help them influence the president."

"That would be you, Felipe, you can move easily between both sides."

"Exactly, Antonio! I have been in touch with each of the party's leaders. They tell me they would support somebody with a more moderate approach towards the opposition, I'll tell you this, they are scared to death, they just don't dare doing anything about it themselves but they will support anybody who does."

"That would be us, Felipe but, when the time is right, that is it."

"How is it going, Antonio? I am worried." Felipe inquired with curiosity.

"Everything is going just fine, Felipe. You don't have to worry about it. The plan is going well." Don Antonio responded with confidence.

"How is it, Antonio? Please explain it to me." insisted Felipe Arturo.

"All right, listen. The plaintiff already reached the United States along with the evidence of the killings. They must now be preparing the case as we speak. In two months there will be a general UN assembly and I am sure they will do something with the evidence I provided. President Trujillo will be absolutely destroyed and, that's when, you should stand up and achieve the presidency. You just have to make sure the congress will back you up."

"Right. If it was true, he would be forced to step down from the presidency and the congress would have to name a new interim president..." Felipe's expression turned excited. He sucked another cigarette's punch deeply and exhausted it up into the air. Then, Don Antonio cut in,

"You, my friend! You will become that interim president. Just keep working the congress. We have powerful interests backing us, you wouldn't imagine how powerful these people are." Antonio, then, fixated his penetrating gaze on Felipe's eyes and added.

"And remember our deal, you just have to discreetly grant us the uranium mining concessions we ask. That simple." Antonio pointed with a big complicity smile.

"Of course, Antonio! You know I have always been a business man. Tell your friends they'll get what they want if I'm president."

"They'll be glad."

"Me too."

"You should be, Mr. President..."

18.

MADRID, SPAIN

Lucia handed her passport to the Spanish customs officer, paying him a courtesy smile, not something to brag about as the young officer would have liked to obtain one from such a beautiful woman. The young customs officer did not pay much attention to the passport Lucia handed him, he was so astonished by Lucia's beauty that he just stamped the seal and allowed her to enter Spain easily, no questions asked. What damage could a woman, as beautiful as her, make except for, perhaps, breaking a few hearts?

The clock was pointing to five o'clock and Madrid was already dark when she left Barajas International Airport in a cab, on her way to Madrid downtown.

She had arranged a trip in style with a nice suite and sauna, waiting to greet her with a warm bath after her flight from Athens. Maybe, she would add some light red wine to help her relax and make the experience a little more comfortable.

So far things were running smoothly and the mission was beginning to look like an easy one, except for the fact that she still knew little about the target named Antonio Cazador.

She prepared like she always did, with her homework done thoroughly. She had read the complete file about Antonio Cazador. He was a womanizer and that was something good. He would surely be attracted to her, no problem. Also, he was a millionaire, big ego involved, that was good too, such people can be stubborn; they easily turn ridiculous things into ego matters just because they are bored. She knew that, had been there before, it kind of reminded her of his late father who was a playboy. She knew their type well.

However, something fishy was also involved. What was he trying to do? What made him so important to Salomon? That intrigued her as much as preoccupied her, she would soon get to know that but, for now, she needed some good sleep.

Nine o'clock came as the bath relaxed her too much. Besides, sleeping well helps beauty according to the night creams commercials. Anyway, she was tired.

Morning came, she woke up early at six, went jogging like she used to, a habit that had remained with her from her training days in Israel. The Mossad was known to be demanding, when it came to physical aptitudes that made her disciplined and strong. She was also smart, she passed through the tests easily until she became a field agent some years before she met Salomon Hajji.

He was not related to the Mossad, not even to the Israeli government but, somehow, he seemed to be highly influential by the way he could have access to agents and the fact that the Mossad would easily allow him to hire their agents. She found him likable, a respectable old gentleman easily to get along with and well intentioned.

After the morning jog, she got back to the hotel and took a shower, put on some unassuming clothes and got to downtown Madrid. The mission would require time since she had no backup. She was sent alone, as far as she knew, but the money was good. She would hire somebody if she needed some help. However, she thought that it was unlikely, at least for some days. First, she would have to get familiar with Antonio's habits, know the places he visited for fun and make a first contact. She would have to know what the man was up to.

She walked for almost half an hour until she found herself outside Grupo Caza headquarters, located in a classical building that once served as a hotel. The building was transformed into a modern corporate style, designed to reflect the success of Grupo Caza in world business, a fact she found interesting. The place was not intended to be discrete nor did his owner as she would find later.

She grabbed a small photo camera, concealed inside a cigarette pack and started taking shots at everything, the cars parked outside, the two security guards standing outside the door. She moved pretending to be a tourist for about an hour. Suddenly, she saw a tall man in his fifties, white haired, with fine features and a well-built body. She recognized him as he matched the description of Antonio Cazador.

Antonio Cazador got into a big black car when a bodyguard opened the back door of the car for him. A black SUV followed. They moved fast, speeding in direction to the south. The clock marked 10 am, she put her camera away and got back to the hotel, where she downloaded the photos to her computer for an identity check that resulted positive. The man she saw was, indeed, Antonio Cazador. She would be back.

She would likely need some backup in case she had to directly interrogate him. There was tight security around Antonio.

After dinner, she dialed Mr. Salomon Hajji's number to let him know she was working already.

"Salomon," she said over the phone.

"Ah, my Lucia, I'm glad to hear you," responded Mr. Hajji

"What news do you have for me, my beautiful?" asked Mr. Hajji intrigued.

"I am now working in Madrid. I went to Grupo Caza headquarters this morning."

"And?..."

"Well, I am evaluating the security around Antonio. It seems to be tight and done by pros."

"I understand. How can I help you then?"

"Tomorrow I will test their security personnel readiness. If I found them ready, I would need a backup agent, Salomon. Would be better if he or she is Mossad."

"Hmmm, I see Lucia. I'll see what I can arrange for you. Let me know when you need the backup. But I can't promise Mossad. Ok?"

"Yes, thank you, Salomon."

"You are very welcome, my Lucia. Be careful."

"I will, Salomon, good bye."

"Good bye."

She hung up the telephone, feeling somewhat relieved about Salomon's willingness to assist her.

Another night fell on Madrid, but she would not sleep early, this time she would go and enjoy some of the nightlife of Madrid.

19.

OAXACA, MEXICO

"They should never know about this, Manuel!" Mr. Salomon Hajji said to Lt. Manuel Martinez, his security chief and a former Guatemalan Kaibil special forces Lieutenant, specialized in black ops.

The attempted murder of Antonio Cazador had been a complete failure. It was planned in a rush, a desperate measure that went bad against which Lt. Martinez advised Salomon Hajji, but the mercenary, who presented himself as Cleves, had good credentials and promised a flawless execution. According to what they knew, he would attempt the murder just after Antonio left the presidential palace. They should have known better than that. The security services had no problem detecting and anticipating their plans. 'They certainly would not miss those trigger-happy-give-me-a-bazooka-and-I'll-blow-it-up kind of guys, they usually do more harm than good, attracting lots of negative attention.' Lt. Martinez thought.

"Don't worry about that, Mr. Salomon. Luckily, the two men were killed on the spot. Somehow they found out what they were up to." explained Lt. Martinez, whose explanation surprised Salomon Hajji, especially the "they already knew what we were up to" part.

"What do you mean they already knew, Manuel?" asked a visible intrigued Mr. Hajji.

"Somehow they figured out their plan, they went careless and got spotted. That's why they switched Antonio Cazador to a helicopter and killed our men on the spot. They knew."

Mr. Hajji listened to Lt. Martinez. Then, shrugged "that means they are getting close, Manuel."

"I am afraid so, Mr. Hajji. We cannot continue trying or we would risk being caught. We just might not be that lucky next time."

"I agree, Manuel, I am afraid that we are losing ground, day by day, against this bastard and whoever is backing him up. He is a clever one." Lt. Martinez looked surprised at Mr. Salomon Hajji. Mr. Hajji had never cursed before.

"Mr. Hajji, you cursed!" he pointed surprised, 'He must be very frustrated' Lt. Martinez thought.

"Yes. I just did..."

20.

MIRAFLORES DE LA SIERRA, OUTSKIRTS OF MADRID, SPAIN

The Villa compound had a secret part, a part without a view of the mountains north of Madrid that resembled a little department. It had two rooms, cable TV, a complete bathroom. It looked like a regular apartment except for the fact that it was a prison, with no way out, except through the heavy metallic door through which they received food and supplies and handed out the garbage for disposal.

Maria and little Jose Murgia Jr. had been trapped there for months now. Nobody except for Benancio, Antonio's security guard, was in charge of providing the involuntary guests with food and supplies.

Jose's instructions to recover his family safe had been clear. He wanted to make sure the evidence of the killings reach the U.S. and be known. Antonio Cazador was ruthless, he knew and he made himself clear about what he wanted.

"How are they doing, Benancio?" Antonio Cazador asked over the phone.

"Fine, sir, they are angry but they look healthy, the kid has started to eat again." responded Benancio.

"Good, Benancio, let's keep them like that, at least, until further notice."

"Understood, sir."

"Very well, we'll be in touch. Keep me informed of any new development."

"Count on that, sir." The call ended and Benancio replaced the phone, looking at the prison apartment inside through the cameras from his desk, a floor upstairs. From there, he could see Maria and Jose watching some TV quietly. Maria had been crying. That could be told from the redness of her eyes. She cried every day.

21.

MADRID, SPAIN

Lucia had a good time. She visited some in vogue night clubs, met some shallow youths and distracted herself by listening to their simple conversations. She even wondered why some people seemed to live their lives unaware of the dangers that lurked in the global underworld and that people like her had to face, so they can have a vacuous and meaningless nightlife. Perhaps, if they knew how fragile and valuable freedom was, they would not waste their peaceful life, meddling drunks at night clubs. Such life seemed unappealing to her, she also found boring anything that resembled a typical life. She considered herself a strange kind of social outcast, plainly in rebellion against life in consensus. She was just satisfied with her life the way it was, addicted to the constant adrenaline rush of her lifestyle, putting up the fight for good causes.

Morning came, time for surveillance. She followed her routine, went jogging, had a light breakfast, dressed in some different clothes and headed towards Grupo Caza headquarters. This time she dressed more as a tourist, big hat, some unassuming Bermuda shorts, and a camera hanging by her neck.

Her objective was sheer simple: take a closer look at the activities at GrupoCaza headquarters to assess the best way to proceed. She would pay close attention to the security personnel activities, the way only a trained person could do.

She walked slowly as a tourist, she was relaxed as if she were on a true vacation. Her mission so far had been what she would call an easy one, but she was sensitive enough to avoid herself to be sloppy. Relaxed for her didn't mean distracted. The streets passed in a blink and she was now steps away from the objective.

She walked into the coffee shop, conveniently located across the street from the building. It was a crowded place frequented mostly by local people, who knew the coffee they served. She sat at a table, ordered an espresso and looked at a newspaper. She sat backwards to the building entrance but she let her camera record for about an hour. She would check the tape later that night when the time to analyze consisted in fixing the pieces together and deducting, perhaps, the most difficult part to interpret and diagnose the whole thing.

She got out of the coffee shop, walked for two more hours around the building. Nobody noticed her. Time was coming for her to get back to the hotel before somebody noticed her. But suddenly something happened that got her attention.

Antonio Cazador suddenly appeared at the front door of the building, something weird since usually VIPs would not cross front doors on any building. They usually had other private entrances for security reasons: some used back entrances, others used subterranean entrances depending on the building itself. Antonio was not out at the front door to board his transport and leave the premises. He was accompanying a guest out of the building, "An important guest no doubt," she thought.

A black vehicle approached the entrance and the driver got out to open the door, Antonio's guest got into the car after shaking hands with Antonio in a friendly manner. Somehow the man seemed familiar to Lucia, but she couldn't quite tell.

22.

MADRID, SPAIN

Lucia decided to devote, what remained of the day, to identify who was the man she had seen with Antonio Cazador earlier.

She already had a clue. That man must have been Mexican since Antonio Cazador's recent businesses were taking place in Mexico, she concluded. Surely, he had to be a high rank government official for what she found out about Antonio Cazador on her last trip working for Mr. Salomon Hajji, his kind of man would not be with lesser officials, neither would he.

She would start from the top, Martin Trujillo's cabinet first, she Googled the names and photos. It took a few minutes, but then 'Bingo!', she thought when a photograph appeared on her screen which matched perfectly the image held in her mind. The man was Felipe Arturo, the Secretary for Internal Affairs and the number two ranking government official, just below the president himself, 'I wonder what they are up to?'

She dialed Mr. Salomon Hajji's number. She had to inform him about it; no doubt he would like to know about it.

"Salomon, I've news, dear." She bragged over the phone.

"Really? What is it, my Lucia?" Mr. Salomon responded on an unassuming tone.

"Your guy, Antonio, just met the Mexican secretary for Internal Affairs. I saw them here."

"What?! Are you sure, my Lucia?" Mr. Salomon expressed clearly surprised.

"Yes, Salomon, I just saw them in Grupo Caza headquarters here, in Madrid." Lucia pointed out.

"Can you find out about that, Lucia? Priorities just changed, my beautiful; such developments require our attention first!"

"Yes, Salomon... but don't you think it would be logical to assume that the secretary is here on behalf of the president? I mean, he is his number two man, right? What surprise would it be if he were here negotiating with Antonio?" Lucia questioned.

"It's far more complicated than that, my Lucia. They might be in the same government but, for sure, they are no friends, they are enemies. That's what make this interesting Lucia, I want to know about it, we could be in for something interesting, indeed." Salomon added.

"I understand, Salomon, I will see to it, but also there is another issue..."

"What is it, Lucia?"

"Security is quite professional, Salomon, they are no rookies. I had another idea but I'm going to need more money if that is ok with you, of course." Lucia elaborated.

"No problem. Just tell me how much and you will receive it, but tell me about your plan, Lucia." demanded Mr. Salomon gently.

"Ok, Salomon, I will explain myself," Lucia said as she stood up from the chair and walked towards the hotel room window, getting into a comfortable position for a long telephone call. She continued,

"I have been investigating about Antonio's personality through many ways, and I have found that he seems to be obsessed by esoteric sciences, he consults astrologists, card readers and other types of esoteric characters quite often, some say at least twice a week. He appears to be fascinated by the idea that the future can be foretold. He has always been surrounded by, what he calls, gurus for a long time. He attributes most of his business success to the alleged skills of such people, claiming they had revealed him the ways to fulfill his destiny" she explained to Mr. Salomon who listened to her very carefully, not losing a single detail.

Something Lucia said seemed to have caught his attention closely. Even Lucia noted that, but she continued,

"He consults about everything with his gurus. I plan to become one of them."

Mr. Salomon was surprised. He stopped to think for a moment before refusing his permission to the plan that seemed an illusion to him, highly unlikely to be successful, at first glance, but he liked the idea so he allowed her to continue with the specifics.

"How exactly do you plan to do that, Lucia?" he patiently asked.

"I will get close to him first, make him notice me, then, I will pass along as a powerful clairvoyant and esoteric master so he would start consulting me, that's how I plan to extract what they are up to. I have it all figured out. I won't fail, but I need you to trust me, Salomon." she concluded.

Something made sense about her plan even though it sounded a little too crazy. He decided to back it up. Bottom line, he hadn't much choice and Lucia had never failed him before.

"All right, Lucia, your plan seems clever, it sounds dangerous and hard to pull off but you are an excellent trained agent. I'm sure you will make it. However, I have one request to make you," Salomon said,

"What is it?" Lucia asked intrigued.

"Be careful, my Lucia."

23.

MADRID, SPAIN

It was Friday. It had been raining the whole afternoon and Lucia had already found an excellent rent real estate that fitted her plan nicely. It was a luxurious modern penthouse with an incredible city view, just blocks away from the center, located in a private building known to be so exclusive that even many celebrities and politicians owned departments there. The rent price was ridiculously high but it was Mr. Salomon who signed the checks.

A mission such as hers required arrangements and that meant expenditures, operational expenditures.

She had the place. She would need to decorate it accordingly to her so she brought many esoteric items to display them in such a way around the penthouse that almost anybody could notice them and realize she was a truly esoteric enthusiast. She also selected furniture of like. She passed the weekend making the arrangements. For a moment, on Saturday, she even felt amused and forgot about the mission. For a little while, she could afford to do so.

She knew her part in detail, she couldn't risk blowing her fake identity. She'd better be prepared, luckily for her, the matter involved a lot of subjectivity and psychology, and she was good at that. She would be all right as long as she didn't stand apart from the certain principles she had memorized.

Politicians are known to frequently consult esoteric characters, not few of them hire esoteric advisors full time, they had them cast spells to help their means and other obscure purposes. Politicians are known to manage their advisors' fortunes. Many esoteric characters become exceedingly rich, advising politicians, especially Mexican and Spanish politicians who become addicted to their services and influence in such a way that even some esoteric advisors become more famous than the politician himself.

In an uncertain world, some politicians seem to hand their souls over to the devil in exchange for some certainty, in quite an opposite direction from their people's faith in a greater good. The people might be with God, their leaders would not.

Stories of politician excesses, when it came to esoteric devotion, abounded. There were famous cases like one of a known politician who drank shakes, consisting of several exotic animals. This kind of behavior was common among the Mexican politicians.

Supernatural issues, foretold destinies and esoteric deeds had always been part of the politicians' minds since the ancient Greeks consulted their oracles. The case of Rasputin and the last Russian czar are well known examples of esoteric influence and how kingdoms could be destroyed by their influence.

She would play an extremely intelligent game with Antonio Cazador. She would ask for the details. He would obediently provide them in exchange for some psychological feel safe and good dope, wrapped up and delivered by an attractive female such as her.

What else can a man ask for?

The week went by and the arrangements eventually ended, the place and the puppet master were ready, time came to get the puppet. It was Thursday.

24.

MADRID, SPAIN

She saw the advertisement first as an advertisement on the street. Then, she connected the dots. The Cazador family had a charity, one that made a lot of noise for its little actual size and relevance and such charity was presided by Antonio Cazador himself. He would preside the gala dinner on Friday, which meant at eight pm the following day at the Grand Palace.

It's well known that such Gala dinners are filled with TV stars and sports stars. Their presence doesn't mean they truly care about the charity or anything; they are paid to be there just like they get paid to play a soccer match or perform a song. However, there are always some merciful souls among such elite crowd that actually get involved in making a difference, such people were not to be found on the Cazador Charity Gala dinner, just paid stars, athletes and many politicians would be around .

There was a high price tag. The ticket cost about ten thousand Euros. It was a prohibitive amount and it was meant to be that way. The money was all supposed to go to charity. Truth was, the politicians would make the government pay the extravagance and the business partners of the CAZA group were invited for free by Antonio. The only people who actually paid for such extravagance were known to be people interested in getting close to the head of the CAZA group. Lucia was certainly interested in meeting him for a different kind of business, so she fitted the profile.

It took another call to Mr. Salomon and a higher number appeared on Lucia's bank account. She wrote a check to the name indicated by Cazador's charity and, in a matter of hours, she received an envelope, finely wrapped with a legend impressed in silk. She opened the envelope delivered personally by a finely dressed courier at her apartment door and she found a personal invitation signed by Antonio Cazador as the charity's president. The invitation also had a bar code for security purposes.

The dress, the makeup, the stories were all ready. That Friday rain washed the streets of Madrid, constantly pounding heavy rain drops until a wet stone scent could be breathed all along the city, mixing with the cold temperature, tempering it a little bit, making it perfect for the flowers in the balcony of the palace as a welcoming gesture for the attendants to the grand gala in a palace that had been there ever since the Spanish ruled most of Europe and that still looked fabulous.

Fine wine was brought from all around Europe's best wine houses. The chefs argued about the dinner details, waiters and staff prepared the tables under the demanding sight of the supervisors and the party planner herself, candles, table centers, lights and the dance floor, everything was on schedule as the orchestra rehearsed for the grand night. Finally, reflectors and a red carpet that was deployed illuminating the Grand Palace, creating a magical environment resembling that of a fairy tale.

Time came, the clock signalized and a limousine waited for Lucia in the lobby as had been previously arranged. She managed to get a male colleague stationed in Spain to escort her without interfering with her plan, a discrete escort just to cover her back, he was supposed to be nothing else.

She looked stunning. Neither the driver nor the escort could dissimulate their likings—'Excellent!' she thought. In that way, Antonio Cazador wouldn't escape from her. All she needed was to establish a first contact.

The limousine started to move, she would be making her grand entrance soon. Once there, she would introduce her very own character, Señora de Lucian, master in hidden sciences into the business and politics elite of Madrid.

25.

MADRID, SPAIN

The limousine stopped right on spot where the red carpet laid to receive the distinguished guests to the gala. There were some reporters and paparazzi waiting by the entrance, hoping to get the best shot, in case some celebrity got out of the limousines that were arriving one after another.

A receptionist quickly appeared, dressed in an impeccable tuxedo, to open the limousine door and offered to assist the guests descending from the limousine. Reporters quickly gathered around the limousine, hoping to catch a celebrity arriving, they were astonished and confused the moment they saw Lucia. She had the looks, the style, a perplexing beauty, yes, she fitted and even exceeded their expectations for a star look, but yet, her face was not familiar to them. Anyway, they quickly started to shoot the cameras convinced of the fact that she must have been a famous celebrity from a foreign country and they could probably sell the photos. Cameras flashed and everybody looked her entrance—'Just excellent, couldn't ask for anything better' she thought, feeling glad by her looks, a little vanity serving couldn't do any harm after all. She smiled.

She walked by the arm of her escort in an elegant sensual manner, they were easily allowed into the palace just instants after delivering their invitations. Inside, the palace looked grand, everything in its place, the elaborated candles on the wall and on the roof, the walls, the music, the tables, everything just like fairy tales, everybody felt once again in the best times of the European courts. In a simple word, magnificent.

She walked by the arm of her escort, guided by the hostess to their designed table, men there couldn't help it, she got all the attention as she passed among fine tuxedo dressed men and the fine long dressed women, showing her best jewelry.

Antonio Cazador looked at her, astonished by her beauty. He was a few steps away, having a conversation holding a glass of champagne while talking to a Spanish government minister. He decided he would get close to meet her and see who that mysterious beautiful woman was. He was sure he had never seen her before. Impossible, he would remember a woman like that.

About an hour passed, fine music and fine wine and canapés delighted the guests. Suddenly, the music stopped and the host appeared in the middle of the dance floor, catching everybody's attention. He held a microphone close to his mouth ready to speak some words. The room suddenly went silence as the music and, soon ,the chatter stopped.

"My distinguished and good willed guests, I am very sorry for interrupting your conversation and the beautiful music, but I really wanted to thank all of you for being here with us, I cannot tell you on behalf of the children who will receive your donations tonight, how grateful and blessed we are all at the Cazador foundation for your most generous support!" he pronounced a touchy speech as he walked in a slow fashion around the dance floor, a burst of applauses erupted suddenly, he smiled and bowed in courtesy, thanking them for their applause. Then, after a minute he continued,

"We have a tradition, somebody must open the dance floor and tonight I volunteered myself to do so, I hope my dance skills won't fail. I will choose a lady to honor me with a dance." another applause concluded the talking and he started walking among the tables until he reached Lucia's table, where he stopped.

He looked at Lucia. Then, he bowed at her and politely said to her "My lady, would you honor me with a dance if your distinguished companion doesn't have any objection, of course."

Lucia thought 'Perfect!' And responded,

"I accept your invitation. My escort won't oppose since he is my brother. I own myself" 'Perfect!' thought Antonio and he couldn't help drawing a smile on his face.

Gossip arouse as they walked among the tables heading to the dance floor, people commented how well a couple they made, even some sarcastic comments showed up, mostly motivated by jealousy for the couple. Don Antonio was one of the most sought after bachelors in Spain and the unknown woman, walking by his side, looked like a new and formidable adversary to many of the gold diggers attractive single women that used to attend every single party they knew Antonio would be in. Antonio knew it perfectly and a mischievous little smile showed between his ears, he seemed to have found some pleasure in the situation, needless to say, they walked elegantly kingly like until they reached the dance floor, where applauses broke into the air.

He offered his hand handsomely. She took it with style and the orchestra initiated the music, a finely interpreted modern waltz, resembling Strauss, with some fancy new additions by a Spanish composer. They moved gracefully all around the dance floor under the rhythm and the glances of all the people present.

"You never told me your name, my lady." expressed Antonio carefully to Lucia as the dance continued, 1, 2, 3, 4 the rhythm marked,

"You didn't ask" Lucia responded naturally, trying not to seem interested.

"I'm sorry, my fault. Please, can you tell me your name?" he asked intrigued,

"It's Lady Lucian, I'm not Spanish." she pointed out.

"My name is Antonio Cazador, I'm the host of tonight's dinner, I'm glad such a sophisticated woman honored me with this dance. May I ask where you are from and what brought you to Madrid?" he continued.

The rhythm accelerated a couple of compasses. He grabbed her waist and both did a turn 1, 2, 3. In a surprise move, Lucia got close to him. He was surprised and delighted. Lucia fixed her glare on Antonio's eyes and responded subtly but bluntly,

"I'm afraid too many questions for such a dance, but if you really want to know come to my table later, I'll give you my card." Antonio nodded and the song finished. Again, he grabbed her hand to receive the public applause. He bowed to her, and they left the dance floor in different directions. The dance was marvelous; the gossip couldn't be hotter.

All eyes on the party where fixated on her as a new revelation, her debut a complete success so far. Antonio could not keep his eyes away from her for long. He waited for the right moment to stop by her table and get her card, perhaps, later that very same night.

Different people approached Lucia. She met the Transportation Secretary and some members of the PP, a powerful political party in Spanish politics. Night went by swiftly, music, wine and dance but no signs of Antonio yet, she could only see him away having conversation with different people.

The situation was turning more and more complicated as time passed by. If she stayed too long, people would notice her interest in Antonio, her woman intuition kept telling her that showing too much interest in a man, would get him away. Men are instinctively hunters, they even enjoy being rejected, just a little bit to catch their attention, so she could not afford that option, overstaying was not an option. On the other hand, if she left too soon, it could probably mean losing an opportunity to get close to him more calmly. Her partner started to tell her that the situation demanded a decision a.s.a.p.

"We have to leave now, Helmut!" exclaimed Lucia in a polite but commanding manner, She had decided to leave,

"What is it, Sister?" questioned Helmut in response, trying to look surprised and yet preoccupied by the sudden request, playing his part nicely to avoid raising suspicious thought by the other guests sat at their table.

"I have a terrible headache Helmut, I'm sorry." she responded.

A guest broke into the conversation,

"Are you all right, Sister?"

"Yes, it's just that sometimes I get a terrible headache, nothing serious, just an uncomfortable part of my gifts." she explained, the man relaxed. Helmut said.

"Then, we have to go, Sister."

"Oh, thank you Helmut. I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry."

Helmut, looking at the guests, exclaimed "I'm so sorry. We have to go. It was so nice and an honor meeting you, distinguished ladies and gentlemen, may faith meet us again." people nodded at him in an understanding and polite gesture, one of them couldn't help his curiosity and asked directly at Lucia,

"Lady, what type of gifts you were talking about a moment ago? If it is ok to ask, of course" 'he bit the bate. Perfect!' Lucia thought.

"I have visions of the future, sir!" she responded aloud, that shocked the people at the table. It took them completely by surprise. The look on their faces was that of awe. The perfect time for a lasting impression and leave, and so they did without hesitating. She smiled politely and both walked away in such a glamorous manner as they got in.

Antonio quickly turned around at Lucia leaving, 'Damn!' he thought, he should have moved faster. He knew that, but then, a tranquilizing thought crossed his mind. She was on the guest list, he even signed her invitation. Tomorrow he would find her, anywhere in the world she chose.

He saw her walk away and cross the door. He was fascinated by her beauty. He had to get to know her better.

Tomorrow Antonio, she could not go that far by the morning... he hoped.

26.

MADRID, SPAIN

Ring! Ring! The telephone rang with insistence. The clock marked ten o'clock. Lucia was still in bed, a strange attitude in an otherwise disciplined soldier. She couldn't explain it but she could not stop thinking of Antonio, not in a mission and objective manner but rather in a personal way, that confused and angered her a little, she was quick about discarding her thought about it, it was just that somehow it kept appearing.

Ring! Ring! The phone continued pounding the table by the bed, almost threatening to break it. She flexed her arm to reach the speaker.

"Hello, who is this?" she asked intrigued,

"Hi, am I speaking with Lady Lucian?" a male voice responded over,

"Yes, you are, but who is this?" she insisted,

"Hi, it's Antonio Cazador, we met last night at the gala dinner, you danced with me" He explained.

Got you! She thought as her clever eyes brightened, "Oh yes, yes, of course, how are you? What a surprise!" she added genuinely, unnoticed to her, her fingers started to play along with the phone's cord, 'What the!' she thought but then quickly stopped.

"I'm sorry to call you this early in the morning but I was worried. People told me you felt bad, that's why you left the party, I am calling you to offer my help."

"Oh, thank you very much, you are most kind for worrying. I'm ok, it was just a regular headache, that was all. I'm all right now, as a matter of fact I was about to go jogging for a while" she explained.

"Oh, I see you are fine now, I'm glad. I have another request as well if you don't mind."

"What would that be, Antonio?" she asked intrigued.

"May I meet you later this afternoon if you are not busy. You didn't give me your card!" a nervous laugh erupted at both sides of the line.

"Oh! You are right. I'm so sorry I promised. We can meet in the afternoon. It's okay with me. How about 5 pm?"

"Hmmm, very well. See you at 5 pm then."

"Come to my house at five. You have my address in your guest list. We can have a coffee and a chat here. It's quite pleasant."

"At five pm then."

"Ok, good bye."

"Good bye."

27.

MADRID, SPAIN

A month passed by since Lucia and Antonio met for the first time. He had now become an avid customer of Señora de Lucian, the Guru, the beautiful mystic he met that night at the Gala, revealing personal secrets and facts to her.

Lucia always stayed true to her mission but somehow a special attraction was beginning to develop between them. Mr. Salomon Hajji was aware of such info. He was always briefed to the very detail by her faithful agent Lucia. She didn't mention what she was starting to feel about Antonio, but she didn't have to say anything, Mr. Hajji was a clever and wise old man who had learned through the years how quickly young people were controlled by their emotions, no matter their previous training. It was just nature taking over as it was natural to expect.

He had decided he had enough info, Lucia was not his only source. He just did what a good intelligence specialist should do, he got the pieces together, connected the dots scratched here and there and an answer was starting to surface dot by dot. There was light at the end of the tunnel and he could see it at a distance... for the moment...

It was time to finish Lucia's mission. It had been as successful as it could have been. Lucia didn't disappoint him.

The phone rang at Lucia's place, just a couple of ring tones the first time, that's how she knew she must contact Salomon Hajji. Lucia hurried to establish contact.

"Yes, Salomon?" She responded as always, expecting perhaps more questions on her impressions. But not this time,

"My Lucia, it's time to end the mission, I will see you in three days in Mexico." a decided Salomon Hajji commanded.

"But..."

"Trust me, Lucia, we had enough. You did a great job; it's time to leave. Besides, it's getting more and more dangerous every minute you spend there." Silent for a moment, a doubtful Lucia spoke.

"Yes, Salomon, I will see you in three days in Mexico."

Knock, Knock. Somebody was knocking at her door, but who could it be on Christmas Eve? Her heart starting pounding inside her when the words "Lucia, it's getting dangerous..." popped in her head. She was no princess in a hurry, she grabbed her discrete gun, placed it ready for a deadly discharge, she approached the door, and from a prudent distance she asked who it was, she waited for a moment but... nothing. She held the gun ready but, suddenly, a familiar voice responded,

"Hi Señora, it's Antonio!" she felt relieved, hid her gun into a cabinet and confidently opened the door. She found an Antonio finely dressed and holding a bottle of wine and a basket with food. She smiled 'How considerate he is!' He remembered she was a foreigner and she was alone in Spain. He was there to spend Christmas with her.

28.

MADRID, SPAIN

"Wow, Antonio! What a surprise!" a surprised Lucia expressed spontaneously as she opened the door.

"I was hanging around the neighborhood and I thought, perhaps some Señora would be alone this Christmas so why not make her some company." he said in an inviting manner.

Lucia invited him into the house and both walked towards the living room, exchanging a meaningless nice chat. They made themselves comfortable as Lucia rushed to the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine for his visit.

"So, Antonio, shall I say Merry Christmas?" she said, raising her glass for a toast. Antonio toasted Merry Christmas and both took a deep sip of wine. They chatted for a while.

However, something didn't fit quite well with the scene. Lucia, being a trained expert, noticed how, even after some time chatting and toasting, the body language of Antonio reflected uneasiness as if he were alert about something. It could very well have been the fact that Antonio still found Lucia so beautiful he got nervous as he usually did in other occasions. Lucia smiled for herself 'I like him, he behaves like a teenager' she thought complacently. She decided to overlook his body signs. It was Christmas after all.

"Excuse me, I must go to the toilet, be right back." she said smiling. Antonio just nodded and she walked away down the hallway.

As soon as she got a distance away, he reached for his pocket and grabbed a small envelope, containing something resembling baby powder. He quickly opened it and tapped the content into Lucia's glass, still filled with wine. He didn't hesitate for a moment, the door of the bathroom cracked open, letting a smiling Lucia out. She walked deliberately towards the living room. Antonio saw her moving with grace. He sipped some wine from his glass.

Lucia sat again on the couch, she finished his wine. The chatter continued. After a few minutes, when she started to feel dizzy, her sight was getting blurry and was losing control over her movements fast. Everything passed before her as if she were trapped on a slow motion scene. She fell on the floor unconscious. Antonio didn't move seeing her lose herself until she reached the floor, then his gesture changed, an ironic and malevolent smile appeared on his face, he raised his glass and pronounced,

"Let's toast for the deceiving Lucia, the deceitful beautiful spy."

"Oh, that is your name right, Lucia?" his expression changed again. Anger took over, he stood up, threw a hard kick to her stomach. Lucia was not totally unconscious. She felt the kick. It was so painful that she was unable to even scream. Her eyes moved frantically as if trying to respond just with the gaze. Pointless, the man rapaciously delivered fist punches and kicks with a furious frenzy. She was totally in panic, anguishing scared, unable to do anything.

Antonio took his cell phone, she saw him dial a number and make a call. She couldn't hear but she could see his lips moving, he spoke fast, made some gestures. Finally, he hung up and looked back at her. Who was it? Who was he speaking too? How did he discover her real identity? It was all useless now, she finally lost it,

Everything went dark and quiet...

29.

GUADALAJARA, MEXICO

"Any news about her, Martinez?" Mr. Salomon Hajji asked Lt. Martinez.

"No, sir, I'm afraid it seems she never even entered the country at all."

"How is that? I just talked with a good friend of mine at the Customs, he checked and nothing came up." Lt. Martinez explained as the expression in Mr. Salomon's face started to turn a bit grim and worried.

"Could it be...?"

"No, sir, don't think that, she's one of the best agents, I can hardly imagine her being discovered. Besides, it's not the first time she is late, just remember that time in the U.S.A...."

"You are right, Martinez. Let's wait a little longer." they concluded, calming themselves down a little bit, too much would be at stake if she is discovered, the whole plan could go downhill.

The windswept the dust outside the office building as it started to get dark, threatening to rain as it usually did. The city lights were going brighter after every inch the sun surrendered. The conference room on the 20th floor looked surreal on sunsets, the wooden large table with the fine leather chairs deployed orderly around it and there was a huge window with an amazing view of the city. The light shaded in different tones as the sun moved. Mr. Salomon and Lt. Martinez were sitting there, looking at the sunset.

Mr. Salomon was tapping some papers on the table, in an almost rhythmical manner, reflecting nervousness. Lt. Martinez noticed it since he got into the room but didn't dare to ask what troubled Mr. Hajji. The old man seemed deep in his thoughts. Finally, Mr. Salomon grabbed one of the papers and, looking at Martinez, said in an infuriated tone.

"The papers I have here are the info recollected by Lucia in Spain from Antonio and... my own corporate research."

Martinez looked at Mr. Salomon puzzled about his sudden change of tone.

"What is so important about it, Mr. Hajji?" He asked uneasy.

"I have reached a conclusion and it's worse than I thought Martinez!" he elaborated.

"Antonio is just the tip of the iceberg, he is being used to get president Trujillo out of the way so a new puppet president could step in or, have the man to open the doors to the uranium mining and the nuclear program. Either way is bad enough!"

"I think that it has already happened, Mr. Hajji," added Martinez ironically.

"Not exactly, Martinez" he said. Mr. Hajji, then, grabbed a couple of sheets from the desk and handed them to Lt. Martinez to see.

"Look, President Trujillo is an ambitious man but not a fool one. The program is closed and the most important mining zones are closed to, restricted by Mexican law to indigenous communities, not even president Trujillo dared to open up those zones, not because he respects the people's tradition and their ways, of course, but to avoid an international diplomatic conflict and a possible intervention."

"It would take billions of dollars and huge man power and technical expertise to develop the uranium mines there and revive the nuclear program to be used as geopolitical bargain chip. For that, they would need a President authorizing that, so the companies could come, otherwise, it would be impossible to mount a clandestine operation no matter the resources invested in the effort."

"I get it! Of course, the permit would be to companies related to Grupo CAZA or its partners. He would hit the damn jackpot big time, that bastard!"

"Yes, and Mexico would crumble from the inside, just imagine what would the U.S. do, they would not allow that to happen just like that."

"Indeed! And what about the people of Mexico?"

"Just imagine economic blockades, government repression and enslaving labor conditions, poverty would become widespread. It could easily become like Cuba or worse."

"We cannot allow that to happen, Martinez, not in a million years!"

"I totally agree, sir. What do you suggest we should do?"

"Let's give Lucia two more days, if she doesn't appear, we'll have to carry out the drastic solution we have already discussed, Martinez. We will kill the president before someone else does, catching our enemies by surprise. It is the only way to stop their plan, I'm afraid." The answer surprised Martinez. It was an extreme solution but probably the only one. They were running out of options fast.

"Sir, that would mean you would get killed, and we would not be able to stop Antonio's network. We don't know yet exactly how or even if he plans to overthrown president Trujillo. More importantly, we will not know who is really behind it all. They can always try again and we will be dead."

"Have you considered, Mr. Hajji, that there could be someone or something bigger behind it all."

"I know Martinez, but still it's better anyway to have him dead even if I have to die myself in the event. At least that could stop their plans for the time being."

"Sir..."

"No, Martinez, It was my fault, I should have not supported Martin Trujillo in the first place. I am already guilty, I'll have to pay the price..."

"Argh! That mad man! Trujillo, damn, how was I to know how reckless he is, a vulgar murderer, a tyrant... a coward... and worse..." Mr. Salomon ground his teeth in frustration.

"Lucia will appear, sir..."

"She has to!"

Martinez was about to leave when Mr. Hajji added sounding a bit confused,

"It mentions a law suit..."

"A law suit?" Martinez responded intrigued

"So it says here Martinez!" Mr. Hajji stood up from the chair and showed Lucia's inform to Martinez who added ironically,

"Are they planning to sue Trujillo or something? Come on! That is ridiculous!"

30.

SOMEWHERE ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF MADRID, SPAIN

The sound of some fireworks, cracking outside, woke her up violently. Fast and swiftly, she threw herself to the floor as she was trained. Her body responded perfectly, fresh as if she had just woken up from bed, but, just seconds later, she something stuck in her ,. She saw a needle dug in her arm, injecting some kind of liquid directly into her bloodstream. Her head hurt really badly, so did her body. She recovered her consciousness but she still felt pain in all her body since she had been badly beaten. She noticed she had bruises. She could not see anything beyond some inches. The room was completely dark. All that could be seen was a tiny window up in the roof, so tiny, not even a child could pass through it and it was so high it was impossible to reach. The only thing that could be perceived was the night in the sky lit by fireworks. It must have been New Year's celebration... she thought, considering the last time she was awake. Then, it all struck her back, reality landed on her with the shock of a car crash. I am trapped by Antonio! Where am I? Bad thoughts crossed her mind, "Hello? Is there anybody out there?" She cried for help, but nothing, just the echo in the room or basement or whatever it was.

Her heart started pounding fast inside her chest with angst...

31.

50TH AND BROADWAY "THE WAR ROOM"

NEW YORK, NEW YORK, U.S.A.

"It's about the Alien Tort Statute" one of the lawyers indicated, pointing at the board.

"What is it Roger?" Robert Higgins asked, standing by the board and stopping the presentation to allow Roger to explain himself. The room went silent.

"It won't proceed. He has diplomatic immunity. He is a foreign government officer in office. There is no way any court would accept the case."

Robert listened to him, nodding after every phrase the lawyer said. Finally, he decided to explain himself.

"This case is not about the law." the affirmation surprised and disconcerted the lawyers in the room, stopping them on their tracks. One of them interrupted,

"Then, what is it about Robert?" Robert smiled confidently and said,

"It is precisely about what just happened. It's about catching the world's attention such as I just caught yours, gentlemen!" they all looked at him disconcerted except for the old Peter Byron, who looked at it from a detached position. Finally, he decided to step in.

"President Trujillo's regime casted a shadow over his opponents, disguising them as criminals as he murdered them. We are going to uncover the veil and bring them to light. The world will know the truth and Trujillo will have to stop the killings and even step down to face trial." Peter explained as the lawyers looked incredulous.

"It's quite different from everything we have done in this firm so far. It's a most delicate situation and the risks are big but so are the rewards. This time we won't rely on our experience, we will rely on our heart and what's right. There won't be money involved in this but a lot of prestige. I am asking you to look forward to it, gentlemen." Peter explained heartedly.

"This morning I received a call from the State Department. I informed them about the situation. They won't stop us but they won't get involved either. We are mostly on our own." Peter concluded.

"Documents have already been dispatched to the newspapers, the New York, the W. Post, the L. Times, The Miami H. and many others countrywide. Tomorrow I'll meet the New York editor in person, along with a reporter, they seem to be interested in covering the story. Peter has called some connections in other newspapers, they want hard sound evidence before making a commitment to anything and that is precisely what we'll give them." Robert Higgins pointed out:

"Tomorrow we'll divide assignments among those that decided to participate..."

Night fell on New York as the city lights kept shining. The night was unstoppable just as the lonely figure still reviewing papers, organizing ideas in the office of the 50th and Broadway. Roberts Higgins looked through the window, immersed in his thoughts, finding inner strength, cherishing liberty, remembering that old phrase that carried him through law school, his first cases and every harsh time he encountered along the road "The only thing necessary for the evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing." by writer Edmund Burke, just how true and righteous those words sounded, never before their meaning seemed so true to him.

32.

OFFICIAL PRESIDENTIAL RESIDENCE, MEXICO CITY

It was Friday and tilting glasses resounded all over the garden terrace, one of the private dining rooms available for the president to share with his close subordinates. The president was pleased and the afternoon was beautiful. The president, his minister for internal affairs and the congress leader were holding whisky glasses. The chat was relaxed for such delicate matters, discussed around a bottle of wine.

"Finally, some good news, you aren't exaggerating things to please me, right?" the president asked as he stood up from the couch he was sitting in to stretch his legs and look at the marvelous garden. His short height certainly was compensated by the volume of his voice, a man known for being clearly spoken and determinant, sometimes too determinant and temperamental.

"No, Mr. President, I couldn't lie to you," responded the Minister for Internal Affairs in a reaffirming manner.

"After the arrests, the opposition is almost dismantled, they have lost almost all of their leadership." explained the minister,

"Did you hear that, you miserable man?!" the president turned around, yelling in a threatening manner at the congress president, who was obviously nervous. His face looked pale and scared.

"Yes, Mr. President" he responded, trying to disguise his obvious nervousness. The president noted it and again answered enraged.

"What? I can't hear you, speak like a man, you sound like praying. You are the congress president so... START ACTING LIKE ONE!" the president enjoyed imposing humiliation on his rivals any time he could, as he did with the congressman. Finally, he was making his point. He was the absolute boss willing to do anything necessary to keep power, somebody not to mess with, he dismissed the congress president in the same depictive manner he made his point. Such conducts cleverly performed to let them know who the boss was.

"Good! Now nothing stands in my way..."

33.

NEW YORK, NEW YORK

The Mexican refugees, led by Jose Murgia, walked along Times Square. They had been walking for an hour along Manhattan. They stopped by a deli for a meal and continued their walk north, where their provisional house was. Frank "Big Luck" Smith would be probably already waiting for them. He had promised to stay in touch and he had kept his word. Sometimes he brought them food, other times beer for him and Jose, as they had become good friends.

That day was a special day. Frank would take them out to a bar, something they hadn't done for quite a long time, 'A breathe of freedom would do them good,' Frank always thought and Jose agreed on the idea. There was Frank, well dressed, something unusual for him, wearing a blue blazer jacket, jeans and a tie. The bunch could see Frank standing by from a distance more than a block away. At first, they did not recognize him until Jose got closer to him.

"Wow, Frank, are you feeling ok?" Jose said in a slightly mocking tone. Frank was caught off guard,

"Why do you ask, Jose? Do I look bad or something?" He answered. One of the female refugees, realizing how disconcerted Frank was, suddenly started laughing and the laugh quickly spread among the group. He groaned,

"What? A handsome man cannot be dressed for an occasion? Come on!" Overpowered by the situation, he started laughing with the group, they just stood there laughing as people passed. For a moment, the stress stood out of their lives. They laughed as freemen.

"So, Frank, have you seen Robert lately?" Jose asked as they looked for a cab.

"No, not since we arrived in the States." The answer was unexpected. Jose thought the two would probably be in touch,

"Not since we arrived here?"

"That's right, Jose" Frank continued,

"You guys are all safe here, you are the witnesses. My mission was to bring you here safely, which I did. I can't see why Robert would need me. I'm certainly not a lawyer." Frank pointed.

"I see your point Frank, but still, I'm sure Robert will contact you soon, something tells me that." added Jose,

"I wouldn't know Jose. But now, let's forget about it, it's not working hours. Let's have some badly needed beer!" Frank concluded.

"You bet!"

34.

THE UNITED NATIONS HEADQUARTES BUILDING, NEW YORK

There had been news hype all over the weekend, media all around the globe informed the date of the World Human Rights convention to be held for the first time at the U.N., looking to become a permanent congress for Human Rights causes, a huge success that took many years and many sacrifices from human rights organizations all around the world.

The convention had a dramatic history, tainted with tragedy. It took a huge and shameful manslaughter of Christians in the sub-Saharan Africa for the world to really pay attention to the dire developments. Many organizations had warned before things headed to the point of no return in those countries, cruel Islamic fundamentalist guerrilla warlords throwing over nascent democracies, the west paid deaf ears and blind eyes until that shameful day, all of a sudden, got everybody's attention. A mine excavation, deep in the jungle, found a massive clandestine grave yard, thousands and thousands of people, men, women and children even some European missionaries were all killed, executed by fundamental fanatics.

The world had a rude awakening to a reality, long believed in the dark past eras of mankind, human beings were still capable of such despicable atrocities, and yes, the warnings by human right organizations became such a heavy burden in the back of western governments. Those days meant a turning point for human rights that became the new trending topic, which powered their spread, thanks to social media pressing western government to do something.

The immediate response by the UN Security Council was to intervene directly in those countries. A task force was organized swiftly and dispatched to impose peace, that worked out well, the world congratulated itself.

Human Rights leaders decided to capitalize their new found political clout. They demanded a direct voice in the UN, their request was granted in almost all of its extent. For a week, they would be allowed to set an exposition fair like. Spaces would be available for registered human rights organizations all around the world. For the first time, they would be allowed to gain worldwide press exposure for their demands, an exposition many governments feared and tried to stop. However, their efforts resulted futile without the support of western powers.

"The date is now officially set. This coming March the human rights exposition will meet the world for the first time. It promises to be a historical event celebrated by many, as a gigantic step forward in the fight to guarantee worldwide respect for human rights." informed host Marion Spencer for the BB world,

"The hype in social media couldn't been louder" Carlos Holder reported for CN.

The Russian, Chinese, Argentinian, Spanish media reported developments as they produced. Media giants, reporters, press agencies and freelance journalists from all around the world were getting their stuff ready for the News Fair and Expo to begin in less than a month, a chance to grab the best stories, to create lasting connections reaching far beyond in the world.

The time for the official announcement came, the point of no return. A huge multitude and crowd of journalists had been waiting for more than an hour in the streets, adjacent to the U.N. building. The N.Y. police watched over the security, keeping the perimeter. N.Y. policemen were scattered, guarding the perimeter and making room for the dignitaries' vehicles that were constantly arriving. They were mostly ambassadors from countries all around the world, some celebrities and personalities such as the UNICEF ambassador, Julia Smiths, the famous actress and the recognized social causes advocate and Academy Award winner, Scott Milken, and even Nobel Peace Prize winner Oti-U along with some musicians and singers. The crowds went crazy as their idols paraded in front of them, one after another, in a seemingly endless red carpet.

Helicopters from news channels, the military and the U.S. Secret Service flew mostly in circles around the scene, watching for any sign of unusual activity, guarding the security tight for the event and the arrival of the U.S.A. president. The event time was known, the president's exact arrival time for security reasons remained a secret. However, it could be told by the level of activity that was coming. Finally, approaching the U.N. building from the other side of the street, the Marine One started its descent upon the helipad, that energized the secret service agents who were in the U.N. building, the adjacent buildings and there were agents, in civil clothes, tactically mixed with the crowd.

Finally, the engines from the huge VH-3D Sea King Helicopter Marine One stopped and the solemnly uniformed marine infant descended to open and salute the president on his descending from the gorgeous and imposing aircraft. The president, a couple of minutes after the engine stopped, descended from the Marine One with agility. He was a slim and tall man in his fifties but energetic as a twenty something athlete. He paid back the salute to the marine, standing by the helicopter's door. He was known to take ceremonies seriously since he himself served in the Navy for years with honors. That fact, along with his gracious wife and children, took him a long way in politics creating a halo effect as a model of values and patriotism, making him even likable to the conservatives from which he didn't encounter very strong opposition even though he was a well defined democrat with liberal views.

He walked a few steps and got to where the U.N. delegation was waiting for him. He shook hands with the dignitaries and representatives there. They thanked his support for the human rights cause. Finally, after exchanging some words for a minute, the group walked up the podium under the inquisitive sight of the news cameras, where they could be seen from the streets and the U.N. esplanade. The crowd welcomed them with a warm applause ,a scene not seen perhaps since the electoral campaign. He waved thanks and walked to the microphone. He was not ahead of schedule and needed to hurry. He was a special guest and it was not the main inauguration. He had to make an impression, his first term as a president was coming to an end next year and although he enjoyed a wide popularity, he knew that, in politics, it was never time to slow the pace.

"Hello, people! How are you feeling today?" The crowd responded with enthusiasm and he smiled.

"Today is a good day and I can't help feeling happy. Today I am honored to be invited to be here before the world, but I am also humbled for the true hope that I am seeing here, in each and every one of your faces, and I know it took us a long hard way but we are finally here and let me tell you, it has taken a huge effort, both political and logistical, for the world to give voice to such brave human rights fighters. We deeply mourn those heroes who gave their life in the defense of human rights and dignity' causes all over the world and that, regretfully, won't be here to see the proud fruits of their heroic efforts. This marks the beginning of a new era for humanity, a new human era, we will stand again for human rights and liberties inspired by the compassion you have all shown and the sympathy for others human being's suffering. The world will no longer tolerate abuses without raising its voice in denounce." The President stopped, interrupted by a wave of applause from the crowd, just steps away from the podium,

"We should congratulate ourselves, we should thank the governments from all the countries that form the U.N., for their tenacious efforts in their compromise with human rights, thanks to every single head of state and their teams but most of all thanks to you all. The first stone is now set. It is up to you to make this congress work. God bless you all!" The crowd again erupted in an effusive and prolonged cheer and applause as the President shook hands with the UN delegates and the U.N. General Secretary, and posed for the historical photo, leaving shortly afterwards.

35.

SOMEWHERE NEAR MEXICO CITY, ESTADO DE MEXICO, MEXICO

A couple of tough, tall dark men dressed in regular clothes watched over the house and its surroundings like two guardian dogs. They moved constantly patrolling one or two blocks around and away the house perimeter and back. Their guns concealed under their clothes. A block away there was a bus stop. They stood there, from time to time, pretending to be ordinary people, waiting for the bus, seeing everything, trusting no one.

The house was a white thick walled construction of about three stories high as could be seen from the street, bricks and mortar fortified its front wall, disguised with some plants, trying to make the house look like an average neighborhood house and, to a very great extent, it looked like a regular house except for its tainted windows and the fact that neighbors preferred not to walk in front of it often. They were suspicions but nobody dared to denounce unusual activities. The government and organized crime mafias were known to keep such kind of safe houses all around the country for activities nobody dared to mention. The neighbors paid blind eyes and kept minding their own business, afraid to piss off the wrong kind of people with a denounce.

The neighborhood was in a middle to low income level on the outskirts of Mexico, well into the state of Mexico, a state known to be headquarters for many feared mafia, who has constructed low income titanic house complexes, originally built for low-income families that ended up being hidden as refugees for many criminals, resembling the Brazilian favelas, except for the fact that they extended over plain and bigger terrains with streets and places nobody dared to enter, not even the estate police corps.

It was a perfect place to hide something illegal or to plan something big and clandestine and Lt. Martinez knew it perfectly well. That's why he got the house in the first place, to hide his little arsenal and meet with old fellows of a like to plan stuff.

Lucia didn't show up. Her whereabouts remained a mystery. They needed to act and Mr. Salomon Hajji had been clear, we are all in now, Martinez!... and Martinez reacted the best way he knew. He would unleash hell over the little tyrant. He would become the one that drags Martin Trujillo to hell, where he belongs.

Mr. Salomon had left the country. They would know what happened, government people would hunt him like a pig all around the world. Perhaps some days and kilometers of advantage wouldn't make for much, but it was still better than staying in Mexico and wait for a certain death.

Four men looked over the blueprints on the table, a decaying light bulb provided light, creating a tense atmosphere and it was not for less, the conversation got intense, agreements, disagreements and a cluster of dead cigarettes in the ashtray.

It wasn't an easy job to plan for such a mess. It would take a lot of firepower and men power to overcome the presidential guard, even for a moment, and to know how fast they could get reinforcements if they screw it, even by a millisecond. They would be surrounded and facing a certain death or worse.

New intel data was considered in the plan. The men there would take their time in the right plan to perform an army's duty with far less resources. One thing was for certain, they had to be deadly and ruthless. Max shock and violence required.

36.

NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK

Monday morning in New York City. The clock struck six in the morning and the city was getting ready to start a new week. News had started earlier, way earlier. Monday newspapers already piled up inside their vending machines, fresh news to digest along the coffee and breakfast. There, in New York, thousands of miles north from Mexico, something appeared printed on the New York papers that would rock the boat of Mexican political life, the first drops of water in a tempestuous storm yet to fall over Mexican political elites.

MEXICAN GOVERNMENT UNDER SIEGE OVER HUMAN RIGHTS VIOLATIONS; MEXICO'S PRESIDENT ACCUSED OF GENOCIDE.

New York, N.Y.

Editorial.

"HE ORDERED THE ASSASINATIONS OF THE OPPOSITION PARTY LEADERS ON PROTEST DAY." sustained Jose Murguia 47, a former transport businessman and opposition party member now accused of being part of an organized mafia charges, he denies "if those charges had a bit of truth, then, why would I have been granted asylum by the U.S. government?" he said. The department of state granted the political asylum status, confirming his version.

But Jose is not alone. Along with him, four other now refugees, including two young women, escaped from Mexico, hidden in the bottom of a luxury yacht, which, they said, belonged to a high ranking Mexican government official, risking their lives in a heart stopping odyssey to reach U.S. territory and freedom. Now they are here to denounce and sue the Mexican government and president Martin Trujillo for what they call Genocide.

Claudia Murrieta, 29, and mother of a deceased girl; Laura Godinez, 52, whose husband was assassinated by the political intelligence office along with their two children; Mr. Garcia, 46, and José Murguia are here to testify before the grand jury about what is happening in Mexico. Byron and Schiff law firm is representing the plaintiff in, what promises to become a huge case against the Mexican government, a case that "will reveal a true 21st century shameful genocide happening just inches south of our south border," according to lawyer Robert Higgins, in charge of a large group of investigators, specialists and lawyers "devoting everything to a just humanitarian cause"

"None of us is making a penny out of this." Robert Higgins commented for the New York paper.

When asked about evidence, he looked straight into our eyes and said "That's what makes the case and we have hard and sound proofs that will leave no space for doubt." he answered, but we insisted "Do you have proofs that the president Martin Trujillo ordered the assassinations of the political leaders the day of the protests massacre?" We shot the question straight to lawyer Higgins but the question didn't surprise him at all. On the contrary, a smile appeared on his face and answered "Yes, I have true proofs that president Martin Trujillo ordered the assassinations and you can quote me on that."

The Alien Tort Statute Act is an old act that grants the U.S. court system jurisdiction over human rights violations committed overseas by alien governments. It can act in an official capacity against alien civilians.

"That has worked in the past. However, we are not talking about criminal prosecution of foreign officers, the act does not provide for that. It's about tort, if the verdict favors the plaintiff, they would be granted a certain amount of money that the defendant would be sentenced by the court of law to pay." explained Professor David Le Pen from NYU. "However, it deals a huge moral blow if the defendant loses. It's a moral victory more than anything." he added.

We tried to contact Mexico's Foreign Relations Secretary. The office responded that the government of Mexico was not aware of such developments but denied any human rights wrongdoing. In a press communicate, they stated "a response will be released once we know further and all accusations will be addressed in due time. However, the Mexican government deny and condemn any human rights abuse."

This could mean a heavy blow to the Mexican government and president Trujillo in a time when human rights protection has taken the world stage with crucial figures, such as the U.S. president along with many others supporting the cause. "Human Rights protection must be top priority in the 21st century," the U.S. president said last week before the congress, "no nation could ask to be considered a free nation without a clear compromise with human rights protection."

"The U.N. human rights exposition is just weeks away, this just adds for the expectancy, the extent this event will take can only be known in due time. What happens next remains to be seen. The truth shall be known" Robert Higgins concluded...

The news spread at a lightning speed and just minutes after posted on the New York Paper website, many other newspapers around the country published, both printed and on their websites, similar news. The social network hype catapulted the subject to the top trending topic commented worldwide in just a matter of hours.

37.

OFFICIAL PRESIDENTIAL RESIDENCE, MEXICO CITY

"What the Fuck is this?!!!!" The hysterical enraged scream could be heard way beyond the walls of the President's office.

Staff rushed in fright and nervously through the hallways of the presidential residency, trying to gather information from all the government dependencies on all levels, an emergency meeting was summoned by President Martin Trujillo and all the cabinet was ordered to be there.

The secretary for internal affairs was already flying to Mexico City from Tampico, in a Mexican air force jet, after suspending all meeting scheduled, to return to Mexico City as soon as he knew of the New York Paper publication. The industry secretary was also returning from a business promotion tour in Costa Rica. He was expected to arrive a little later to the urgent meeting, the rest of the cabinet was in Mexico city already or very close to it.

"Shall we summon the American ambassador for consultation?" asked the Secretary of Economy, with an obviously disconcerted tone.

"No, not yet, we could risk being misunderstood. We don't want to involve the U.S. government in this. We should gather more information first." explained the Secretary for Internal Affairs.

"I had an informal conversation with the U.S. Secretary of State. He told me they were not fully aware of this, but are moving to gather more information about all this." the Secretary of Foreign Relations said,

"They are playing with us. How can they not know if they granted asylum to those four, so called witnesses?" the president remarked.

"They grant thousands of asylum applications every year. It's possible they overlooked those ones, Mr. President" added the Secretary of Foreign Relations.

"Attorney general, I want to know, are we legally prepared to deal with this?"

"Yes, Mr. President, we are already working the papers to grant you diplomatic immunity. We have a legal task force reviewing the matter along with our legal counselors in the U.S. through the Mexican embassy in Washington D.C. and the general consulate in New York City. They inform me they have established first contact with the Byron & Schiff firm in New York." the attorney general explained,

"Good, keep it up, try to cover this up, no matter what it takes, is that understood?"

"Yes, Mr. President, as you order, sir."

The president fist hammered the table, revealing his frustration. President Martin Trujillo's expression soon turned pale. He stood up from the round table and took his right hand to his chin; he walked a few steps, thinking. Then, he turned around and aimed his eyes at the Political Intelligence Office Head, General Esteban Amaro,

"Is it in any way possible for them to have evidence of the assassinations, General?" he asked,

"No, sir, that would be impossible, they are bluffing, you have nothing to worry about." General Amaro responded in a reassuring manner.

We have to get rid of some witnesses a.s.a.p. in case they actually have something.

38.

GUADALAJARA, MEXICO

He has been there for almost an hour. No sound was coming outside his office. There was silence, absolute silence. His instructions had been clear and precise, no interruptions, no matter what, no matter who. However, the staff started to feel uneasy about the sudden reclusion of their boss. An old man like himself has to be careful with his health, Lately, he had not been feeling all right, it could be told by his skin tone and that worried everybody around him.

He refused to see a doctor. He even postponed his annual health check up, which was ,by itself, a strange thing for him since he had always been so keen on living and making his life longer through alimentation and constant monitoring. The Hajji Enterprises Chief Executive Office looked sealed closed altogether.

Mr. Salomon Hajji tried desperately to contact Lt. Martinez. He had to stop the assassinations before it all went badly. What he read in the New York Paper was a game changer, a 180 grade twist in events. They had to react accordingly or risk disaster.

Finally, he made contact. Lt. Martinez picked up his call. He sounded disconcerted by the unplanned phone call.

"Yes, Mr. Salomon?" He responded inexpressively.

"Martinez, the plan just ran into an unscheduled complication" Mr. Salomon added, sounding a bit in a hurry over the phone.

"But we are ready Mr. Salomon, what is it?" asked an anxious Lt. Martinez.

"Something came up in the news, the world is going to fall over president Trujillo, but the real problem is... we didn't know anything about it!"

"How could we miss something like that? We have contacts well into the government. There is no corner of the government out of our reach, Mr. Salomon!!"

"Exactly, this does not smell well, this is coming from outside, we should not rush to kill Trujillo until we know further. I'm already into it, Martinez. Stand by, I have a hunch we'll have to change the target."

Mr. Salomon Hajji ended the call. He laid himself in the chair, taking a deep breath, giving himself the benefit of a couple of minutes just to think. Finally, something came up to his mind, he energized, got up from the chair, walked to the door and cracked it open.

Everybody turned their heads in direction to the office. The sudden appearance of Mr. Hajji was a relief for them, some were already thinking the old man had an attack or something. Mr. Hajji ordered his secretary,

"Clara, get Byron & Schiff from New York on the phone, get me through when Peter Byron is on the phone."

"Yes, Mr. Hajji."

Mr. Hajji got into his office again. He was reviewing things in his mind, trying to make sense of it all, Who was it? Perhaps...

It's time to have a chat with an old friend...

39.

NEW YORK, NEW YORK

The distinctive sound of that call was the first thing that caught his attention, not the fact it sounded any different. Peter Byron just had a hunch about that call, something interesting for their case awaited on the other side of the line. He thought no more and took the call.

"My old friend, Peter!" and expressive voice crossed the phone line.

"Salomon, you old fool! So many years I thought you were dead!" a surprised Peter Byron responded. He was puzzled about the call, 'Could it be just an old friend saying hello?' Unlikely from a man like Salomon and he knew.

"How are you, my friend?" Salomon exclaimed.

"I'm fine. How about you, Salomon?" Peter asked in return.

"As good as a man our age can be, Peter."

"I'm glad to hear that, Salomon. I'm glad you are ok. So let's cut to chase, shall we?"

"All right, you haven't changed, Peter. I remember I used to call you Peter Bottom line. Haha"

"You haven't changed, either. You haven't lost the taste for bad jokes. Hahaha."

"All right, old buddy. What is it all about you suing the Mexican government?"

"I see I've got your attention, Salomon! It's quite simply, that president of yours is a tyrant in disguise and we'll parade him naked for the world to see his atrocities. I'm sorry there's no deal you can bargain, my friend, if that's what you are calling for." Peter added firmly, stating his case with conviction.

"Oh, wow! Wait a minute, Peter, I haven't said anything about no deal, I don't intend to negotiate anything in behalf of anybody. This time, my friend, we are on the same side. I have an interest in opposition with President Trujillo." Salomon explained.

"All right, Salomon, what are you up to?" asked a confused Peter.

"I cannot discuss it over the phone, Peter. I'll explain myself when I see you in person."

"In person?"

"That's right, matters of the most importance require it. Trust me, it's in your own interest, Peter." Salomon added in a reaffirming manner.

"When and where?" asked Peter.

"I'll see you in New York in a few days."

"All right, until then, Salomon."

40.

SOMEWHERE NEAR MADRID, SPAIN

It had been days since she woke up for the first time, just to find herself trapped in that room, caged like a wild animal. It was little she could tell after days there. She was now in a better condition. In spite of the fact he got her trapped, had been kind enough to throw her food every now and then. She ate and rest, ate and rest. Good sleeping was too much to ask for.

She had lost the sense of time. She only knew if it was night or day by the hole in the roof. It was day, probably midday according to Lucia, when the door of the room cracked open and a shade of light invaded the room. She guessed the room must have had a door. However, she couldn't distinguish where it was until that moment.

Two muscular men got through the door into the room. She instinctively put her guard. They were not going to get anything from her that easy. She could probably kill, at least, one of them, even in her precarious condition, but there was no need to do that. One of them referred politely to her,

"Lady, put these clothes on, we are going for a walk." said one of them, throwing to the floor some women clothes intended for her.

It was surely a surprise. She didn't say anything, just got to where the clothes were and put them on. The three of them walked outside. She was glad she could leave that hideous room, hopefully, forever.

Not very far from there, the mood was completely different. Antonio celebrated, he popped open a bottle of his best wines. He had company, his friend and sponsor, the investment banker Joseph Galá, was celebrating with him,

"Cheers, my friend! For the soon to be, Antonio's playground!" Antonio exclaimed with jubilee over to a still cautious Joseph.

The snow was slowly receding and faint shades of green could be noted on the mountains of Miraflores de la Sierra near Madrid, a marvelous view from Antonio's country house.

"Antonio, I have to remind you, our partners are getting impatient and uneasy with the situation"

"Damn! Joseph, tell them to step off my neck, everything is just fucking going as planned, don't you see fool?" Antonio infuriated for Joseph's comments.

"All right, Antonio! What comes next?"

"Easy, Joseph, they present the case with the evidence I provided, the congress brings Trujillo down but I keep my contracts, no string attached, I take over gas and oil distribution in Mexico at first." Antonio's eyes glared.

"But that's not the best part, Joseph. Our man Felipe gets to the power and opens the uranium for us!"

"Our partners will be satisfied to hear about it."

"Have you spoken to our man, Felipe?"

"Yes, he is getting everything ready. He has the congress support. It seems president Trujillo has been of much help, offending them, casting them automatically into our side, I can tell you, those dogs are hungry they are longing to take Trujillo down!"

"Cheers, Antonio! For our victory and conquest!"

"Cheers my friend, Joseph! Tell our partners not to worry."

"I'll tell them to open the arcs for the money to flow, we should be finishing our acquisition by the end of this month."

"Good, Joseph, we will need Mines &Exploration Resources for our purposes and we'll have it fully under our command."

41.

THE POLITICAL INTELLIGENCE OFFICE HEADQUARTERS, MEXICO

The place was an old bunker constructed for the top government officers during the cold war and the Cuba missile crisis. Being Mexico in the middle of the U.S. and Cuba, it couldn't risk its government to be nuked away in case some nuclear missile erred the target or a radioactive wave reached its shores. It was never actually used for that original purpose but soon found itself serving other purposes such as clandestine prison for spies and political targets, the place where all disappearances were found. They even had a nickname for it, "The Magic Hat".

The Mexican government decided to formalize and the Political Intelligence Office was created. Many years later, they still used that nickname only that, this time, it was the codename for the Political Intelligence Office Headquarters. Only two kind of people could go into that place, you go in either as a part of the structure or as a prisoner. The difference is that the former goes in and out alive, the latter doesn't.

People speculated about its mere existence, some said it was below a military base, some others said it was close to a maximum security prison, none of them were even close. However, it was known to be a high tech facility, modernized with American tech gear.

The war room was quite a sight, screens glowed everywhere, three or four telecommunication devices were adapted to the table. It was all tactile. There was no corner in Mexico you couldn't be seen, either by satellite or by camera, and all the police and military resources were one touch of screen away.

General Esteban Amaro knew it perfectly well, the almighty and feared commander of the Political Intelligence Office was contemplating an option few times used before. It involved high risks since it meant carrying operations outside Mexico and if something went wrong, not even himself, the untouchable general, could escape harmless. Extreme caution was to be exercised but decisive action was required.

"Order my General!" a solemnly loud voice exclaimed and an image appeared on one of the screens. It was a man that seemed to be in his mid forties, slim but with a well worked out body. He was Capt. Juan Ramirez, head of a special unit, the so called international situation work force or IWF. They were a military trained team whose specialty was to smuggle themselves through any border and carry discrete but effective directed murders of high profile and sensitive targets through the use of unconventional methods. They were known inside the Political Intelligence Office as The Ghosts.

"Captain, I have a delicate mission that I want you to carry flawlessly. There is no room for error here, Captain!" General Amaro pointed out.

"Yes, sir, it shall be done as you order, as always! What's the mission, General?"

"You will smuggle into the U.S., reach New York City, locate and kill a man, making it look like an accident, maybe a heart attack, something credible. It's up to you, Captain. I just want discretion."

"Yes, sir, I understand perfectly. Send me the target specs and instructions."

"You will receive them in a couple of minutes, captain, start the mission A.S.A.P.!"

"Yes, General, Sir!"

The communication ended. General Esteban Amaro relaxed on his chair, he put his boots over the table under the incredulous glaze of his subordinates.

"What The FUCK are you looking at? It's my fucking table. I am God here, do you understand? I'll fucking piss on it if I want to!!"

42.

NEW YORK, NEW YORK

"I'm glad you are feeling alright Frank, we are also feeling good, I think we are getting too comfortable here in the U.S.A. The problem is, we'll have to go back to Mexico eventually" said Jose regretting their situation, a sense of despair could be distinguished in his words and making an effort, Jose took a sip of his beer, fixating his eyes outside the window. It was getting late and the rest of the witnesses were already in bed but Frank and he overstayed at the kitchen table around some beer packs. It had become a habit for both men who had a lot in common.

"You'll get back to a different Mexico, thanks to your bravery, Jose, you will actually make a difference. You will see. I trust Robert, he is kind of nerdish but he is a good lawyer, I can tell, he's got balls although well hidden inside that softy girly voice of him, hahaha!" loyal to his style, Frank couldn't help making a joke. They both laughed out loudly.

"How is it that you lost your job, Frank? What happened?" Jose demanded.

"Some people are just a pain in the ass, Jose. I just lost it with some shitty man who happened to be the regional manager."

"Really, how was it?" asked Jose surprised.

"I was guarding the entrance as a good security guard should do, all of a sudden, an arrogant young asshole appeared in front of me, ordering me to open the door, I refused and asked for his id and authorization. He insisted and started yelling at me. I grabbed the little bastard by the arm, applied some pressure and the weakling fellow crumbled down to the floor in pain."

A common laugh erupted but, suddenly, Frank's expression turned a little sour.

"I don't know, Jose, it's just not the kind of life I imagined, sometimes I don't know what's my place in all of this. I've been lost ever since my Luciana passed away, those were good times, that's why I stayed in Mexico even after Luciana was gone. I just couldn't let go. I hope God makes me useful again someday, Jose."

"What are you talking about Frank? You just saved five lives and probably saved a country at the same time!!!" "Stop pitting yourself man!"

"Cheers! Jose, alright, enough for the girly moment. Let's have more beer!"

"Finally, some sense!"

Meanwhile, many miles south, just by the border, a group of five men waited for their chance to smuggle past the border patrol, the wall and the desert. They would smuggle through the border, in broad daylight at the time they knew the border patrol was a little bit off guard and they would do it through the roughest part of the Arizona desert, a place light on vigilance but known to be deadly, desert deadly for untrained men.

43.

NEW YORK, NEW YORK

The plane landed on schedule. The clock indicated two o'clock and that meant he was barely on time. He would have to be in Manhattan by three. It was raining in New York or, at least, in Queens and rain drops landed furiously over the landing path, raising a wet pavement, a smell so typical and emotional Salomon remembered well.

Salomon Hajji was now in New York to see his old mate Peter Byron. He left JFK international airport on a private charter; it rushed through Queens Highway on its way to Manhattan, the heart of New York City.

"Peter, hi, it's Salomon. I am on my way to your office, I'll be there in half an hour hopefully." indicated Salomon over the phone to Peter.

"Good Salomon, I'll see you here. How was your trip?"

"It was terrible, as always Peter, but I'm here!"

44.

U.S.A.—MEXICO INTERNATIONAL BORDER

Capt. Juan Ramirez and his ghosts had prepared something special for their mission. They were completely unarmed and just equipped each with a compass and a backpack, filled with stuff necessary to survive a five-day desert walk north well into Arizona, U.S.A.

They readied a special poison, long known by Mexican indigenous tribes, such as the Mazahuas and the Purepechas, tribes with an ancient knowledge of plant usage both for good and for worse. The poison consisted of a liquid mixture of plants and mushrooms that, when mixed together, develop a high concentration of a neural toxic that can bring the entire nervous system of an adult male to a halt in just seconds, a heart attack or lung collapse can be easily caused with a very low dosage.

Each of them carried a small bottle filled with the deadly toxin. They planned to kill, at least, one of the witnesses. They would locate them and get close enough to inject the poison. Unfortunately for them, the only way to deliver the toxin was directly into the blood torrent but once dead, the poison was untraceable, undetectable. It would all look like a natural heart attack. They had to find a way to deliver the poison unseen and escape.

Around 3:00 pm, the U.S. Border patrol made it guard shift. They set that time of the day for the shift because it was when the desert heat is at it most. The midday sun had glared over the sand and dirt, warming it to very hot temperatures, making it unbearable to have a walk through it. It is known to many that it is not a good idea to walk the desert during the day, extreme temperatures bring about dehydration really fast and one starts to sweat profusely, losing salt and other important body minerals. It's harsh, specially for the eyes, the sun reflecting in the sand and dirt harms the eyes, the incandescent light can be really harmful for the human eye. Such heat also affects detection systems, especially those that rely on thermal images, they go blur and one cannot distinguish between a cat and a human being, even drones go blind during those warm hours.

Capt. Juan Ramirez and his team knew it. It was a perfect time to smuggle into the U.S., completely undetected. They were trained to manage themselves well enough in hostile environments, even deserts at its deadliest hours. They trained along with the U.S. Rangers once.

They left Nogales in a taxi early that morning. They cruised east of Nogales for a couple of hours until the taxi stopped in a tiny town called La Chingada, almost deserted, no man could be seen, just a couple of unassuming Indian women and children. The decaying typical border town was deserted, just like most of the Mexican border tiny towns. Most of its male inhabitants left years ago to work in the U.S.A., leaving just women and old men behind. Most of them never returned home. Also, many fled from those towns when the drug cartels and human traffickers, known as coyotes, widened their clandestine routes into the U.S., crossing many towns such as La Chingada.

Poverty and oblivion made a sad look of those towns. The very few people left were blind to outsiders. They followed the silent procession of their lives, deliberately unaware of visitors. There was a time when the Mexican and American police tried to obtain information from them. At first, they cooperated but, then, cruel reprisal from the cartel came. Needless to say that all cooperation with the police ceased and ever since the police hadn't even bothered to ask, knowing they won't tell. They wouldn't risk another cartel reprisal.

That particular town was well located. From there, the team could get to the border in less than four hours but, more importantly, it offered a downhill walk to the border with panoramic sight of the protected border, in such a way they could notice on time if there was any border patrol unscheduled activity around the fence or hundreds of meters behind it.

Capt. Juan Ramirez was delighted. There was almost no wind blowing and humidity levels seemed acceptable, heat was tough but bearable, better than he expected, better than was announced by the red moon, just two days ago. It was time to go. They started walking north and slowly, aware of the danger of wasting energy before time, in the way they checked their stuff to be complete, they checked time and mostly, with the telescope, they scanned the border for border patrol activity. It was all ok. They saw the patrols clearing away from the fence to perform the guard shift, leaving the border unpatrolled for the next couple of hours, not a lot of time but enough for a trained professional group to get well enough into the desert and avoid being caught by the border patrol.

After the walk, they reached the fence, one by one each man crossed it patiently. The fence was equipped with movement detection alarms that were mostly ignored since they could not distinguish between humans and coyotes. Besides, nobody at the border patrol expected somebody to try and cross the border in broad daylight and those who tried, carrying improvised gear and a couple of bottled waters, found themselves begging to be caught by the border patrol ,just a few hours later to avoid death by dehydration and sunburn. The coyotes stopped trying those routes years ago after so many deaths put them on the international spotlight.

They got into the Arizona desert effortless. They were now three days away from the coyote's safe house, where they could change clothes, get their gear and have a bath. From there, they would be just hours away from New York and their target.

45.

MIRAFLORES DE LA SIERRA, SPAIN

"So much for the ride, uh?" said Lucia as she found herself trapped in another room, bigger and with better illumination. "At least, it's cleaner than the last one!" she said with sarcasm.

There was a big window this time and it was made of an extremely thick glass, making it impossible to break or cut whatsoever. She quickly realized that the only thing that had changed was the illumination. She was as trapped as before.

There was an old, small and rusty bed and, close to it, there was an old TV without antenna of any kind and, for what it looked like, the room seemed old, much resembling a country cabin if any. The window seemed new as well as some parts of the wall. There was a steel door blocking her escape.

She sat on the bed, immersed in her thoughts. She had so many questions but she preferred to consider a escape plan. Days had passed and she was still alive, which was a good thing and she knew it. Antonio had no plans to kill her, at least, for the moment but that could change and she should be far away when that happened.

She sat there for around five minutes, staring at the window and its frame, aiming for a weak spot from which she could start, but it looked metal solid, no such point available. Tough luck this time again. Suddenly, just when she was about to feel frustrated one more time, a sound of something like a radio or a TV started to be perceived by her ears. Although it was a very low sound, barely hearable, that caught her attention, she followed the sound through the wall, her hands on it, motioning and sensing around every inch of wall, probably, searching for a hole or an explanation and, just like a human radar, she moved her hands around the wall, touching every inch of it until she detected a tiny hole in the wall. The place was old and the walls were made of wood. There was a small crack made by bugs that her captors had not detected. Probably her luck was changing. She hoped so.

She scratched the wall with her fingernails, tiny pieces fell crumbling as she used her fingernail like a tiny drill. She managed to make the hole a little bit bigger to allow light to pass through it, not only light but sound. The noise she was hearing became a little clearer. It was a TV. She could now distinguish it well enough to tell, she looked through the hole with her right eye and discovered something unexpected. She saw a woman in her late forties and a young boy trapped in a very similar room. They had a TV and an old bed, just like her, and they didn't look happy. Then, she noticed the surveillance camera on the roof, which was panoramic but mostly aimed at the floor and window, for what it looked like. Luckily, it seemed the wall and the hole seemed to be on a blind spot for the camera. 'Perfect!' she thought and finally, a smile appeared on her face. The wooden wall was all rotten. It would take just a little effort to bring it down. However, she had to know who were those people, what were they up to but, mostly, they had to elaborate a escape plan and wait for the precise moment. The field was getting a little more even or so it seemed.

The hostages in the next room were Jose Murguia's kidnapped family. They were now a wall away from Lucia and possibly from freedom.

Meanwhile, just a few meters away from them, grim orders arrived. Antonio had ordered the execution and disposal of Maria Murguia and her son, Jose.

Benancio and a couple of guys were the ones in charge of carrying out the mission no later than today. Antonio had thought it was unnecessary to hold them captive since the case had hit the press and it was world news. He could not afford being accused of kidnap in his native Spain while taking over an entire country.

He was considering his options when it came to Lucia. 'Why not just rape her badly and then get rid of her body?' Something inexplicable to him stopped him from doing it .He used those rooms in the past for things like that. He had drugged and raped many women before in his college years and not a single one of them dared to accuse him. He had always been powerful and feared.

But Jose Murguia's family wouldn't receive any more consideration. They were scheduled to die.

46.

NEW YORK, NEW YORK

"So you are asking me to just flat out hold the case back to avoid threatening president Trujillo's brutal regime, Salomon? Have you gone mad?!" Peter Byron was about to lose it. He had heard Salomon for long enough and he was considering the old man delusional. The discussion was really heated.

"Yes, Peter, but only for a few days, I need time, it's not about Martin Trujillo only, we will stop his repressing crusade .You have my word on it, we will stop the killings!"

"He's a murderer, Salomon, he is beyond redemption, beyond any hope or trust, he must go!" Peter Byron stood up in anger from his chair and added,

"I have had enough, Salomon. You should be ashamed of your position!"

Salomon stood up and, in a louder tone of voice, added "You never listen, Peter, do you? I have proofs, something worse will happen! Can't you see you are being used precisely to carry this on, just like a petty chess pawn?"

"It is beyond doubt you have gone crazy Salomon but I won't listen to you anymore!" Peter defined.

"All right, you old fool, but before you do something you would regret, take a careful look at this!" Salomon reached his briefcase and took a big envelope and violently tossed it over Peter's desk.

"There it is, Peter! I have written my phone number. Just take a look at it. Consider giving me more time. That's all I ask Peter, just some days more to further investigate on things. There are people behind this plot and you wouldn't even imagine what they are capable of doing. I have probably lost one of my best and most trusted agents, investigating this, at least, give me a damn week, you fool!"

The wooden door closed briskly behind Salomon as he started to walk down the hallway, looking agitated and pale on his way to the elevator. The hallway seemed longer and longer after every small step, as he tried to walk along it trying to hide his sudden dizziness. But his breathe turned heavy and his strength started to wane. He left a little cough escape from his mouth and a sudden chill paralyzed his left arm. He felt a strong chest oppression. 'A heart attack!!!I might not make it!' he thought alarmed as his body started to lose balance. He quickly made an effort and reached the wall to lean against. A couple of office staff noticed the man in a hurry and energized themselves to help over the old man. Time was running out. By the time they arrived, Salomon's face looked deadly pale but he was still conscious. He reached for his pocket, making an incredible effort.

"Call Peter Byron!!!" he expressed with a deep yet low and weak voice, a young fellow didn't think twice, he jumped in Peter's direction screaming for Peter to hurry up. Peter got out of his office running. He walked as fast as he could until he reached an agonizing Salomon, clinging to his very last moment. His eyes were wide open when he saw how pale Salomon was. He was shocked to see his old friend dying. He knew he would not make it. Salomon stared at Peter begging with his gaze, muttering some words. Peter got the message. He bent, as close to his friend's mouth as he could, to hear what he had to say.

"Peter, take this phone, it has my contacts..." a sudden cough interrupted, his energy was vanishing. He struggled to continue,

"Stop Martinez, find Lucia" "Lucia... Lucia..."

"Salomon, hold on my friend! You will live." said a touched Peter.

"Antonio Cazador, the true enemy is behind him, find Lucia... I'm so sorryyy..."

Those were his last words, his body turned stiff and the bright in his eyes was gone. Peter closed his late friend's eyes in a sign of respect as the elevator door sounded open, letting two paramedics in, rushing towards Salomon.

Too late, Salomon had already passed away...

47.

MIRAFLORES DE LA SIERRA, SPAIN

"It ends tonight!" A decided Lucia made up her mind. She improvised a hand knife, sharp enough to slit anyone's throat. She was feeling ok, fully awake again. It was time for a little bad guy ass kicking and then a flawless escape. She would not leave that damn place alone, the woman and child next door would come along. It was their lucky day.

The wall was ready, a little push would take it down. But manners first, she had to introduce herself so she got close to the hole in the wall and, in a quiet voice, tried to make contact. Little Jose was the one closer to the wall and the first one to hear Lucia. With curiosity, he approached the wall, found the hole and met Lucia. Her voice sounded lovely to him, just like a little fairy from the tales and he wasn't far from it, she certainly had the looks of a fairy but she had the hornet's sting also.

Lucia also contacted Mrs. Murguia through her son. She explained the plan to them, "We are leaving tonight, Mrs. Murguia, Jose, wait for me to bring down the wall, then you know what to do!" said a confident Lucia. Her confidence glared a ray of hope over Jose Murguia's family. They were not yet aware of it but Lucia was about to save their lives.

Time came and night fell. Lucia moved according to her plan. The wall came down and they finally saw each other. At first, Mrs. Murguia thought she was a beautiful woman and felt somewhat disappointed. She unconsciously associated woman with weakness but, this time, she was dead wrong about Lucia and she would realize about that soon. Neither she nor her son moved as they had agreed. They both stood below the camera's blind spot. Lucia did too but from another point. The bad guys would hurry to the room the moment they found the prisoners no longer appear on their screens. They would open the door on Mrs. Murgia's side, they would be overconfident. What can a woman and her little child do? A bad mistake, Lucia would get them badly. Then, the three of them would escape.

Lucia had it just right, just a few minutes passed and then footsteps could be heard approaching the door from the other side. Two men could be distinguished from the sounds, one of them was big according to Lucia's speculations. The bigger they are, the harder they fall. The kid could be a little impressed but it was necessary roughness.

The door sounded open. A disgusted male voice could be heard cursing, insulting seconds before opening. His bad breathe filled the room, a smell of cheap wine and pork food as he stepped in the room.

Suddenly, darkness seemed to have sucked him in, quickly his partner, a second pig stepped in, but the poor fellow couldn't even articulate a word, an expert deadly movement slit his throat, splashing blood, mixing it with the desperately sought air. The man quickly drowned with his own blood and joined his partner in hell. Lucia had executed with deadly efficiency. She was back, no doubt about it.

"Quick! Follow me, stay with me always, we are going out!" ordered Lucia. She took a handgun from one of the corpses on the floor. The kid was scared but there was no time for explanations .The three of them moved outside the room into a dark and grey hallway. It was their first time in months for the Murguia family, no time to think about it, they quickly reached the stairs at the end of the hallway. Lucia pointed the gun up in case somebody showed up, but nobody appeared. 'Could it be that there were only two guards?' she thought when a gun detonation pounded on the wall close to them. She aimed fast, instinctively fired. Seconds later, a body hit the floor.

They reached the upper floor and it was a quite different panorama, a luxury villa for what it looked like, but deserted. They walked towards the house entrance and saw a domestic servant, who panicked. Lucia grabbed him, pointing the gun at him "Where's the exit???" she shouted, threatening. The old man hesitated "Take us there or I'll fucking kill you, like I just did with your amigos!" the terrifying man walked towards the entrance and opened the door. They walked a parkway until they reached a huge stone wall. In the middle, there was a heavy door. The servant got to a console stuck on the wall, he entered some numbers and the door cracked open. Lucia hit his head with the gun and the servant fell unconscious. They were free now, the Spanish sierra laid before them and freedom along with it. The three of them went outside into the wilderness, running free, at last...

48.

NEW YORK, U.S.A.

"Who is Martinez? What was Salomon up to?" Peter Byron was intrigued by those questions he had been thinking all night. He hadn't called to stop Martinez as Salomon requested, but he was about to.

He took Salomon's phone from his desk, looked at its contact list until he spotted the name Martinez. He pressed to call him, still wondering about what he would find. Seconds later, a Spanish voice answered "Señor Hajji, what's going on?" Peter spoke little Spanish.

"Tu eres Martinez, amigo de Salomon Hajji?" he asked. Lt. Martinez was surprised.

"Who is this?" he demanded,

"I'm an old friend of Salomon, my name is Peter Byron."

"Peter Byron from New York?" responded Martinez.

"Yes, the very same, Salomon was here to see me yesterday."

"I know. He told me. Where is he? Why are you calling from his personal phone?" the tone sobered, "I'm afraid your friend Salomon Hajji is dead. He suffered a heart attack yesterday after leaving my office. I'm calling you because he asked me to, I'm sorry." Lt. Martinez was just shocked, his voice cracked and became lower.

"What else did he tell you?"

"He asked me to tell you to stop, just that. I don't know what he was talking about, just that simple, he insisted very much on it, that's why I'm calling."

"Ok, we will stop the attack then." Martinez regretted and added,

"Poor country of ours and we are supposed to let the bastard get along with it!" Peter Byron was surprised 'What in God's name has he been doing?' he thought. He could not resist it.

"What attack, Martinez?"

"We were about to kill president Trujillo, Peter, not anymore!" Think Peter, come on! He repeated to himself.

"All right. Look, Martinez, we must stay in touch, hang on to this phone, I will contact you later, trust me."

"I will, Peter, it is untraceable anyway. I'm in no danger." a minute of silence passed. Then Martinez added,

"You'd better have a plan to stop Trujillo, Peter, or I will on my own," and then he hung up.

'This complicates all, What are we missing in this picture? Peter thought, still grabbing the phone as he was trying to understand the late Salomon Hajji's thoughts... Damn!

49.

NEAR MADRID, SPAIN

"We cannot go directly into the closest town, boy!" a fed up Lucia expressed loudly.

"Why not, I'm tired, I'm cold, I'm afraid. Let's get some help!" Jose was insisting when his mother interrupted him with authority.

"That's enough, Jose! Shut up and obey Lucia, she's the one that got us free, you should thank her!" the boy listened to his mother, swallowed his words and tried to get himself together but not before throwing Lucia an anger look. Lucia didn't even bother arguing with the boy for the rest of the long walk among trees and rocks downhill.

After some hours, they reached a roadside. They saw a sign that indicated a gas station, a motel and a public pay phone. 'Just what I needed!' thought Lucia. She pointed at the sign, leaving no doubt about her intentions on going there. The Murgias shared her thought and so they walked to the gas station. She would make some phone calls there. For someone her beauty, it wouldn't be a challenge to get herself some spare coins to dial up, any gentlemen would gladly offer her more than that.

Finally, the gas station appeared so did a motel just by its side, but there was also a problem, the Guardia Civil and the Police were there already. Somebody must have tipped them off and they must have found the dead bodies. It didn't take long for them to find out that not everybody in that house was killed. They must have been looking for somebody. Then, the domestic servant they left behind, popped up inside their heads. They hadn't killed the old man. He talked with the police, of course, avoiding the kidnapping part, probably tricked them to think it was a robbery attempt, too bad! They needed a phone desperately but couldn't risk to be captured, at least not that close to the town, where they would surely be caged while the investigations lasted. Antonio could kill them all in there. The local police could very well be already on his payroll or about to be.

"We have to continue, let's get out of here fast." said Lucia. That disappointed both, specially little Jose, but they understood. They continued walking away from the town, but not far from the main road, just enough to leave the police behind. Then Lucia instructed the Murgias to remain hidden in the woods, just by the road. She took her sweater out, revealing some of her body and increasing her attractiveness.

"Stay here until I get here with a car, ok? I will go get one for us, remain here until my sign." they both nodded and she left them and walked towards the main road. She lifted her finger until a small familiar Round car stopped by. A single man, probably in his forties, stopped when he saw Lucia. She caught his attention at once.

"Hey, are you ok, señorita?" he expressed with concern.

"Please, help me, give me a ride, my car just left me here. A mechanic is about a mile away in that direction." Lucia answered in a perfect Spanish, faking real concern. The man believed her and opened the door. Lucia took her knife out, the man paralyzed, she quickly tied him and put him in the trunk. She picked up the Murgias and set direction to Madrid.

"Once we get there, I will take you to your embassy, they will protect you, and I will get my phone call." they drove for an hour until they reached Madrid. They parked in the parking lot of a mall and they abandoned the little van with its trapped owner there.

50.

NEW YORK, U.S.A.

The U.N. general assembly was getting ready. It would be open in a few weeks. Hotel rooms all around New York had been booked already, mostly by journalists from all around the world. The event, which was causing so much expectation, was about to be declared open in few days time.

Meanwhile, Robert Higgins was working in the last details along with his team and the witnesses. They had every testimony ready. They have reviewed and organized the evidence over and over again, everybody knew the case to the very minimal detail, memorized every part to be played, they had kept media interest focused on the matter, by releasing the proofs little by little, providing the giant news junkie media with its daily dope.

He was cross examining one of the witnesses when his cell phone rang two times. It was Peter Byron requesting his presence, urgent matters had came up. He went to Peter's place quickly, where he found a concerned figure the moment crossed the office door.

"What is it, Peter?" he asked intrigued.

"Something unexpected came up, Robert. It seems there is a conspiracy to kill president Trujillo going on in Mexico."

Robert went speechless, caught by surprise

"So Peter... are you sure?"

"Yes, Robert, I'm afraid I just talked with the man in charge of the execution."

"Damn! What should we do about it now, Peter?"

"I have been thinking about it. It's dangerous now, Robert. We could get framed into this. I'm considering a full retreat from this matter, just to hand the proofs and the testimonies to the press. Let them handle it all." explained Peter. Then, he sipped a glass of bourbon all at once "Shit, Robert, after all we had been through!"

"What about Frank and the witnesses? What about all they have been through, Peter!" "What am I supposed to tell them?, just..."

"There is only one way we could continue with this. Salomon talked about the Spanish tycoon, Antonio Cazador, and an unidentified inside man in the Trujillo's government. He said they were using us to destroy Trujillo so they can get to the power. Unfortunately, the only connection with that theory is missing in action." added Peter.

"Missing in action? Is it a person?"

"Yes, a spy for hire under Salomon's orders, for what it seems, her name is Lucia but her whereabouts are unknown." regretted Peter.

"I'm holding to this phone in case we have news, but so far nothing."

Suddenly the phone started to ring.

"Hurry up, Peter!" It could be her...

"Hola" Peter's Spanish was almost acceptable.

"Mr. Salomon?" a beautiful female voice asked.

"Lucia? Is that you?" Peter asked.

"Yes, it's me Lucia, who is this?"

Peter explained the whole story and Lucia mourned in silence her old friend and employer, Mr. Salomon Hajji, but then added in a decisive manner, "Can you get me out of Spain, Peter? I'm wanted by the police and cannot cross through the border."

"Hum. I know some people that can, don't you worry, just stay safe. Keep calling this phone every day."

"Oh, and Lucia..."

"Yes?"

"Nice to meet you."

51.

NEW YORK, U.S.A.

"Our luck has just changed, Robert!" Robert took a deep breath and smiled, the color on his face was returning.

"Was that Lucia, Peter?" he asked intrigued.

"Indeed, my friend, but, there is a problem." added Peter.

"It's no surprise these days, Peter, we are getting used to it!" said Robert and then added,

"Well, what is it?"

"She is in Spain wanted by the police and we have to get her out of Spain a.s.a.p." explained Peter.

"I know a guy who would do that gladly, heck even with a smile on his face!" laughed Robert,

"Our good friend Lt. Frank "Big Luck" Smith! It would be like a vacation for him." Robert smiled.

"Now it's a good time to call him, Robert."

Robert reached for his coat pocket and grabbed a cell phone. He started dialing Frank's number but couldn't make contact. Frank's phone rang out unanswered. Robert looked embarrassed but quickly added,

"Guess what? I'll have to go in person, Peter, I know where to find him."

Robert left the office, hoping to find Frank soon. God knows for how long Lucia could hide from the police.

New York City seemed to have slowed down and became a little brighter .The sun glared as he walked down the street, submerged in his thoughts en route to the witnesses' house. Jose had become a close friend of Frank's and he would get Frank for him.

He watched the city invaded by newsmen and women from all around the world. Their presence could be felt just days before the big U.N. Human Rights summit. Time was ticking out.

52.

NEW YORK, U.S.A.

Capt. Juan Ramirez and his death squad finally reached New York and got to a small apartment, lost among a maze of apartment buildings, local people knew as projects, well into the borough of Brooklyn in New York City.

"What a pocilga, Capitan!" expressed one of the team the moment they walked into the badly decaying apartment.

"The place is falling apart!" completed another as they found water flowing out of the barely useful sink. There were no light bulbs or lamps and the walls were peeling down, dampness could be smelled. The apartment building was also in a really bad condition, not very different from the neighborhood, a place known to be filled with gangs that even the police had forsaken long ago. The complex was huge, comprising many apartment buildings commonly used by drug dealers, gangs and junkies as a hiding place. There was even a urban legend that drug dealers had interconnected the apartments and the buildings, creating a huge maze of secret passages and tunnels, many of them extending blocks away through the city sewer system with the purpose of hiding drugs and ,of course, escaping from police raids undetected. It was not precisely a child's playground.

Capt. Ramirez deployed a map on the kitchen table and the team gathered around it. He pointed at some spots in the map and started to explain the strategy. They would have to move lightning fast, they would spread after the hit and regroup in the apartment. They would, then, leave New York City undetected. That explained the reason for establishing the base in the apartment. It was a clever move by Capt. Ramirez; a backup plan to escape in case anything went wrong. He handed to each of the team members a small map of the passages, with meeting points marked with letters that ranged from A meaning the current apartment to letter G, a location well deep into the complex maze. The team decided to strike that same day around midnight. They would reach the place on foot and leave the same way. It was a short walk, just a few blocks and they would be crossing the bridge into Brooklyn again.

"Get the poison ready team, tonight's the night, we'll keep things simple, we scan the perimeter, identify and neutralize any threat, then we move into the house and perform the kill, we then leave, separate and regroup here at 600." then he added, "Remember, we have to act with stealth, our government is counting on that, understood?" "Yes, sir!" the troop responded.

53.

NEW YORK, U.S.A.

Robert had been walking for some minutes and the witnesses' house now appeared in front of him. He climbed the stairs of the porch and knocked three times on the house door until a timid female figure opened the door, but not before checking carefully who was knocking. Except for Frank, they were not quite used to receiving a lot of visitors.

"Hi, Robert, how are you?" said Ana, glad to see Robert but somewhat disconcerted.

"Shall we rehearse today?" she asked.

"Oh, no, Ana, that's until Monday. I'm not here for that. I would like to see Jose. Is he around?" Robert inquired.

The house seemed lonely, the first floor looked deserted but a low chat and voices could be heard from upstairs on the second floor,

"Oh, we are playing cards with Robert. Please excuse us" explained Ana.

"Ah, it's ok Ana, don't apologize for that!" expressed Robert, drawing a little smile on his face.

"Please go to the backyard. Jose and Frank are in the garden, having some beers as usual" 'Perfect!' Thought Robert as he thanked Ana and moved towards the backyard. There, he saw a familiar scene. Frank and Jose were enjoying some beers for a change.

"All right, folks! What are you up to?" he shouted. Frank and Jose greeted him with some jokes and nonsense. He grabbed a beer and swallowed it up and asked Jose for cigarette. After it had been lit, he looked directly at Frank and said,

"I need to have a word with you, Frank. It's important" Frank looked at him incredulous .

"With me?"

"Yes, Frank, with you." but Frank responded, ignoring Robert's insinuation.

"My friend Jose can know, I trust him." Jose reacted disconcerted, realizing Robert's seriousness. He stood up and carefully left the scene, using a visit to the bathroom as an excuse.

"Well, speak your mind, Robert" said Frank and Robert started explaining recent developments in the case. Frank was shocked. He muted his stance to a thoughtful one and added,

"Ok, this Lucia of yours, how do we know it's for real?"

"We can't Frank, but it's our best shot, you see, we have no other option. We risk blowing it up big time if we are not careful, we cannot risk these people's lives, much less the faith of an entire country for being wrong..." Then Frank interrupted abruptly.

"But we are not, Robert! The president is a murderer. He has to go one way or the other, can't believe you are backing away from the plan, worse, you are justifying a tyrant?"

"Is that it, Robert?" Frank asked angrily. Robert got serious and answered decisively,

"I've just explained myself, Frank, we are not backing a tyrant but we cannot ignore recent developments. Now, are you in or not?" asked Robert, demanding a decision from Frank.

"No fucking way, Robert. I'm not helping a tyrant and this Lucia of yours I bet she doesn't even exist. It's a dirty trick to stop bringing the case against Trujillo!" Robert took the last drink from his beer and threw the cigarette away. Then, he stood up and finally added,

"Well, Frank, then it's on you, I hope you change your mind soon." he walked away, leaving Frank alone.

54.

THE OFFICIAL PRESIDENTIAL RESIDENCE, MEXICO

"You see, Christine, our history is quite complicated. For many decades ,we have been studied as a society by many specialists in a wide range of fields, mostly by historians and sociologists, of course, but so far I have not seen any conclusion, any answer to the enigma what we are as a society that could throw much more light into the matter than the late Nobel prize winner author, Octavio Paz, threw after he named his masterpiece El Laberinto de la Soledad" explained President Martin Trujillo, comfortably sat on the leather chair in his presidential office, with an air of self sufficiency and power, fixing his penetrating black eyed glaze into the eyes of the journalist and TV anchor Christine Merck from CN news network, who was charmed by the man's personality.

She realized, just after few minutes of conversation with President Trujillo that he was a profound thinker, a feat very much unexpected from a man conceived to be insensitive and ruthless. Perhaps there is something that runs deep within him that we haven't considered... she thought for a moment. Anyway, she could not afford to show her surprise, she was a professional journalist with a tendency toward being fair and objective and she stuck with her role as a seasoned TV anchor.

The interview was live, something weird when it came to interviewing heads of state, who usually weren't allowed by their image advisors to take the interviews live, without reviewing the questions, proposed by the production first and approving the interview, recording before granting permission to air it to the public, a well extended practice aimed to avoid any serious questioning or politically sensitive themes or positions. Having the chance to have the politician mano a mano was rare and a great opportunity to improvise and get revelations that could enhance public interest and spark a better rating, a chance to be bold and aim for news.

The president's and the program's crew crowded the office. The big office seemed small, packed with tech staff, camera guys, make up assistants, production assistants, reflectors, cameras and, of course, military body guards for the president and his close advisors. Even though everybody seemed to be in a hurry and under pressure, the president showed charisma and his strong personality relaxed many. He seemed to be enjoying the chat and it seemed more intellectual. This is something he enjoyed a lot because ever since he took office he had had very few chances to speak about history.

Christine allowed the president some control in the chat, allowing him some space and getting him to relax a little.

The staff had to improvise an air-cooling system since the number of devices in the room surpassed the office air-cooling capabilities. A number of small technical glitches happened during the interview but the president seemed to have a great sense of humor, something extremely tranquilizing to the staff, both sides of it.

It was six o'clock and it was getting dark as the sun faded over Mexico City and the Presidential Palace Gardens. The interview was extending a little beyond schedule and the president still had a Gala dinner to attend that same night. One of his staffers got close to him to point that, but the president instructed him to wait and to allow more time for the interview. So they continued.

Suddenly Christine threw a treacherous question, aiming to get the president's opinion on what was a theme that was gathering the world's attention, the demand the president would be facing in a U.S. court for alleged human rights violations and genocide.

"Mr. President, as you might be aware, a U.S. law firm will file a demand against you in a U.S. court of law, accusing you of genocide and human rights abuse, What's your take on this matter? What do you think about it? Are accusations true?" said Christine in a polite but firm tone of voice, knowing the interview was about to end and probably it was her last question and she had to make something of it.

The president was not caught by surprise. He had been expecting the question ever since the interview started and he had an answer well prepared, but he could not avoid letting a discrete smile appear on his face, clearly aimed at Christine as a recognition of her sagacity and daring. He did not even change position, her posture was natural and confident.

"First, let me answer you the last question. The answer is no. My government has always had respect for human rights and, being said that, genocide is, of course, way out of our form of government. I condemned it in the past and will continue to condemn any way of repression in the future. As for the first and second question, let me tell you my very personal opinion, that supposed demand is about publicity more than anything, you have some irresponsible law firm that is trying to gather attention the wrong way. I seriously doubt they will present such demand and, in case they do, they would lack any evidence, of course, since what they claim is a patent lie. That's again, my personal opinion. However, I respect freedom and they can exercise their right any way they are entitled to" the president reaffirmed, giving Christine the impression that she hit a stone wall, she quickly improvised another question. This time, her last one, ignoring his staff pointing time over.

The ball was in the president's court, he could easily choose not to answer and keep on going with his schedule or risk answering it. Anyway, he could claim victory on the interview. He decided to go for the extra points before the audience and sat down again in the chair and, looking directly into Christine's eyes, he started,

"Christine, I'm glad you asked that question which I find most important to correctly understand Mexico and let me tell you that the question you just asked has been asked by the American ambassadors before, many times in the past and during the most testing times this country has ever faced." The president pointed out seriously as he made himself more comfortable in the chair like a professor about to explain some lesson, probably, remembering his years as constitutional law professor at Universidad Nacional de Mexico (UNM) Law School.

He continued in a fatherly tone,

"Let me try to answer that question to the best of my knowledge and, almost certain, I will fail to provide a complete answer, no one has ever can. First, it is true that the land we identify as Mexico was heavily populated before the Europeans arrived and performed the conquest of the Aztecs and establishing the New Spain. There was not one but many indigenous nations scattered along, which were known as Mesoamerica. Mostly in Central Mexico, the population was estimated by some historians at around 40 million people, unlike North America where, although there were many indigenous nations, their numbers did not match those of central America" Christine was listening to his explanation carefully, trying to anticipate any meaningful comment. But so far, it has just been history.

The president was trying to hurry on his historical explanation but it was necessary to have a historical context so he continued "Second, the religious reform had already occurred in Europe in what I consider a turning point in the western civilization history since it ended the all mighty political power of the Roman Catholic Church over Europe's Anglo-Saxon population, effectively, splitting Europe in two and originating a constant war between European empires in the process. England formed its own church far from the Pope but Spain remained rooted to the Catholic Church that created an abyss deep distance between the English and the Spanish civilization. They simply lost any tie they might have in common to follow extremely different paths. England progressed and was modernized, Spain got into a second and prolonged round of obscure times and lost any progress and modernity, you can see the difference today many centuries after. Mexico shared the Spanish fate of underdevelopment and underachievement, so we have to keep that in mind. One of the most pernicious aspects of the Spanish underdevelopment legacy was the social situation. During almost five centuries of Spanish dominion over Mexican population, the Spanish reinforced an apartheid regime where all non European Spanish population was basically casted away from education or any intellectual development, with notable exceptions. The Spanish only saw the Indians and Mestizos as slaves but, even more sadly, the Spanish destroyed the whole previous culture of the Indians, culture that had been under a development path for centuries and quite successfully so."

He made a brief pause to drink some water from a bottle he was handed by a staffer "They striped the Indians and the new Mexicans of any form of culture, intellectual development, education and identity and they left them that way. It has taken many decades for Mexico and with severe hardships, to create a cultural and sociological common identity around common grounds and hopes. The greatest obstacles have been the civil wars and internal conflicts, nothing has ever harmed more the progress of Mexico than internal revolts. It has been the most pernicious thing we have ever faced, just imagine, we had our first Constitution in 1824. It was mostly a copy of others lacking individual right and its rules could be enforced because Mexico was still on internal revolt. After the failed Emperor Iturbide, many constitutions came but the country crossed through the 19th century in war. By the time the 20th century arrived, the country was a complete mess, we have had more than 3 foreign army interventions and many civil wars. We had our first real Constitution in 1917, after an extremely violent and destructive revolution, that was more than a hundred years after the United States. During all that time, there was virtually no social development which meant that people remained exactly the same as centuries ago, uneducated, illiterate and without identity. It was only after the revolution, when the political party Partido Nacional Revolucionario, the precedent of the modern PRI, got to power establishing an extremely corrupt but stable regime, not a democracy, a regime, let me be clear on that, although controversial. Only then did social progress start along with political stability, although at an extremely slow progress rate. That's why internal peace, political stability and social development must be the very top priority for any Mexican government."

He relaxed his posture, revealing he was about to conclude "Consider what I just explained, the answer to your question lies in the understanding of the Mexican reality. I hope I have been helpful." President Martin Trujillo concluded an unusually profound explanation that revealed, not only an important aspect of Mexican history, but also a lot about his inner motivations and thoughts.

He thanked Christine and she thanked him for the interview, the cameras stopped recording and the interview ended. He quickly stood up from the chair and got close to Christine for a photo, thanked her and said good bye. The presidential staff already waited for him just outside the office, a body guard opened reverently the door for him to step out.

Christine saw the man leaving the office and the door closing behind him. She discovered a man she would not have expected, so did her audience in what was about to constitute a huge public relations success for the clever president Martin Trujillo, who had just performed a masterpiece of political savvy and an astute handling of media and public relations. Outside, Martin Trujillo smiled. He was perfectly aware of what had just happened in there.

55.

NEW YORK, U.S.A.

Frank was giving it a deep thought, his options had been dancing in his head, torturing him with the worst possible question: 'What if? What if Lucia really existed and she was not a trap? What if they needed her to know the complete picture? What if the case was about to crash and burn just because he refused to go on a little vacation? Shit!' He kept repeating to himself.

Night fell and he was doing what had become a routine along with his good friend, Jose. This time, Frank was showing Jose some good American blues. He started with B.B. King, then came Eric Clapton and so on, a couple of beers went by in a blink and the moment was just ok for two blues enthusiasts.

"You know, Jose, I have something to tell you." said Frank, sobering his tone of voice, making Jose realize it was some serious matter.

Jose asked with interest "What is it, Frank? Has it got something to do with Robert's visit?"

"Well, yes, Jose, mostly Robert asked me to go and rescue some girl trapped in Spain. He said she was an extremely important piece for the case. But I said no. I won't go because it seems it could actually help Martin Trujillo." explained Frank, avoiding the details and expecting Jose's advice.

"Frank, you have already done a lot for us, man, you don't have to go. Whatever you want, man, it's ok if you don't feel like to" said Jose in a relaxed manner, trying to take some pressure out of Frank, somehow successfully.

"You are right, Jose, It is mostly because I didn't buy the story of the lady in danger. Before, I have seen those kind of traps so typical of corrupt people. I'm not going, now cheers for the U.N. summit where the shit will hit the fan badly! Ha ha!"

"Cheers for that, Frank. Let's bring the mother fucker down!" expressed Jose with enthusiasm.

Midnight came, silencing the street and the night, and with midnight so was real danger now walking stealthy just beneath them, through the sewer system about to ascend to the street, just surrounding the house.

"Team two, do you copy? Over"

"Yes, we copy, at your signal, team one."

"Rodger that team two, get the shit ready."

"Shit's ready, over."

Frank and the rest were completely unaware of the hell about to be unleashing just beneath them.

"Now, move! Move! Move!"

Team one, in the front, opened the top and did the second team did it in the back street at the same time. They were dressed completely in black, with masks and gloves, like pro thieves in the night. They moved silently with swift efficiency and undetected. Nobody saw them coming out of the sewer, just as they expected. There was complete darkness as the moon appeared to be absent, perfect, sought after nights when the pros strike deadly blows all around the world.

Team two got close to the back fence which was not high, easy to jump over but high enough to cover the three men, who where now awaiting for orders, deployed crouched just about the fence.

A sudden noise stroke Frank. It was the sound of a tree branch breaking. His senses were still very acute and he was never off guard. It seemed to him the sound of a cat breaking a wooden stick when walking, except for the fact that cats didn't weigh that much. It was late, no kids playing around and it was no new gang in the neighborhood. Intuiting something unusual, he instructed Jose to keep quiet. Jose was disconcerted by Frank's sudden change of attitude but he obeyed. It was the wisest thing to do. Jose didn't move as Frank raised the music volume and walked in slow motion to the back fence, just where the noise had come from.

It was then when he saw a dark figure on the roof of the house, no doubt now, they were under siege. He shouted at Jose to get into the house with the others. Jose moved lightning fast.

"Fuck, Fuck, Fuck! Move it!" Team leader two shouted in frustration. They had been discovered.

Team leader two jumped the fence, just to be surprised by a ready Frank "Big Luck" Smith, who impacted a furious and unexpected hand blow directly into the invader's neck, halting his breathe on the instant, collapsing his throat and collapsing his body into the ground, neutralized, knocked down and probably dead.

A second team member jumped seconds after the leader. He caught Frank from his back but Frank turned around fast and grabbed the attacker's gun before he could aim it and shoot. Frank took the gun from the second invader and immediately fired a deadly shot at the attacker, who crumbled violently, tossed away by the gun blow, just to land dead over the ground.

Another shot was fired by the third member who was already over the fence. It impacted directly on Frank and sprayed his blood into the air, kicking him into the ground, wounded in his shoulder, losing his advantage and badly bleeding him.

The attacker didn't stop on Frank. Instead, he ran fast through the yard, propelled by a rush of adrenaline to get into the house and complete the mission by gun power if necessary. But the house looked empty. He could only spot other team members storming desperately, room by room, but without luck. He kicked the back door and got into the house.

"Shit! There is nobody! They tricked us!"

Suddenly, the sound of police sirens approaching scared the team. The police had been called by the neighbors when they heard the gun shots in the backyard, blowing the plan badly.

The squad rushed to the backyard. They crossed it, jumped the fence and disappeared into the sewer, being spotted by the neighbors who were approaching the house armed to provide assistance to their new neighbors.

The police arrived to the scene, just moments after, from all directions. Blue and red lights could be seen, dominating the scene in no time. The neighbors told the police the criminals had cleverly escaped into the sewer.

Frank recovered when a police officer along with a paramedic approached him, providing assistance. Frank explained what had happened and how there came to be two dead bodies, just inches away from him. Frank was brought to a near hospital alive. Luckily, his wounds weren't that bad. 'That was damn close!' he thought.

"What about the people?!" he asked with insistence to the police officer close to him. The young policeman turned to Frank with a smile and responded,

"They are all right. They hid behind a false wall in a closet after the first unusual noise, smart move right!?" The policeman explained with enthusiasm.

"Bet you! Thank God!" said Frank before he let himself fall asleep in relaxation. That Jose, I knew it, the guy is smart!

The police was around the perimeter of the house, taping the crime scene. Inside, the routine interview was being conducted by a couple of N.Y. Police Department detectives to establish the facts of what just had occurred, a first conclusion was quickly drawn when they found out who the house guests were, they would need to catch at least one member of the hit squad alive to make the case. They would need to call the Feds, both FBI and CIA. It all pointed to a foreign military hit squad operating in American territory.

Capt Ramirez knew perfectly well what had just happened and what it really meant. They would not leave the United States alive and he would make sure no team member did. Surviving a day more would mean revealing their identities. It was a dead end. They were rushing through the sewer .The four of them left, reaching and destroying their apartment and the mission evidence just popped to be the very first priority. Then, they tried to leave the place. However, that part seemed impossible. Given the circumstances, they would have to die.

The FBI hostage rescue team was already in the surrounding area while a helicopter flew over the surrounding sewer exits and a N.Y. Police team, with a trained dog, was already following their trace into the sewer. There was no escape possible. It was a matter of minutes to a standoff, a Mexican stand off to death between them and the Police forces.

They opened a sewer top, just by the bridge, and were received by a spray of hot bullets fired from the helicopter. The bullet rain landed on a team member's chest destroying his chest, heart and lungs and killing him, but allowing the remaining three to get out and to cross the bridge into Brooklyn.

"Bravo 2, over, the suspects got into the projects, repeat, suspects engaged on bayside projects. Requesting immediate back up, over!"

Hell broke loose over the police frequency.

"Dispatch: all units to bayside projects, repeat all units surround bayside project complexes, suspects engaged there."

The team rushed upstairs to the third floor. They broke into the apartment. Capt Ramirez was reached by a bullet in his right ankle. He was barely able to walk.

"Pedro, open the briefcase and give me the small remote control now!" Capt Ramirez shouted desperate, the sound of the police, approaching through the hallway, could be now heard and there were many of them well armed, ready for the take down.

"They would not get us that easy!" Pedro shouted angrily and grabbed an automatic rifle that was hidden beneath the apartment closet. Pedro charged it and moved, encroached, close to the wall to send the police a clear message.

Pedro glued his ear to the wall to hear when policemen walked in the hallway. Pedro and the rest knew they would try to catch them by surprise, storming the room first, with a sound device to take them down after. The police liked to create some distraction to get their attention out from the apartment entrance and create physiological mayhem among them as if they were handling regular criminals.

The heavy metal song coming from the special N.Y. Police department van was blasting. It was psychological warfare at its best. Its aim was to confuse the enemy, demoralize him before breaking him badly.

The team laughed. They knew what the use of those kind of tactics meant. They would not strike until the building was empty, to protect other innocent building inhabitants, but after they finished clearing the building, the police would strike hard not to perform an arrest but to get them killed.

It was an unspoken deal. Both sides knew how a situation like that would surely end. Capt. Ramirez accepted the deal for the innocent's sake, music would tell them when death would knock on their door.

The heavy metal tune kept pumping hard outside. 'I actually like the song' he thought. Then, the pace of the song seemed to be accelerated, indicating the evacuation almost finished, he gripped the remote control tight, said a little prayer. Pedro was pumping empty his machine gun. Bullets crossed the walls in every direction. Shouts were heard outside and then everything came to a halt. Silence, the world stopped for a second... he pressed the button...

Booom! Ka-bang! The discharge shocked the building foundations, a powerful shockwave made the earth beneath them, shake to its very roots. The briefcase wide C-4 explosive charge went off the instant Capt. Ramirez pressed the button, killing themselves all.

Suddenly, the building started to shake, threatening to crumble down, loud screams could be heard as the police retreated to a safe distance. No longer than a minute passed when the building rumbled down into pieces, lifting a deep cloud of dirt and smoke well into the air, much to the amazement of the scene witnesses who saw the situation unfolding through the TV news, shocked, in disbelief as if they were only seeing an action movie. News helicopters lost the signal for a moment to the cloud of dirt and smoke, who forced their pilots to climb to a safe altitude while the dirt settled.

Frank watched the scene from his hospital bed, shocked, angry, desperate. He found the answer to his dilemma the hard way. The fight was reaching beyond Mexico, violence followed their new friends and now innocent lives had been lost. He had to finish the job he started when he saved Robert and Jose along with the rest, back in the golden beaches of Cancun, for the good sake of everybody.

He asked for a phone and dialed Robert.

"Are you seeing this, Robert?" Frank asked.

"Yes, Frank... I'm afraid I am and can't believe it..." responded Robert dead serious.

"About your proposition, Robert..."

"Count me in."

"I already did that, Frank."

"Oh, and Robert,"

"What is it, Frank?"

"If it's a trap, I will personally kick your ass!"

Morning came with the news. The Police had moved the Mexican witnesses to a safe and undisclosed location.

News could have not strike in the worst possible moment for president Martin Trujillo. Events came to his knowledge by the news. He hadn't ordered the operation. Luckily for him, the operation couldn't be connected to his government, all evidence blew off with the explosion, but he had now become the main villain in the script, being written by the news media worldwide. The UN summit now appeared to be around the corner, a summit he would never forget.

56.

NEW YORK, U.S.A.

"The name is Lucia" Peter Byron repeated after he carefully announced the details of the plan. It was all now in Frank's hands.

"You will be leaving tomorrow, Frank, you will arrive at Barajas international Airport in Madrid with the rest of the tourists. Keep your profile low for Christ's sake, Frank!" Robert said sounding a little worried about the whole thing.

"There will be a safe house waiting for you and Lucia. An old friend of mine owns a transportation company in Spain which travels around the Euro zone constantly, crossing borders. You'll take the flight from Switzerland. He will get you into Swiss territory safe."

"Are you sure you haven't been in the army? All this secrecy and the papers stuff reminds me a lot about an army colonel we used to call..." said Frank, joking but Peter didn't get it and opted for ignoring Frank's gracious comment.

They must have been there for a couple of hours, reviewing the plan when Frank's shoulder injury started to feel itchy. He was strongly advised to keep it low, to rest as much as possible and, by all means, avoid physical activities or unusual efforts. Those words could not have landed on most deaf ears. Frank had never been a quiet guy. Just hours after leaving the hospital, he was doing his habitual physical jobs to make ends meet, but finally he resented a little bit the efforts so he took a seat in Peter's couch, stretching his legs much to the nervousness of Peter and Robert.

Frank was an expert and was fed up with Robert and Peter's dubitative attitude. He decided the wisest thing to do was to take control over the situation so he firmly cut in.

"Ok, you have repeated it a hundred times, I get it. I'm the expert here, remember? Now, once Lucia approaches me, we will play by my rules and we'll play it safe. I'm sure a day or two won't make the problem any bigger than it is now, and please stop worrying about it!" Frank concluded "Besides, it's getting dark guys." he added, then gently stood up and left Peter's office closing the door behind him. 'Pair of chicken shit desk guys...' he thought.

"Well, Robert, I hope he is as good as you said because now everything relies on him" said Peter sounding a little tired, but continued...

"Robert, there is something else I want to talk about with you. It's personal and it's serious. Please, get the bourbon bottle from my desk and two glasses, would you." Peter pleaded as he rested his back on the leather couch as if trying to recharge energies. Robert brought the bottle and the pair of glasses and poured some bourbon whisky, then added some ice. He couldn't help looking at Peter. The old man just looked tired, without energy, sitting there in the couch. He handed one of the glasses to Peter and held the other as he sat close to him in the next couch.

Gently smiling, he said, "Well, Peter, I'm all ears." Then, Peter paid the smile back, took a little sip of bourbon and started to explain himself.

"You know, Robert, the other day I saw an old acquaintance die just in front of my eyes. He was my age. It shocked me. Since then, I've been thinking a lot of things that led me to face a hard reality I haven't shared with anybody, not even with my family until now. I'm going to cut to the chase, Robert." his voice started to tremble at this point. He paused for second. "I've got cancer. At my age, the odds are well against me."

Robert was surprised and the news saddened him. He kept silent, not knowing what to make of it. He, then, tried to articulate some supporting words but Peter stopped him in the act.

"I really appreciate your good intention, Robert, but I'm not a kid. I don't believe in fairy tales, but am thankful for your support. And that is precisely why, I decided to have this conversation with you."

"You will be my successor. The firm will rely on you after I'm gone. It's in my will already, Robert, but I have to ask if you agree on that."

"It's an honor, Peter. I don't know what to say."

"Then, say yes, damn you. It's big news!"

"All right, yes, Peter."

"Now you understand why I'm doing this Robert. I'm risking everything I have, but I have an immortal soul to save, so I am devoted to save as many people as I can south of the border. Maybe if I save enough of them, God will forgive my sins..." Peter solemnly stated, as if old memories were back to haunt him.

"Come on, Peter! Terrible sins? A man like you?" expressed Robert "I have known you for many years and you are a tough lawyer I admit, but never a bad person, Peter!"

Peter did not make any gesture, revealing Robert how serious he was. Robert stopped.

"As you may know Robert, the man who died here was Salomon Hajji, a Mexican tycoon and an old acquaintance of mine. We knew each other for many years. We were members of a secret brotherhood." Peter then looked straight into Robert's eyes "This is an absolute secret Robert, nobody ever should know, is that understood?"

"Yes, Peter, do not worry, I'll take it to my grave."

"Good, this group has no name and nobody ever has talked about it in books, movies or any other way, because we are still much in control of things. Until recently, events worldwide have been bringing setbacks and complete regions like Asia have become inaccessible to us. Bad things are happening because balance is being lost."

"We don't conceive ourselves and our mission as good or bad. We consider ourselves above that ridiculous simply view of the world. We strive for balance. Conflict is undesirable and conflict happens every time balance is lost and it lasts until it is restored again. I guess we are more inclined to good because our efforts have prevented many wars, preventing millions of people from suffering and death" explained Peter, much to the amazement of Robert.

"We are many. Salomon was one of us. He made a mistake and he died trying to correct that mistake. That's why, I am taking his words so seriously, Robert."

"I understand Peter, I clearly see your point." said Robert.

"Our origins can be traced as far as the end of World War Two, that unfortunate human history chapter would have not occurred if we had existed back then. The war opened our eyes, nuclear technology, new advanced weaponry, biological warfare, terrorism. Our eyes were suddenly open, the world needed us and since then, we have been protecting it by all means, sometimes good ones but sometimes bad ones, that is why I regret some things I have done in the past. It was never easy."

"That responsibility Robert will be yours after I'm gone if you accept it. I cannot force you. You have to be convinced. It's up to you to decide. Give it a thought, please. Don't answer right now."

Robert didn't say a word. He just nodded.

"The brotherhood would protect you and provide most of what you would eventually need. But you have to ask them for it, first. There is a tight vigilance on member's actions and close supervision. Other members must always know what you are up to. Otherwise, you cannot act on behalf of the brotherhood."

"Do they know what we are doing, Peter?" asked Robert intrigued.

"No, Robert, they knew what Salomon was trying to do and, to a certain extent. They don't know about our plan." answered Peter.

"So we are on our own, Peter."

"That's right, Robert. We are on our own."

57.

MADRID, SPAIN

The first impression had passed. Anger had diminished and worry was starting to fill its void. Antonio Cazador had just received his first setback with his hostages escaping but he was determined to make it the last. And, once again, things seemed to be rolling his way.

"Good! Good, Felix, I'm sending a couple of people right now to pick them up." said Antonio Cazador over the cell phone as his car moved fast on the highway en route to Madrid. Two tough armed guys accompanied him in a van, driving just meters away from him.

"Felix, are you sure nobody else knew about them?"

"I'm sure, Mr. Antonio." responded the voice on the other side of the line.

"Excellent, you will receive my deepest gratitude for this, Felix, you are a lucky, man!"

"Thank you, Mr. Antonio. I'm at your service, tell your men to park in the back alley of the embassy. We will deliver your prisoners through the service entrance."

"Very well. They will arrive in a white van, Felix."

"Ok, Mr. Antonio. We'll handle it well."

"I'm counting on that, Felix!"

Inside the embassy, Maria Murguia and little Jose were locked in the same room for a couple of days. They were told, by embassy officials, to remain in the room for their own security. But Maria was feeling uneasy with the situation as if she had had a bad hunch. They were not aware that they had been sold as merchandise by the people who were supposed to protect them.

Lucia had her share of bad hunches too. She actually never got too far from the embassy, determined to make sure her new protégées actually left Spain. She also wanted to see Antonio paying for it. But, so far nothing had happened and she was now aware of something going wrong inside the place. She would have to take things in her own hands again before leaving Spain.

She had a problem. She could not just walk through the door of the embassy, get to the desk and ask for her friends. The embassy was tightly guarded and she was wanted by the police, they would arrest her in seconds. She had to break through and find out for herself what was really going on. It was not easy. She would have to settle for simple and boring vigilance for any rare or suspicious movement. She suspected there was a mole inside the embassy and on Antonio's pay list. She was right on the spot. They should be delivering the merchandize to the buyer without delay. She knew they could not risk being caught by an honest embassy staffer.

True to her suspicion, she decided to focus her attention on the embassy backyard and service doors. The best way to get rid of a corpse or move prisoners would be through the back doors where it is common to have vans, picking and delivering stuff. The probable exchange would pass unnoticed.

She established her observation point on a roof, with a clear view, not far from the embassy, dressed as maintenance staff. She passed unnoticed, free to go up or down as needed.

It didn't take more than a shift for her to spot suspicious activity. She saw a new white van pass through the check point unrevised. That was weird since security around embassies had to be tight and the Mexican embassy was no exception. The van had private plates, not cargo ones. Then, she took a view of blocks around. She spotted a familiar car. It was Antonio's car. She went downstairs like a lightning. She had a van to catch.

The van stopped by a service door, leaving the engine running, getting ready for a quick exit. No more than three minutes passed when two big embassy guards opened the vans cargo door and threw two bodies, with their faces covered with a white blanket and hands tied in the back, for what it looked like, probably sedated and disoriented. The sizes fitted those of Maria Murguia and little Jose.

As soon as the merchandise was in the van, it started to move fast to the exit. It got to the street, leaving the embassy behind.

Antonio's car also moved to where the vans were, just a block north. From there, both vehicles and their cargo would go back to Antonio's house, where his problems would finally end. He reached for his pocket with a complacent smile on his face. He took his cell phone and started dialing. Felix, his embassy contact, picked the call.

"Thank you very much, Felix. I knew you would do your part. Nobody saw anything, right?"

"Yes, Mr. Antonio, everything went smoothly. Now, how about my prize?"

"A well deserved one, Felix. Right now, I'm making the deposit into the account you gave me. You should be able to see it in a couple of minutes, 25,000 dollars."

"Yes, nice doing business with you, Mr. Antonio."

"Will you be available in the future, Felix?"

"Always at your service, Don Antonio."

"Take care Felix. We'll talk again soon."

Don Antonio ended the call. From the back seat of his car, he could see the van approaching south, on the street just meters away. The driver drove into the main street to get ahead of the van. Antonio was satisfied.

The improvised convoy rolled in direction to the north, apparently with no obstacles. The traffic was quiet. A red light stopped them. Two minutes passed and, then, the car continued its way. It was just a minute later that the driver looked in the rear view mirror. They were the only ones moving. The van looked small in the mirror. It remained in the same place. They stopped at the red lights, other cars sounded their horns to make the van move out of the way. It was useless, the van remained glued to its place.

"What the Fuck!!!! Lucia?!!!" shouted Antonio, surprised and enraged, the moment he saw Lucia getting into the van.

"What are you looking at, asshole?!!!! Stop her at once!!!"

The driver took a small gun from below his seat, pulled over, and descended from it, sprinting towards the van. In a matter of seconds, he got close enough to where he could point at Lucia. She was untying Maria and Jose inside the van. He could shoot. The shot would pierce the window of the van and Lucia's skull. He was trying to get the aim when the sound of the police sirens distracted him. 'Shit!'He thought, putting his gun down, concealing it in his back, under his jacket .Then, he walked fast, got into the car and drove Antonio away from the scene.

They escaped unharmed. Antonio was furious. He kept cursing her all the way back. The driver pointed out,

"You don't have to worry, Don Antonio, they cannot prove anything. All they would have is the word of a couple of illegal Mexican immigrants against a respected Spanish society member like yourself"

"You are right, Alonso" responded Antonio,

"I will have to hurry my plans a little bit now, that's it."

"You saved us again, Lucia!" said little Jose excited. Maria was extremely glad they escaped a certain death and all thanks to Lucia, their hero. They took a taxi just two blocks away from the scene, where police were arriving in large numbers. They had to get away fast, the second time in just a few days. Luck was clearly on their side. That's what all they thought as the taxi cruised the streets of Madrid in direction to the south.

"¿A que direccion vamos, señorita?" the taxi driver asked.

"Al aeropuerto, señor." responded Lucia.

58.

MADRID, SPAIN

The beautiful big airliner kept the airbrakes deployed just outside Frank's window. It was losing altitude fast as it approached the landing path. It made a soft touchdown. Frank was now in Madrid.

Frank passed customs easily, only routine questions were asked as he was allowed into Spain as a tourist. He had a reservation in a downtown hotel, frequented by American and German tourists. He was dressed for the occasion with shorts and a light shirt. He didn't have anything in his suitcase except for typical tourist stuff, a camera and sightseeing brochures. He truly felt he was on vacation.

He called an airport taxi and got into the hotel as supposed. Everything went so smoothly that he was relaxed. He checked in and was accompanied into his room by a bell boy. Frank handed him a handsome tip and the guy left happily. He decided it was a perfect time for a small nap.

Frank didn't realize he had been followed all the way since he left the airport. He was spotted, correctly profiled, matched to a description, and followed all the way into the hotel.

Lucia entered the reception just moments after Frank did. She told the receptionist she was Frank's wife and that she was arriving a little late. She was convincing enough so the receptionist handed her the keys of the room. She took the elevator to the fourth floor, walked down the hallway, looking for room 423.

The room seemed to be empty. She saw Frank's luggage on the floor. 'Messy fellow' she thought. She heard a door cracked open but she couldn't even turn to look. Her quick reflexes stopped a furious fist, aimed at her chest. Suddenly, she found herself facing Frank "Big Luck" Smith, who wasn't shocked by her beauty at all. Instead, he was preparing himself to take her down. She fixated her fighting glance on Frank's eyes to anticipate his trained movements. Frank swiftly dealt a kick that failed to impact Lucia, she responded with a deadly elbow punch that impacted Frank's chest, suffocating him instantly. He did not fall, he went backwards to grab a lamp as a weapon. Lucia was surprised her blow didn't stopped Frank on the spot, few times had she seen a man take a hit like that.

"It's Lucia!" she said.

Frank tossed the lamp against her. She dodged it. Then, Frank said "how do I know? Who sent you?"

"It was Peter Byron, you moron!"

"Wow," Frank put his hands up, signaling an end to hostilities.

"You certainly know how to throw a fight, lady." he then laughed.

"So you were for real, that Robert!" Frank expressed to himself in relief.

"Would you like some tea, lady?"

"I would rather start moving out of this country, big guy!" responded Lucia.

"I'm kind of fed up here running for this long. I feel they are getting close, we have to get moving." demanded Lucia.

Frank took a closer look at her. She was beautiful indeed but looked comprehensively tired according to what Peter and Robert had told him. She had been through a lot lately, no doubt she was an extremely tough lady.

"I understand Lucia, but before we can leave, let me tell you this, we are looking for a transportation company. Its name is Transportes de Europa .The name of our contact is Terry. He's a friend of Peter's and he knows we are coming. The company is located in the south of Sevilla. We'll get to Switzerland from there. It's our best shot."

"Ok, Frank. Forgot to tell you, I'm not alone."

Frank was surprised and demanded further explanation so Lucia continued,

"I am with two other people, a woman and her kid. Antonio Cazador had them as hostages. I rescued them. They must come with us or he will kill them the moment he finds them."

"All right, the more the merrier. I'll ask extra funds from Peter, don't think that'll be too much trouble. You and I will need to have a serious chat about that Cazador guy. I've been hearing a lot from him lately and it ain't good."

"Where are they?"

"They are in a motel, just by the airport. We have to hurry."

Frank and Lucia left the hotel pretending to be a couple on vacation, leaving most of Frank's stuff in the room. They stopped a taxi and left for the hotel Aeropuerto, very near Barajas airport. It was getting late so it was for Maria and Jose Murgia.

59.

MADRID, SPAIN

The door opened letting the big black car in. Antonio's face looked grim. He opened the door himself and descended from the car. The servants noticed how he placed his hand on his torso as if he was carrying his own stomach, a sign of pain and angst that even surprised his driver and bodyguard. He walked to the stairs and climbed up in slow motion like a wounded man.

There was a phone call waiting for him as soon as he crossed the door of the property, as if he was being observed by an eye from whom, he could not hide secrets. A domestic servant handed him the phone.

He just heard, saying nothing. His face got whiter and whiter. Finally, he said the only words he pronounced during the whole call.

"Don't worry, it will all go as planned. Proceed with the acquisition. You know I'm compromised with it."

Then, the phone call ended. Antonio felt some relief when it was over, got to his celebrated cava and popped open a bottle Caribbean rum to calm his nerves, poured some into a glass and took a deep sip. He was completely alone when he reached for his cell phone and punched some keys. Time came to speed up things.

Jose Murgia, picked the call,

"Yes?"

"It's Antonio, speed up things and you will see your family soon. Deny or delay and you will never see them again!"

"Understood, I will, but please do not harm them! I beg you!"

"That is up to you."

And he hung the phone. Jose felt sick just like every time he heard that voice, the Diablo himself. How could a human being be that cruel and inhuman? He begged to God for answers the little spare time he had to pray. Except for his friend Frank, there was little this life could offer him without her family.

However, there was little Jose could do at this stage. The case was just a week away from being presented, the plaintiff was formed and ready, his part was ready as well. Something must have been going on with Antonio that made him sound so desperate. I just hope my family is ok...

Peter Byron shared a different type of preoccupation. He had not received any news from Frank in Spain. Robert warned him not to expect any but still, he felt a little angst flowing through his old body, weakening him along with the cancer. Sometimes, he said he could feel the cancer growing inside of him, destroying his self. Time was more precious than ever as the motion would be presented next week. He was trying hard to slow things a bit, specially Lt. Martinez, his new found war dog who was keen on killing President Trujillo. He didn't expect a hit man to be political savvy, after Salomon's gone, the brains clearly depended on him. 'Quite an unexpected inheritance!' He thought 'and there was the secret brotherhood issue, how would they respond to the current affairs? I hope they don't take it the wrong way. It would be best for Robert Higgins to start clean on that, but first things vital.' If there is time left, he would deal with the brotherhood, he needed to consider things one by one.

60.

THE DOG

The Dog, other Guatemalan special unit soldiers used to call him, 'an extremely gifted man for violence.' He liked to call himself 'a creative destructor' and he was not far, at all, from reality. He became a myth among UN peacekeeping forces in Somalia, when he and his ten men unit alone killed almost 300 Somali pirates just by the horn of Africa, now known as the 'bloody horn' amongst French Foreign Legion soldiers after Lt. Martinez and his unit strike on the now extinct Pirate Villa.

That day rained, people remember, and it had been three days since Lt. Martinez's unit went missing. The unit left, carrying only their guns consisting of three sniper rifles for his three world class snipers, long firearms and a considerable amount of military high grade explosives. A total of ten men formed the Dog's unit. They spoke little, mostly among themselves, other soldiers would later remember. It must have been because they didn't understand a single word of English. They were little people, very low height and dark skinned with thick faces and deep black eyes, tough and insensible guys for what could be told by their looks and the way they observed other soldiers. An air of mysticism embodied the unit.

The third night fell and no news came to the base, the commanders started to consider declaring, the unit and its men, missing in action, probably captured by the enemy or killed.

It didn't take more than a couple of days for the unit to track the pirates all the way to their villa, a heavy armed shit hole they used to call base and that was supposed to be a secret, a long time target for the NATO forces in the region, spy satellites failed miserably spotting the place for dispatching air bombing that would blow the pirates to hell.

Everything went uphill for the pirates since they caught worldwide attention, they should have remained low-profile. They dared the Dog and his unit, something they would not live to regret.

Jungle masters, most of them born, raised and trained in the Guatemalan jungle, not even the Brazilian especial forces matched them inside the jungle.

The unit mounted a two day long guard around the villa undetected. They remained like stones just watching, assessing the best moment for a hit. They found such moment on the third day night, just minutes after dark, when most Pirates were there.

They placed the explosives, one by one with extreme precision, aiming to inflict the most pain and damage. The deployment passed undetected performed by the smallest and quickest of the team, a soldier no taller than five feet always under the protective scope of a deadly sniper. It was a careful and patient job, then wait some more for the blow and kill.

That night the explosion rocked as far as the UN camp, awaking in alert all the camp, a yellow brightness turned night into day, doomsday for the Pirates. After blowing the charges, inflicting heavy casualties and confusion among the pirates' side, Lt. Martinez unit stormed the villa with heavy gunfire, terminating most of the pirates in what became a massacre and the end of the pirate problem. The UN peacekeeping force was completely shocked the moment the helicopters saw the scene, a complete massacre of pirates, the long sought after target was history along with the enemy in it. The Dog had its meal.

That was the history of how the pirate issue came to an end, thanks to Lt. Martinez and his killing unit. They unleashed the furious Dog over the pirates and a legend was born.

Years later, Lt. Martinez would quit the Guatemalan army. He disagreed with many things and decided to call it quits and crossed the border into Mexico and joined a mercenary group. That's how he, one day, met Mr. Salomon Hajji, he was hired by him, at first, for security reasons and became close as Mr. Salomon gave Lt. Martinez the closest thing to a family, a good friend.

Now it was up to Peter Byron to keep the Dog on the leash. Peter had no idea how deadly the Dog could be but somehow he intuited it. Time was running out.

61.

SEVILLA, SPAIN

Transportes Europa S.A. was a small company founded by Terry Bernard, a former British lawyer, who decided to turn his passion into a business some years ago. So he moved to Spain, along with his wife, and invested his savings in a small trucking company. They have gone a long way since then.

Sevilla had long been a big cargo port since the Spanish empire times. It received and dispatched all maritime traffic to and from the vast Spanish colonies, scattered all around the globe. One can only imagine a routine day and the exotic wonders and treasures that the old port had seen along the years through its woods. Most of such precious things wasted by extravagant monarchs.

However, the port remained an important port especially for goods coming from America into Spain and Europe and an excellent place to run a transportation company given Terry's good contacts with American businesses. His business carried him all along Europe.

The weather in Sevilla is nice most of the time, an agreeable place whose buildings clearly resemble the time the Arabs ruled Spain and the city. There are Moorish facades all along a place where history and modernity blend along with different cultures. Terry loved it, specially the weather, and in that particular morning, the weather was fine.

Terry was aware and awaiting the arrival of Frank and Lucia. Peter Byron had been very descriptive in his request and Terry, being a long time friend, agreed to smuggle them both into Switzerland.

The phone on his desk rang. Must be them!

"Yes, Sara?" Terry answered.

"Sir, Frank's here to see you, shall I let him in?" asked Sara his secretary over the phone.

"Yes, Sara. Please, let them in."

"Nice to meet you, mate." Terry and Frank shook hands as Terry opened his office door to let them in.

"So you are going into Switzerland. It's a bloody ride, I must tell you. The sights, however, are beautiful." he explained.

"We'll go through a route that has little security. I know some people there. They will leave us in, no trouble."

"We'll depart tomorrow. I have arranged a room for you in a little hostel across the street. Just ask for Mariano there, he'll handle things for you, guys" explained Terry satisfied "I understand you are in hurry but, perhaps, on your next visit we can have a drink" he added politely and smiling.

They left the small office and entered the hostel. A tall Spanish guy, named Mariano, came to help them accommodate. Frank asked for the bill but Mariano responded calmly, "Don't worry, sir. It's already taken care of, enjoy your stay." Frank tipped Mariano, who left them in their room. It had a small but comfortable looking terrace that invited Frank to grab a beer from the mini frig and Lucia to join him. Perfect time for a little chat.

"So who is exactly this guy Antonio?" asked Frank.

"He's a business tycoon, he owns a Spanish conglomerate called Grupo Caza S.A. He does a lot of business in Mexico and has got himself in the president's close circle with dirty business" explained Lucia.

"Is that it? Are we allowing a tyrant to stay in office just because we don't want to give this guy the upper hand?" responded Frank, demanding a better explanation.

"No, it is far worse than that Frank. That's just the façade, you have to dig deeper. Antonio is just the tip of the iceberg. Behind him lies a bigger and darker group who is using Antonio as a spear head to fully get into Mexico. They have bought the president's second man, an influential politician working in secret for them through Antonio." explained Lucia as she stood to grab a beer, too.

"So what? I certainly do not mind about businesses making or losing money or interest groups or whatever. I'm not doing this for them. I'm here to try and stop those poor people's suffering. It has to stop." Frank said.

"It has precisely all to do with the people, Frank. Don't be shortsighted."

"How could it possibly be in the people's best interest if the bastard stays in power? Do explain, please."

"Antonio's group is planning precisely a coup d'état on President Trujillo, to make his inner man, Felipe, the current Secretary for Internal Affairs, become the president and, by the way Frank, he's far worse than Trujillo. He has ordered the most cruel killings of opposition members. They are manipulating president Trujillo to finish with the opposition before they take on power and put all the blame on him. He is cleaning the way for them. If the opposition is gone, there will be nobody to denounce their deeds. Can't you see?" explained Lucia.

"I'm aware of what you did and the case you are planning to bring upon Trujillo. You have been used by Antonio. He's behind the supposed evidence you have. He knows every movement you make. You are a big part of his plan, Frank!" added Lucia

"Liar!!! How could you?!!!" Frank exploded. He was realizing how true Lucia's words were. He was angry. They had been used and manipulated like chess pawns.

Lucia saw, in silence, the man's reaction. She gave him a couple of minutes to calm down, to assimilate the shock. Frank stood up in frustration and anger.

He stood up and returned to Lucia and, in a more calmed manner, he asked,

"How does he know our movements, Lucia?"

"He has an inner man in your group of witnesses." added Lucia.

"How could you be sure about that?"

"He told me that in person. I'm sorry, Frank." said Lucia sympathetically.

"Maria and Jose Murgia are the wife and child of one of them, somebody whose last name is the same, Murgia."

"Jose Murgia!!!!" Frank responded, both surprised and alarmed. "Jose, why haven't you told me man..." Frank said regretfully.

"They are counting on you to present the case. Once Trujillo is unauthorized and ruin, then they will start the operation from inside the Mexican government to depose Trujillo and make Felipe president."

"Oh, boy! They are clever."

"We cannot let them do that, but we cannot let Trujillo continue with the killings, we have to stop them both!"

"Things just got a hell more complicated"

"Peter and Robert were right. It's crucial you get to hand them all the info you collected. That's why I'm here, now I see everything clear."

Frank and Lucia remained on the terrace. They had a couple of beers more, exchanging thoughts on the matter and getting to know each other better.

Night fell on Sevilla. Tomorrow they would be departing in a three day long trip, and from there, to New York.

Terry had all set up. The guy knew what he was doing, four days left to New York with a game changing card in the deck.

62.

FRANKFURT—NEW YORK

There was something about her. It could have been the sincerity of her expressions, her commitment to the truth or, simply, her stunning beauty that had Frank thinking about her. How would have been her past life? How could somebody like her ended up doing this kind of job? Frank had the time to consider those questions. However, he did not dare to ask even though they cruised all Europe together and were now flying back to New York.

This was his easiest mission. Sometimes he even wondered if it was really necessary for him to go. He had learned not to question Robert. So far he seemed to be doing a marvelous job. Also, there was the game thing. He could not avoid feeling, more than ever, a mere chess pawn, moved by the unknown. He was, until very recently, unaware of and, he wondered how many times, in his service years, he was really serving obscure interests, hidden behind the curtain, puppeteers moving the strings with their very own and secret agenda.

Lucia seemed to be ok with the fact. Finally, her work, gathering the intel for Salomon Hajji in the past and now for Peter Byron, had her informed of the true color of things. There were differences even amongst field agents so it seemed. The first ones gathered the info and decided the target. The latter ones carried the strike like a muscle reacting to the brain's orders.

Lucia was sleeping as the plane flew crossing the Atlantic. The flight has been smooth and they were just hours away from New York JFK International Airport.

Frank watched her sleep like a baby. He realized she hadn't slept that well for weeks. It was a little cold. Frank covered her tenderly with a blanket, glad to have found her safe along with Jose's family. The sole fact of imagining Jose reuniting with his family made him feel extremely satisfied. They were sleeping too. They had very well earned it. Lucia did her part, the Intel was gathered.

But for him, things were just getting started. His time would come. Soon the brains would order and he, the muscle, would execute.

63.

MEXICO CITY, MEXICO

A thick curtain of rain washed the graves in the cemetery as the black and large car, carrying the late Salomon Hajji, headed the long procession of high end vehicles, carrying the most prominent people of Mexico's business elite and politicians of all sorts.

El Pantheon Frances, Mexico's elite Cemetery, was in its best galas to say good bye to a most prominent and influential figure in Mexican business, Salomon Hajji, whose body was brought from New York to be buried in the Hajji's Family mausoleum along with other late family members.

The mass had ended and time came for last words. The last good bye for a departing old man. The priest, an old friend of Salomon's pronounced a touchy speech. Some tears fell among the women and children who got to know him a little closer. The dark umbrellas congregated around his body, throwing flowers into his grave.

Rest in peace Salomon Hajji, some wished and expressed their sympathies to the widow as they slowly departed the cemetery the same way they arrived, leaving Salomon alone for his final rest. A couple of lonely figures, however, remained there when everybody had left the place, even after the widow left the grave. Those two figures, dressed in black, hidden beneath their umbrellas, remained standing there just watching and thinking about the dead man's memory, a good time to reflect in the presence of the final destiny, something specially truth for Peter Byron.

"They must be here soon, Peter." said Robert, ending the long silence since the funeral ceremony started. He could notice how Peter had been immersed in his thoughts, probably thinking about himself and the probable fate that awaited him just months away.

Robert's comment distracted Peter from his thoughts but remained serious. He did not reply anything to Robert. He just nodded, acknowledging what Robert said.

Minutes later they saw two men approaching. They were not dressed for the occasion but mixed well with the environment because of the long rain coats they wore. They came to Peter and Robert. The rain had tempered a little bit but remained constant.

"So you are Peter Byron." said one of the two tough looking fellows, who met them. He was a short Latino man. His skin had a dark copper tone and his features were thick and strong. He had small eyes, his black pupils seemed to fill completely, making his glance quite mystic. He very much appeared to be a descendant of the brave jungle tribes that even the mighty Mayas feared for their ferocity. Peter had heard about them before, but this was the first time he actually met one in person.

The man's escort remained completely silent, watching carefully at Robert and Peter with distrust, like a real bodyguard. He kept his right hand in the pocket of his raincoat, obviously placing gently his finger in the trigger of some gun, ready for the unexpected.

"Lt. Martinez?" responded Peter somewhat intimidated by the solemnity of the man.

"Yes, it's me." Lt. Martinez responded briskly.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Martinez." expressed Peter with sympathy, trying to get through the man's obvious mistrust armor. But his comment didn't cause any reaction on Lt. Martinez. He just nodded trying to be polite. Deep inside himself, he mourned.

"So, Mr. Peter, did you bring the info you promised?" asked Martinez directly.

"Yes, Lt., here it is." Peter grabbed a small memory device from his pocket and handed it to Lt. Martinez.

Lt. Martinez received the device and took a quick but careful look at it. Then, seeing Peter directly into his eyes, he said.

"Mr. Peter, we will review this, we will see you in New York soon."

"Yes, Lt. Martinez. We'll put an end to this suffering together" expressed Peter with conviction.

Lt. Martinez again nodded, and walked away from Peter and Robert along with the man he came with. Two figures soon got lost among the grey stone graves on the cemetery horizon as the constant rain continued to pound the ground.

Robert turned to Peter, intrigued, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

"How can a man like that be of any trust? Did you see how he behaved Peter?" asked Robert "and what about the other fellow? he did not remove his finger from the hidden gun during the whole conversation" he added.

"I notice the look in their eyes. They are cold blooded killers but they must have trusted us. Otherwise, they would have killed us, I'm sure." said Peter seriously.

"They will be very useful, Robert, I can tell you that..." concluded Peter as the two of them walked away from Salomon's grave.

64.

NEW YORK, U.S.A.

Frank, Lucia and the rest landed in New York. Finally, Lucia had her share of questions to Frank too. Mostly, the little interest Frank seemed to have in the intel details and the blind faith the big guy seemed to have placed on Robert and Peter called his attention.

"No. It doesn't matter if I am or not. I'm just a warrior, the muscle part in the equation. I just make things happen, I trust the brainy part to others, so..." responded Frank assuming the role he knew well as a tough guy, just like he did in his old days when he executed the mission assigned to him and his platoon. That's how Frank responded to Lucia's question whether or not he was not curious about the whole plot as the cab cruised New York.

The taxi stopped in the 89th street. From there, Frank and Jose's family would walk. Maria and Jose needed to catch some air. They were very excited about reuniting with Jose. Lucia had a place she could stay in when in New York and it was not that far. She decided she would walk as well. The group said good bye and went their separate ways.

A few meters away, Frank and Maria could see a lonely figure standing in the street, staring directly at them, with tears in his eyes. Little Jose could not help it. It was dad!

He ran as fast as his little legs allowed him to. His dad gave him a big hug and kissed his forehead several times, thanking God, over and over again.

"Frank... Thank you man..."

"No problem, Jose, I'm glad too!"

65.

NEW YORK, U.S.A.

"Lt. Martinez, you have a flight to catch." said Peter Byron over the phone as the car, driven by Robert, cruised the highway on its way to Manhattan.

"Peter, are you sure?" asked Robert, cautioning Peter.

"I'm afraid we have no other choice, Robert. The Dog is avid to kill. This time, we'll please him" answered Peter quite confidently "The only thing is... we will tell him who to kill!" added Peter.

"I see your thoughts are clear now, Peter." agreed Robert.

"Yes, they are now Salomon is dead, kid, may he rest in peace now..." Then, Peter turned thoughtful again as he fixated his glance to the road outside.

The call energized Lt. Martinez, who packed the basic stuff he would need. He was now at the airport of Mexico City, awaiting his turn to board Mexican Lines, flight 234, destination JFK international airport in New York.

Lt. Martinez didn't know what to expect even though he met Peter Byron and Robert in the funeral.

He went over the evidence Peter had given him. Now there was no doubt the man was telling the truth. The opportunity laid before him to help his late friend for the last time. He mourned his old friend deep within him. To finish Salomon's mission became a matter of honor for him, his friend's last wish had to be granted.

He was immersed in his thoughts during the 5-hour flight. Lots of thoughts danced in his head. When was the last time he was in U.S. territory? He could not remember and it was not something that attracted him at all. He hopped his staying wouldn't be long. He relaxed and tried to get some sleep.

Hours later, Lt. Martinez landed in New York for the first time. He was picked up by a driver sent by Peter Byron. He was to attend tomorrow's meeting with Frank, Lucia, Robert and Peter, probably, the most important meeting ever for the improbable team.

66.

GENEVA, SWITZERLAND

The outpost guard opened the door for the dark blue Rolls Royce to drive into the headquarters building complex of the International A&A Oil and Energy Wealth Management Partners or A&A Partners located in Geneva, Switzerland.

The sophisticated office building complex towered on the outskirts of Geneva, a few miles away from the financial district. Its main goal, according to its brief website description, was to provide clients with long term capital-intensive solutions. Its client base included extremely high net worth individuals, family trusts, other bank funds and sovereign funds from many African, South East Asian and Middle East governments, an enterprise secretly valued way north of the most known commercial and investment banks worldwide.

The elegant glass and iron structures upped many stories high gracefully and softly into the skies, resembling a timid water cascade as the beautiful Swiss mountains landscape was reflected by the glass walls of the three buildings matching the complex beauty to those of the Swiss landscape.

The lobby didn't rank low in elegance either, compared to the façade as a fine green Persian rug covered the floor it all, from the very building entrance and well into the reception. A mix of fine wood and well worked steel details decorated the walls, where paintings of beautiful landscapes from Africa, Asia and Latin America hanged finely framed from the walls, making the building be adequate even to the finer of tastes.

Joseph Gala was received by a handsome and lean young man in his thirties, who approached him from the main entrance. The young man was an ambitious energy market analyst, the first ever to attend a board of directors meeting and, Joseph Gala's son.

"Mr. Gala, sir, the board is expecting us. I'm afraid they are aware of the recent events in Spain," said Lucian Francoise-Gala, frowning his hairy blond eyebrows in clear sign of worry.

"Don't worry, Lucian, we have the situation under control." responded Joseph Gala, faking a smile as they walked to the elevators. "Besides, you know how the board is, they exaggerate things quite a lot" Joseph added, justifying himself under the inquisitive sight of Lucian.

The elevator finally stopped on the 32th floor, officially the last one, letting the two of them out as the extensive hallway laid before them. There was a security checkpoint just meters away from them. Quickly, two heavy armed guards approached them to ask for their identification and clearance. They were walking not just any other floor in the building but the most important one, where a lot of sensible info was stored but, most importantly, it was the chairman's office and the board meeting room. It was rumored among the fund employees that few people ever had the privilege to walk that floor.

The floor was frequented only by the secretive board members and their distinguished visitors, mostly heads of state and billionaires. No employee had ever seen in person a member of the board before. They always arrived by helicopter. The three helipads were connected to the 32th floor each one, by a hallway.

Joseph Gala had been there three times for the last four years when the project officially started, a little before recruiting Antonio Cazador to serve the funds projects. He was rumored to be a candidate to occupy a seat at the board.

They passed the clearance desk and were walking down the hallway on their way to the meeting room when Lucian stopped his father spontaneously.

"Father..." he warned. Lucian didn't say that word often.

"Yes, Lucian?" asked Joseph Gala intrigued.

"The chairman himself is assisting the meeting, father!" Lucian said.

Joseph stopped to think for a moment, to make sense of what Lucian had just told him. He took a deep breath and expressed, resigned "All right then, let the odd man come."

Both men entered the meeting room to find the board members already waiting for them to start the meeting. The place was surprising, much more impressive than any war room in the world and certainly as equipped as any. The enormous round wooden table was surrounded by huge screens depicting marked maps of some regions in Mexico. The tall roof was all decorated with real gold details, the luxury was unmatched, a place designed to impress the unimpressionable ones. But, perhaps, the most shocking fact for Joseph and Lucian was that the chair, where the chairman should be, was empty. Lucian and Joseph were puzzled.

"Please, Mr. Gala, take a seat." indicated one of the seven board members, pointing at two empty chairs on his right.

They nodded and took a seat, looking at each of the board members. They had already met some of them but some others were not familiar except, perhaps, for one of them who was a worldwide famous investor. They did not dare to ask any question, just remained there sitting, watching and being watched closely by the board. Everybody was in silence when, suddenly, another board member interrupted.

"We are sorry for the delay. This is an important occasion. We are waiting for the chairman to arrive."

"He must be here any time now" added another.

Suddenly, the sound of a helicopter landing, just above the room, reverberated in the room.

"Ha! He has arrived" said a board member gladly.

The tense silence became ever more awkward.

Soon, two of the board members stood up solemnly. The two ones closest to the door. One of them opened the door for the chairman.

It was a most unexpected scene. He was enormous, almost 6'5 feet height and had a muscled body easily outmatching any other in the room. He was wearing a black suit and a yellow tie. It was all the finest silk. It could be told at first glance but that was not the most peculiar trait. The chairman's face was completely deformed by burnt, had no nose or lips, but his eyes were there, with a soul penetrating sharpness. And, there was his strange golden ring, a big ring that glared in one of his right hand fingers, all with strange symbols.

The chairman was welcomed with servitude by the board. He did not shake hands with any of them, just got to his chair and immediately turned his attention to Joseph and Lucian, who felt his intense presence at the onset.

The room remained silent. Nobody dared to say a word before the chairman did. He reviewed silently the board, acknowledging they were all there. He took a grey stone from his pocket to the amazement of the board and tossed it to the center of the table, making a loud noise that shocked everybody.

The Chairman relaxed on his chair, then, he continued,

"That grey simple rock I threw on the table is uranium, a very good grade one. I just brought it from Nigeria but, unfortunately, there is little of it, too little." he regretted.

"Our customer is desperate to get his dirty hands into the uranium of Mexico, the last source of high quality uranium, situation, which reminds me of a history I once knew about, the root to all this project, the very prime seed to it." added the chairman.

"Few people remember that, once, existed in Mexico a nuclear program that scared the shit out of the U.S. It became possible because of the uranium available in its natural form, which by the way, is still there waiting for us to get it for the customer."

"The U.S. made Mexico sign, in 1978, the treaty of Tlatelolco, banning Mexico from developing nuclear weaponry and ballistic rocket capabilities forever. However, the capacity to enrich uranium remains intact, well hidden into the titanic government structure, and it's a quite efficient one, let me add. Obviously our oriental client wants to restart the enriching program with a uranium source nearby."

"Now, our customer is looking to upgrade his bargaining chips on the geopolitical table. That means a hell lot of power. Our customer has been acquiring during the years, lots of resources in Africa and other third world countries. Gentlemen, once we get our man in the presidency, our customer can deploy a wide array of assets to secretly rerun the nuclear program and reshape the balance of power. Needless to say, our place would be privileged. We will reap the benefits of our client 's strong position." a sinister smile on his face became obvious as his eyes glared.

Suddenly, the chairman hammered the table in one of his usual sudden mood changes, with a tremendously powerful fist that cracked the thick table. The board was terrified watching the chairman turn furious.

"It has come to my knowledge that the guy you hired, Antonio Cazador, fucked things up and we might not be able to accomplish our purpose!"

"Luckily, the customer is not aware yet!"

"I have had enough of this. We have to kill the president and impose our man!"

"I have thought about it. It will be extremely easy. First, the case will be presented in the U.N. convention, damping President's Trujillo popularity for good. Second, that will inevitably bring the opposition into the spotlight. Finally, we kill the president and then blame his fall on the opposition. Our president is named interim president and that's it, problem solved!" the chairman explained.

He allowed a minute for everybody in the room to process what he had just said.

"Mr. Chairman, how are we killing the President?" one of the board members dared to ask.

The chairman fixated his attention and smiled "There is no man on earth I cannot kill. I have my methods for that or I wouldn't be the chairman, right?" he responded confidently.

"I have a last mission for your guy, Antonio Cazador." the chairman added, looking at Joseph and Lucian.

"He will do whatever it takes to present the case, that's it!" the chairman concluded.

"That's what we are counting on!" "If he fails, you both will die!" the chairman threatened Joseph.

Joseph was speechless and so was Lucian. Shortly afterwards, the chairman stood up and left the room, leaving Joseph and the rest of the board assessing the chairman's new and dire course of action.

His determination would bring worldwide condemnation on the weak opposition, giving the government green light to slaughter them all and subdue the civil population of the country effectively, throwing Mexico into a bloody tyranny while the customer turns its resources against the northern neighbor, risking a war between the U.S. and Mexico, much to the detriment of Mexican people. Shear and prolonged suffering awaited.

'He's a real monster...' Lucian thought.

67.

NEW YORK, U.S.A.

The sun hid timidly behind the cloud filled sky in that New York morning as if the very sun was keeping its hand close to its chest, just like Lt. Martinez was doing. He had slept little the night before the meeting and, finally, he was there seeing, for the very first time, a bunch of people that, being unaware, had worked a lot to help Salomon in his final cause. They were there to dot the Is in Salomon's and Lucia's findings.

Peter and Robert talked a bit as usual, getting the screen and projector ready. Frank seemed to be a tough guy, just like him but his capabilities would have to remain unknown for him, at least for the moment. He had seen Lucia in photos before, Salomon used to talk a lot about her and her skills but mostly of her good hearted and devoted being, and there was the other Mexican guy, who looked scared and weak, wandering around the room nervously.

"So you are Lt. Martinez?" asked Lucia, aiming directly at him.

"Yes, I am. You must be Lucia." Lt. Martinez responded politely.

"I'm sorry about Salomon, I knew you were close friends." Lucia expressed her sympathy, and Lt. Martinez smiled gently returning the kind gesture.

The screen, in front of them, turned blank. That caught everybody's attention and the chat among them stopped. Soon, photographs of documents started to appear on the screen. Robert stood up to address them.

"It started months ago when this man, Jose, approached me in Mexico with evidence implicating Mexican President Trujillo into a mass murder and genocide. Thanks to Frank "Big Luck" Smith, we managed to escape from Mexico and reach here where Peter and the firm ordered it all and prepared a huge case against the Mexican government for genocide and human rights abuse. It turned out Peter's late friend, Mr. Salomon Hajji, was conducting an investigation into Antonio Cazador's intentions and network. The turn of events led us to realize, thanks to the late Salomon, that it was all part of the same conspiracy to depose president Trujillo and put, in his place, a puppet following Antonio's interests, which would cause a disastrous tragic series of consequences to the Mexican people. There seems to be a interest on Antonio's part to get to the uranium, according to Lucia's findings. We still haven't figured out why this interest was above many other better businesses in Mexico such as the one he acquired with oil and gas distribution" he explained as things started to make sense inside Lt. Martinez and Jose Murgia.

He continued, "It seems there is a larger operation behind Antonio, we do not know who or why, we will investigate it thoroughly but that will have to wait since more urgent threats are coming our way. We have concluded two things: The persecution in Mexico has to stop, so the case will be presented although in a lighter fashion, we will reveal just enough info to put Martin Trujillo on the spotlight and regime and use international pressure and vigilance to stop the persecution. Once it gets to be known worldwide, it will become impossible for him to continue doing so. We anticipate he will find escape goats among his army generals and stop the killings in light of the international community pressure. That way we will fulfill our original purpose of stopping the killings. I, myself, with Jose and the rest of the witnesses have everything prepared and we are ready to do it quite successfully, that's up to us and we will complete our mission, but that is just the first part." Robert explained, they nodded as agreeing with the reasonable plan to stop the killing and aid the people and political prisoners.

"Excellent, Robert!" expressed Frank with enthusiasm, "Let the mother fucker's shit hit the fan!"

Peter, then, started talking about the second part. He was nervous. His hand trembled.

"Now, the second part, the most difficult and dangerous one, we also anticipate that once the case comes out, Antonio will see that it won't be enough to bring Martin Trujillo down as he is expecting. However, president's Trujillo situation would be extremely fragile and Antonio could try to kill him, blaming the opposition. That's the worst scenario possible, believe me."

"Hold it there, Peter!" both Frank and Lt. Martinez interrupted.

"Are you suggesting we should protect president Trujillo?!" Frank asked astonished.

"No, I am asking you to kill the president's second man, the Secretary for Internal Affairs, Don Felipe Mendez!" responded Peter decisively.

"To accomplish what, Peter?" asked Lt. Martinez, calmed and cold.

Then, a photo of Don Felipe Mendez walking out of Grupo Caza headquarters in Madrid talking with Antonio Cazador, appeared on the screen. Then, the audio of Antonio Cazador telling Lucia how beneficial it would be for Spanish businesses to have somebody like Felipe in the president's place, concluding it might happen, suggesting it as real possibility could be clearly heard.

"To stop definitively Antonio's plan, cutting his network for good." responded Peter.

Peter lit a cigarette, a gesture completely unexpected that took everybody by surprise.

Robert objected

"Peter I did not know you smoked!"

"There is a lot you don't know about me, kid." responded Peter somewhat aggressively so Robert backed up on his objection.

"Antonio has to die too. We must send the message to whoever is backing him up. We are dead serious about it!"

"It will be my pleasure!" Lt. Martinez responded as the killing instinct was beginning to take shape and his sight revealed it, the Dog was being unleashed for the kill.

"You will need each other's help, Martinez. Let me introduce you an extremely capable man." said Peter, looking at Frank.

"He is Frank "Big Luck" Smith."

"Thanks, but I work better with my people. So Frank, I'm sorry." said Lt. Martinez, minimizing Frank.

The impolite gesture irritated Frank, who grabbed Lt. Martinez's hand quite harshly during the handshake. Lt. Martinez, feeling the deliberate strength Frank used, answered in the same way, strengthening his grip on Frank's hand. They both discretely engaged in a duel, Martinez fought Frank's attempt to humiliate him. Finally, Frank's strength started to overcome Martinez so Martinez reacted hitting Frank's foot with his ankle. Frank resisted the pain, remaining immobile, applying more strength to his grip in his effort to obligate Martinez to ask him to stop. 'This guy seems tough, We'll soon see how much...' Martinez thought. The little duel came to Robert's attention when he saw Martinez stepping on Frank's foot. He decided to end it.

"Hey, Frank, would you help me turn off the projector?" he said.

Frank released Martinez, throwing him a daring look. Martinez smiled.

"Nice guy you brought, Peter!" said Frank, nodding at Martinez.

"He's one of the best, Frank, as you are. You should give it a try and work together. I insist." responded Peter.

"Ok, Peter, I will accept Frank, but I will make the plan." said Martinez, imposing his own conditions.

"My people, my guns, my choice. Is that ok for you, cowboy?" asked Martinez.

"It is ok, Lt. Martinez but it'd better work." responded Frank.

"It will my friend, I have killed more people than you can count." bragged Martinez.

"They call me the Dog for a reason, Frankie!"

Peter interrupted to point out the last details and end the meeting "Frank and Martinez, you will wait after we present the case, the murder should look like an accident to avoid putting pressure on the opposition."

"We will need a month to prepare for the hit, Peter, I'll give you a list of what we need, I already have the people, but we have to get some equipment for the mission. It's very expensive gear." said Martinez.

"Give me the list, my contacts will get the stuff you need, Lieutenant." said Peter.

"My friends, I wish I had the correct words to tell you in this moment but what I can absolutely tell you is that this anonymous sacrifice and effort we are doing is for a just cause and may God help us all now more than ever" concluded Peter, visibly touched and nervous.

'Keep God out of this, Peter. There's no God in hell and that's where we are going...'Frank thought while past memories came to his mind.

The meeting ended. Frank, Martinez and Jose left the room, leaving Lucia, Robert and Peter in the office.

Lucia waited a little bit. Then, she approached Peter.

"What is in it for me, Peter? What else do I have to do?" asked Lucia.

"Nothing else, Lucia, you have done and sacrificed a lot for this cause, your money is already in your account, every single penny you deserve it and more." responded Peter with a genuine fatherly smile "You are free." he added.

"No!" Lucia responded, "It is not over, there's so much at risk, Peter. I cannot just walk away."

"I appreciate it, Lucia, but I'm afraid everything is taken care of" insisted Peter, trying to alleviate Lucia.

"We don't know who is behind Antonio, Peter!"

"We will find out soon. Whoever is behind, will lose with all of this. I'm sure he or she will show his or her ugly face shortly or we will know from Antonio once Frank and Martinez get him, and they will trust me."

"What if not Peter, I have the feeling we are dealing with something bigger and deadlier than we imagine." Lucia warned.

"What do you suggest to do, Lucia?" Peter gave in when he saw Lucia's insistence. Something inside him made him trust Lucia's intuition "Just tell me what you need."

"I will start the investigation on my own. I know some people that know some people, Peter. It will be a good place to start" "I'll keep you informed" Lucia concluded, leaving the room satisfied.

68.

NEW YORK, U.S.A.

The timing was perfect to make a bug hype out if it, exactly a week before the U.N. human rights summit awaited anxiously in the very same New York City but just blocks away in the District Court of New York.

It was an interesting morning to be a reporter and many of them were already deployed in the precedent stone stairs to the District Court building. They were tipped off the day before to be there by the very same Robert Higgins. News reporters kept arriving to the place at every minute. CN, CBC, Monde, The New York paper, The W. Post, the BC and much other media networks could be distinguished among the reporters and camera crowds.

The clock struck 10:00 a.m., New York time. A black big van stopped in the street, just in front of the Court House by the classic stone stairs. Reporters immediately spotted Robert, a lawyer and the Mexican witnesses who shyly lowered their heads afraid of the newsmen. Robert noticed how the congregating crowd outside the van windows was making the witnesses anxious so Robert told them to stick to what they had been told and not to answer any questions directly. Then, he said some encouraging words that lifted the spirit of the group.

"Will you directly accuse President Trujillo of genocide?"

"How many people have been killed by the government?"

"Are you expecting any retaliation from the Mexican government?"

"The Mexican government denied any wrong doing, what's your take on that?"

"Hey! Over here."

"Any statement?"

"Have you consulted with the US government?"

The reporter crowd noise became unbearable while asking questions, making everybody confused. Two policemen tried to help Robert and the witnesses walk up the stairs but they were advancing really at a slow pace as cameras and recorders took sound and pictures of the moment intensively. Robert, then, stopped and, in a loud and clear voice, said,

"Gentlemen, I would like to make a statement. Please give me a minute. It's important, then, I will answer a few questions to the best I can." Robert begged.

The newsmen immediately made silence as Robert climbed a stair up to be heard better. The camera clicking was intense as lots of photos were being taken. Robert took a deep breath to control his intense feelings and started,

"As you may know, recent events in Mexico had been tragic and inhuman. We have sound proofs that until now, secret political persecution has been taking place in Mexico for at least four years during Martin Trujillo tenure as president of Mexico. Such persecution has claimed cowardly the lives of thousands of innocent civilians and has cost a staggering amount of resources that had thrown most of the Mexican people into poverty and famish." At this point, he was interrupted by a question. He lifted his hand as a sign to wait a little bit more.

"It has to stop." he emphasized, "We are devoted to the cause of peace and justice. That's why we have made an exceptional effort to gather feasible evidence of such events, but it is, in greater part, thanks to these heroic people that escaped the regime with the evidence, risking their lives and the lives of their beloved ones. That's why, we can stand here today, knocking on the door of the justice for their voice to be heard. The alien torn statute gives the United States courts jurisdiction to judge over faults committed against the law of nations, recognizing the victims' human rights. Our demand is based on the very basis of a free society, the right to be recognized as a human being who bears rights and obligations. We will not ask for a criminal conviction as we know well it is not what the Alien tort statute looks for, but we will ask for the U.S. court to recognize that a genocide is taking place and condemn the Mexican government and the officials responsible to indemnify accordingly with an amount determined by the court, all the victims whose human rights had been harmed by this illegal persecution, both under the Mexican law and the law of nations" He concluded with visible determination.

"Now I will answer some questions. Please, just raise your hands." he indicated.

Almost all of the reporters there raised their hands but he picked up one randomly.

"Hi, it's Marion Spencer for the BC network and my question is: Are you directly aiming your accusation at President Trujillo? Thank you."

"Being he the head of state or the highest ranking official in the Mexican government structure, he is indirectly responsible of all actions his subordinates may take, so, yes, he is responsible for most part. However, it's up to the court to decide the grade of responsibility in the events, based on the case we'll present in court" Robert responded cleverly, knowing his answer could very well become headline material.

"It's Stuart Jones for the W. Post and my question is: Will you ask the US government involvement in this matter since many of the high ranking officials you will accuse hold diplomatic immunity?"

"No, we will not ask directly for the US government to be involved, we have, since the beginning and until now, held this case private, and we are not looking to create any diplomatic tension between any countries." A good response to a tough question, but the reporter insisted hacking a question through,

"It will necessarily. You are accusing a head of state currently in office" the reporter said ironically.

"It's not up to us to assess that. However, the Court might ask for the involvement of the Department of State involvement. That is a real possibility."

"Last question." Robert indicated.

"Johnny Delca for FIN, my question is..."

But then somebody pushed the reporter, who responded the pusher with another push, causing disorder among the reporters, a situation that forced Robert's team to take him into the building but not before thanking the reporters who had attended.

"Wow, Robert, this is already a scandal, it will really rain on President Trujillo!" expressed with enthusiasm his assistant lawyer once crossing the door into the building.

"Yes, the most important thing is accomplished, the scrutiny over Martin's regime will become absolute. He will not be able to make a single move unseen, that's what's most important. It will stop the killings" responded Robert, "all we have to do now is provide proofs in a constant flow, to secure that."

"I don't believe the court will condemn anybody in particular to pay, but it will surely recognize what's happening, that's our most important victory" he concluded.

Outside the media hype continued as most reporters remained in the scene, waiting for them to get a final declaration.

Peter was following the events on TV, extremely glad and proud of how well Robert handled the media and he was sure the topic at the UN summit will be the political persecution in Mexico. Luckily, some country might even set a position into the next general UN assembly.

He was now sure he had chosen his successor well and smiled in peace and relief, he was now getting ready to leave this world and face his final judgment before the celestial court firmly, in the hope he has done more good than bad in what had been his life, which was slowly vanishing away from him. He could no longer walk, his legs lost strength during the night, his time was getting really close, he said a little pray to the maker. It's been decades since the last time he did that, he felt a strange and filling emotion, perhaps his beloved God won't be too hard on him.

It seems it's up to Frank and Martinez now...

It is all in their hands now, dear Lord!

69.

U.S.A.—MEXICO INTERNATIONAL BORDER

"Who would have thought it would be that easy to sneak south of the border into Mexico!" Frank said as the all terrain small vehicle speeded though the Arizona desert into Mexican territory.

"They focus mostly on stopping Mexicans from crossing into the U.S. They don't really mind a lot who is sneaking into Mexico. As long as you stay out of the known drug trafficking routes, they won't mind, remember, the minutemen use vehicles like this, the radar must have taken us for border vigilantes ha!" responded Lt. Martinez who was driving the vehicle at full speed. "We used to do this quite a lot with my guys."

"There is a tiny ghost town a few miles east, where there are ranches. It's the toughest part of the crossing, there are a lot of Mexican Federal Policemen in those surroundings but, don't worry, I know a shortcut to the highway. Once there, we'll be ok." explained Lt. Martinez, pointing east and slowing down the vehicle a bit cautiously.

"My guys are waiting for us, they are getting things ready, they are quite good at it!"

"I bet they are. How is Peter sending you the gear we requested?" asked Frank.

"It's easy, my merchant passes a lot of weaponry through the gulf. He uses little submarines that glue underneath big cargo ships. They confuse the Marine patrol radars that way. It's quite an operation, the guys are clever. For the right amount of bucks, they can smuggle anything you please."

"Even unmanned aircrafts and drones?"

"Ha! Way more than that, you'll see, my American friend" Lt. Martinez bragged about his people.

"Have you ever worked before with drones?"

"We actually have our own design drones, Frank" responded Martinez. Then, he continued "We know a clever guy in Africa, that's the route our shipments follow. We knew him by chance. This guy is a genius. He developed a remote control system using cell phones signals that can control a drone weapon system, that way, we can mount small missiles into, otherwise, incapable of weapon bearing small drones. Because of its size no radar can spot them, they pass as birds."

"Amazing! That way you can get close to any target and execute with precision." said Frank surprised.

"You got it, but that's not the best part. We can control as many as 10 drones at a time with this guy's software"

"Holy Shit! That is impossible!"

"Not for this guy Frank, oh, and he is coming along with the cargo to help us." added Lt. Martinez, smiling.

"They won't even know what got them!"

They vehicle was now reaching the highway. From there, it was a matter of time until they reached their destination, Lt. Martinez's safe house in Toluca, Mexico.

Meanwhile the submarine was on its way into Mexican waters with a set of drones and potent explosives.

70.

ESTADO DE MEXICO, MEXICO

The Modified Complex UAV was a relatively old UAV (unmanned air vehicle). It was created in Italy around the year 2009, more than 20 years ago, mostly used by the Pakistani air force. In spite of its antiquity, the UAV was handpicked by Anatoly Ivanovich for its versatility and relatively low cost.

Anatoly required vastly improved remote control capabilities that only broadband could provide. He had been a UAV pilot for many years but had always believed that the best capabilities of the unmanned weaponry could only be achieved by making the machines independent from human piloting, making them capable of decision taking and he knew that meant sophisticated software.

His precious software provided the UVs with decision making capabilities, his software strength relied on its adaptability and its extremely potent data processing through designed state of the art algorithms, making it the closest thing there are to a human brain.

He adapted better sensors to the Condor UAV and better data transmitters. It made the whole communication process broadband. The codification and processing part, however, could only take place in a most computing capable machine, that's why, the decoding and processing process had to be made on a capable computer so broadband was adapted.

There was the weaponry, the aircraft was enhanced just enough to bear weaponry, two lasers guided intelligent missiles with heavy armor penetration capabilities and wide range aim.

The perfect automated killing machine had to be capable of initiative and that was Anatoly's obsession. He had accomplished just that like no other army in the world and he did it with an old computer, lots of hours and lots of vodka.

But it was not the best part, the very best part is that they could work in teams, synchronizing themselves according to the target inputs, fully maximizing fire power without losing precision, the perfect strategy to use when heavy fire resistance was expected.

Anatoly was just thrilled about the idea of testing his machines limits, and he would certainly need to. They were planning a full blown attack to the Political Intelligence Office headquarters, the most guarded building in the country and also home office to the Secretary for Internal affairs, the main target.

The drones had to clear the way through a devastating bombardment, then secure the area, destroying anything that might come close to the perimeter, and then cover the way out with the target, an extremely complicated multi task mission.

It was Tuesday, late in the afternoon, when a mysterious figure knocked on the door of the house. Frank and Martinez immediately grabbed their guns, so did the rest of the people there. Fearing being discovered, Lt. Martinez slowly got close to the door. Suddenly, he recognized Anatoly's figure and lowering his gun, he opened the door for his visitor to enter.

"Anatoly, my old friend!" he exclaimed happily "you made it here!"

"Yes, Dog, it's me in person, you are going to need my personal supervision for what you are planning to do my friend, grand war firepower." said Anatoly "and you called the right man for the job!"

"Who else, my friend, I didn't find anybody crazier than you, Ukrainian son of a bitch."

"Come in, have a cigar with us, my friend, make yourself at home." said Martinez as he invited Anatoly to make himself home.

Anatoly walked into the house, there was not much furniture as expected but there was an old couch there. Anatoly decided to land over the couch to stretch his legs. Then, he asked one of the guys for a cigarette, he was given one immediately.

He sucked it deep two times under the curious glance of the people there and mostly Frank's ,who observed every move, every gesture he made. Anatoly felt Frank's scrutiny and looked at him. It didn't take long for him to realize Frank was American.

"Americans? Here with you, Martinez!" Anatoly flipped.

"Hey, Tovarich, I'm on the same side here! Take it easy!" Frank responded.

Anatoly turned to Martinez who responded calmly.

"He's right, he is on our side, don't worry about him, Anatoly." explained Martinez, Anatoly felt some relief, he was wanted by the Americans, past troubles haunting him.

"So, Dog, let's cut the chase, shall we?" said Anatoly, lighting a second cigarette.

"Ok, my friend, here's the plan." Lt. Martinez stood up and unfolded a map and blueprints over the improvised living room table. Then, he took a marker and began drawing some circles around the whole map.

"Hmmm. Do you know exactly what are we dealing with, Martinez? How many, with what type of equipment and where?" asked Anatoly submerged in the map.

"Yes, the reliable field info says the place is divided in perimeters, each one with their own defense system, first there is an outside perimeter, mostly check points reinforced with machine gun towers and deployable concrete barricades designed to stop vehicles and small tanks, also probable an RPG squad, we have chosen to break in through this side wall." Martinez, then, drew another small circle on the south side of the complex.

"I see, there is a high ground, I imagine you are planning to use it..." added Anatoly, pointing at a photograph.

"Exactly, we'll deploy there the hell's fire. It's a double, automatic, remote controlled high caliber round gun mini station designed by yours truly, it can cover us both sides and give us a few minutes, keeping the defending garrison entertained."

Anatoly sucked the last out of his cigarette, then, Frank approached the table.

"Only an RPG could destroy it that quickly, you have to eliminate the nearby RPG squads first." added Frank.

"No problem, my babies can do that pretty quickly." Anatoly bragged.

"I ordered a small UAV helicopter equipped with an electric machine gun. It's a real pain in the ass, It can open a whole new front on its own. Trust me, the damn thing stings like a mad fucking bee. It's gorgeous!"

"There is a second perimeter, we'll get into it the moment we blast the wall. It mostly consists on the special guard resident garrison. The guys are well trained and well armed, everything from snipers to RPGs. They are organized in cells and zones but can gather if required. That is unacceptable. They move fast and there are around a hundred according to our calculations." Lt. Martinez explained.

"How many men do you have, Lt.?"

"We have 35 five men top class, trained, special forces."

"And how about the equipment?"

"We have Neo 2000 slide shotguns, perfect for close range combat as we are expecting. We also have eight F M-17 modular assault rifles geared for a bit longer range and accuracy, our best field shooters will be equipped with them."

"And of course, two master snipers to cover us. They will also carry our baby KS heavy riffle to hit armored vehicles and heavy targets, my personal favorite." added Martinez. "Of course, we carry high military grade explosives and hand grenades."

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph! That's some serious firepower!" said Anatoly excited.

"Yes, we'll unleash hell in there!"

"What for? I mean, why? The odds are clearly against you pulling such an assault successfully, Martinez and American friend." asked Anatoly intrigued.

"It's for a good cause, Anatoly, this time it's a worthwhile cause, we are doing it for the freedom of the people in Mexico."

Anatoly remained silent just looking at the team's faces, they all knew how slim their chances were and that most of them would die there but still he realized how determined the squad was, none of them blinked in the face of coming danger, they all believed in the cause, that's what gave them inner strength.

The hours went by, minute after minute, detail after detail, every second was taken into account and timed. The team had to act like a precision watch, flawlessly synchronized. They divided in two teams, the first would create a distraction, split the complex guard creating a distraction and engaging directly the special elite guard lowering their numbers, causing heavy casualties among them while the other team accomplishes the mission objective leaving the place with its target secured for interrogation.

Lt. Martinez would head team one, inflicting heavy casualties was his trick, he had to live up to his nickname, The Dog. Frank would go and capture the target with team two, his training would best fit that purpose.

They would be under Anatoly's aircrafts supervision the whole mission, from the synchronized first bombardment until the escaping with the football.

Anatoly's part consisted in providing devastating air superiority and in grinding the complex defenses and the adjacent military garrison to ashes. For that, he counted on his deadly high tech toys. They would be like crows, pounding hell and fire over the special guard until no one is left standing.

The team was getting ready, arms ready, the plan was ready. As soon as Don Felipe, the Secretary for Internal Affairs gets into his office that morning, hell would break loose over them.

Operation morning football was a go...

71.

MEXICO CITY, MEXICO

For days, the news continued upsetting President Martin Trujillo. He received newspapers from all over the world every morning in his office, and each of them the mentioned the case presented against him, even the N.Y. talked about him in the front page and it was not good news.

It almost spoiled his breakfast in the president's private suite garden. Suddenly, the telephone of the room rang. It was a most private telephone, only close family and national security advisors with the highest clearance could have known that number, the president was not surprised, he was expecting the call.

He took his time to reach the phone, knowing who it was and that it would ring as long as necessary.

"Mister President?" a solemn voice asked.

"General Ortega, are there any news?" President Trujillo asked with curiosity.

"Yes, Mister President, they are making the assault now, just like the woman said. They are now heading to the target." Ortega explained, some excitement could be noticed in his words.

"Is the Secretary there yet?"

"Yes, he just arrived five minutes ago."

"Good, I'll call him to his office to keep him there" President Trujillo said, "No backups to the special guards in the complex, I don't want outside divisions interfering with them, we'll let them get the traitor, after all, if they can't stop the assault on their own, they won't be that special after all, right, General Ortega?" President Trujillo added ironically, but instructing the army not to interfere with Lt. Martinez and Frank's attack.

"Oh and Ortega..."

"Yes Mister President!"

"Have you discovered the tipster identity yet?"

"No mister President. We only know one thing... It is a woman."

72.

THE POLITICAL INTELLIGENCE OFFICE ADMINISTRATIVE HEADQUARTERS, MEXICO

"Lt., it's positive the target is in the building. Over." The radio transmitted.

"Frank, LET'S GO!"

"Rodger Martinez, LET'S ROLL."

The contingent of motorcycles split into two groups, one headed north, the other headed south towards the first checkpoint in the outside perimeter at full speed.

The two soldiers at the post had not even looked at the horizon, completely unaware of what was coming at them. A minute passed and the motors could be heard getting close fast. That's when immediately the two of them got their guns ready and helmets for the routine checkup. Unfortunately, a little too late for the two of them as a small rocket, fired from one of the Anatoly's Condor UAVs, impacted on the post, exploding it into ashes, a direct hit, a good one preventing the deployment of the first concrete barricade.

At the very same moment the northern outpost exploded just like the southern one.

Air and land teams moved precisely wasting no time, the complex alarm sounded when the explosions were heard. By the time the teams reached the walls, the group of UAVs pounded the complex, releasing heavy fire power over the adjacent military garrison. A huge cloud of black smoke was getting bigger and bigger as red flashes illuminated the complex.

The pounding was brutal and took the garrison by complete surprise. Casualties mounted fast on the guards size at a really fast rate, the inside garrison was shocked but well trained, they immediately deployed following the protocol.

The UAVs kept tracking and destroying RPGs squads inside the complex outdoors. 'Good! Very good!' thought Martinez and his team. The Gatling gun auto station or Hell's fire was successfully deployed on the south wall. The explosive charge blasted a huge hole in the wall, raising a huge cloud of dust and dark smoke into the air. That's when hell really broke loose!

Intense gunfire welcomed Martinez's team, killing one of them on the spot. It was some high caliber kind of gun and it shot fast, really fast rate. He could see in between the grey cloud a lot of special guards taking cover and shooting at them with everything they had.

A Condor UAV fired an incendiary missile over the special guard, backing them off a little, but the Condor UAV got hit by a rocket and turned into a fire ball that crashed into the ground few instants latter.

"HURRY UP! WE ARE LOOSING AIRCRAFT REALLY FAST" Anatoly urged over the radio.

"Fucking bastards, eat this!" shouted Martinez starting the hell's fire gun.

The gun fired furiously, round after round at the guards positions, leaving a cloud of blood and mutilated soldiers scattered all over the stones. It kept pounding until a breach was opened for Martinez's team to move forward. They carefully but swiftly moved forward to block any escaping route for the target.

The Hell's fire turned on its back quickly. Around thirty soldiers, from the garrison bombardment, were trying to get into the rear of team two to surround them, their effort was stopped by the hell's fire station, forcing them to take cover.

"A PAIR OF COMBAT HELICOPTERS HEADING YOUR WAY!" the radio sounded outright alarmed.

"Rodger that!" Martinez responded.

"Where the fuck is Frank's team?" asked Martinez.

"Last time they were in the building, were received by heavy fire but got trough." responded Anatoly on the radio.

"TEAM, WE GOT THE FOOTBALL! repeat, we got the football, moving to escaping route, Martinez, cover our ass!!!" Frank shouted over the radio much to the relief of the team. It had been almost 15 minutes and casualties had mounted on both sides, Martinez's team had only eight men left, seven had been killed by the special guards, Frank's team had only five men left, they were ambushed at the entrance, losing many men there to the RPG fire.

"Use the north route, guys. I have two combat helicopters coming your way, move fast!!!"

"Hold on... correct, I have no helicopters, use the main route, repeat the helicopters retreated!" the radio said.

"What!?" said Martinez.

"Retreating!?"

Frank and Martinez' teams met on the designated point. From there, they would all escape north into the motorcycles to spread and escape as fast as possible from the place but the fire intensity was not diminishing as expected, special guards kept coming at them in spite of the constant UAVs bomb pounding. The complex now looked in ruins, a pile of burning concrete and steel parts, throwing black smoke into the air, spiraling into the clouds, a complete apocalyptic war scene like any other in Iraq or World War II Berlin.

"Is this the guy?" asked Martinez.

"Yes, let's get moving Martinez!" said Frank. The gunfire kept coming back and forth.

The teams were moving fast when a furious blast shocked the complex. One of Anatoly's Condor UAVs dropped a special bomb into the north wall, crumbling it, clearing the escaping route. The teams took advantage of the confusion created by the explosion to escape the complex with the target secured. Only few escaped, only eight made it, among them, Frank and Martinez. However, Martinez couldn't keep the pace, he had been wounded badly on the kidney by the explosion scrap, piercing his vest and his right kidney.

"Hurry, help Martinez!" Frank instructed two team members who reacted quickly, helping Martinez to get on a motorcycle.

"I'm ok, get out with the target!" he shouted. "Don't stay there looking! Move!" he urged.

The motorcycles separated, heading into different directions. Frank got Don Felipe and escaped successfully with him.

Many escaped to the near highways. Frank got lost in the city. He switched vehicles to avoid being detected.

Intriguingly, the team's escape went really easy. There was nobody following or chasing them as they left the Political intelligence complex in smoky ruins, along with hundreds of deceased or wounded special guard corps. The cost had been extremely high. However, most of the assault team had been lost. Many good willed teammates lost their lives, just like in the old times, when he saw many comrades down in the line of duty. War has never been easy. It will always bear a high, sometimes too high human cost.

Frank said a small prayer inside himself for his fallen comrades. It was then when he saw the target, Don Felipe, the Secretary for Internal Affairs complaining bitterly about the tie knots. Frank could tell he didn't give a shit for all the lives lost. 'Inhuman selfish prick!' He thought, and with anger, he hit Don Felipe's head with his gun. Don Felipe fell unconscious. How come we didn't kill you, at least not yet...

The phone rang again in the president's private wing. He was expecting it, like an anxious kid awaits his presents, so did President Martin Trujillo was expecting the results.

"General Ortega, any news?"

"Yes, Mister President, the assault's just finished." responded solemnly General Ortega.

"And?"

"They have Don Felipe, their assault was a success, but..." Ortega hesitated.

"Hmmm, very good..."

"We endured heavy casualties and material losses, Mr. President."

"Really?" asked the president, "how bad was it?"

"One hundred and twenty three special guards killed, forty three wounded and material loses in the dozen million so far..."

"WHAT THE F...! How many did you say performed the attack?"

"Only thirty, Mr. President, but with serious air support and fire power." General Ortega justified.

"There is one more thing, Mr. President." Ortega added shyly.

"What is it, General?"

"I'm afraid, we'll have to increase the security of the presidential house and its perimeters."

"Really... do you think so, General?..." President Trujillo threw the rhetorical question with sarcasm, humiliating General Ortega.

"... You'd better do it, General!!!"

73.

NEW YORK, USA

Lucia had been busy, refreshing her connections, making questions. A close friend of hers tipped her about some guy in the financial sector who used to work in Europe for secretive clients according to her contact. He would speak for money but jealously guarding his identity. He was keen on that.

The meeting was arranged swiftly, the tipster was avid for money, he was in a hurry or, at least, that's what he said. They had to meet in an under parking lot of a Manhattan building at 3:00 o'clock that day. Lucia arrived early to the appointment with the twenty thousand in five dollar bills, as requested.

Almost an hour went by and no signs of the tipster yet when her cell phone rang.

"Lucia, I'm afraid the contact won't show up" her contact indicated cautiously.

"Why?"

"He was found dead last night!" the voice sounded in a hurry, "He told me to tell you, it's in Geneva, Switzerland, they are the only ones who could have pulled off that kind of operation..."

"Give me a name, just a name please!" Lucia begged with frustration, knowing what it meant.

"Something terrible is about to happen, Lucia! The world's going to be shaken up. I'm sorry, they are getting close, I can't keep doing this, I'm leaving the country now, you should not be asking questions around, they will notice, they won't leave loose ends!"

The phone call was interrupted briskly.

"Shit!!!" Lucia smashed her cell phone on the floor in frustration.

They are planning something big!?... "I wonder what..." she said to herself...

74.

MEXICO CITY, MEXICO

Antonio's jet arrived directly from Madrid. He was in Mexico City again and he was in a hurry. Important matters required personal attention and things were getting out of control for him since Lucia escaped.

He needed to regroup fast, meet with his closest ally, Don Felipe Mendez, the flamboyant Secretary for Internal Affairs, number two man in the country and the next president, all thanks to him.

He needed to have a little chat with his informants, see how things were, how perceptions and rumors were running amongst the hallways of the Mexican government. Were they talking about political trial? Who sounded likely to succeed Martin Trujillo? What were the congress chambers planning to do?

He still had not managed to talk with his man Felipe for strange reasons. That worried him. The last time he tried to make contact, Felipe refused, alleging he was in an important meeting. He tried many times during the following two days, but nothing, as if the man had vanished into thin air. Antonio feared the worst, the damn fat man double crossing him. Impossible, he had no choice. Antonio and him had a good deal and, most of all, Antonio had a lot of bad stuff about him. The fat man was trapped.

He reviewed the press, nothing exceptional except for the lawsuit he planned, he provided with evidence, but there still was no sign of his man whereabouts. He started to feel fear, fear of things getting out of control. Joseph Gala had been clear to him in an strange twist of attitude from Joseph. He had to succeed or, otherwise, very bad things could happen. He was advised or threatened by the mysterious Joseph's partners, who treated him more like bosses than partners. Was Joseph somebody else's puppet?

The van flew over Mexico City avenues on its way to the Political Intelligence Office headquarters. He paid no attention to the landscape where the Popocatepetl volcano exhaled an everlasting breathe of ashes into the clouds that appeared to be inches away from the volcano snowed heights. He was browsing on his computer for details and reactions about the lawsuit, just announced in the U.S.A. As the van rushed, he would surely find Don Felipe in his offices, in the second most guarded complex in the country.

An hour had passed and the van was finally approaching the complex premises, just to make a shocking discovery.

Antonio lowered his sun glasses to take a better look, from the distance the complex seemed to have gone, a pile of crap had taken its place and it was still smoky. Ambulance and military helicopters had improvised a landing field, a huge military display surrounded the area. The army was securing the complex and its perimeters.

The van was called to a halt by small military platoon who had improvised a checkpoint. He noticed how soldiers looked expectant, in guard holding their large guns ready, two of them got in position as if they were covering from an imminent assault, ready to fire to the van and its passengers at the first provocation. A tense atmosphere could be felt in the air.

The sergeant approached the van, indicating the driver to stop the engine and come out of the vehicle. He was not kidding about it. The driver descended slowly from the van as indicated by the sergeant. The soldier told the rest of the passengers to remain inside the van quietly. Antonio could see from the inside how the driver and the sergeant talked. After a few minutes talking, the sergeant alone approached the van and opened Antonio's door.

"Who is Antonio Cazador?" he asked firmly.

"I am." Antonio responded.

"Please, get out of the vehicle, sir," indicated the soldier.

Antonio descended swiftly, cooperating with the soldier who had approached him.

"The driver, over there, tells me you are a personal friend of the Secretary for Internal Affairs, is that right?"

"Yes, we are close friends. I have an appointment with him, what happened? what is all this about?" asked Antonio somewhat worried.

"The secretary is missing after the gas explosion, sir. It's under current investigation so I ask you to leave at once. The area has been restricted by the high command" explained the soldier.

"A gas explosion you said?!" Antonio asked surprised.

"Yes, sir, haven't you heard me? Now turn around and leave the premises. Last warning" said the sergeant who was starting to lose his patience.

"Ok, all right, we'll leave." responded Antonio, making a gesture, indicating the van to return the way it came.

'Oh, Shit! I'm in deep trouble now!' Angst was starting to invade his body, he knew what that meant "SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!" he shouted frustrated as the van sprinted back to Mexico City.

His cell phone started to ring. He looked at it. It was Joseph Gala. He hesitated, a first call attempt went missing but the phone insisted a second and a third time, he picked the call in the fourth attempt.

"Antonio, is it true what happened to the secretary?" asked Joseph worried.

"It seems true Joseph. They said it was an explosion, I have been there, the site looks like a war zone!" explained Antonio.

"You silly bastard!" Joseph exploded.

"An armed commando kidnapped the Secretary!" Joseph explained, shouting over the phone.

"Calm down!" Antonio ordered. "What the heck are you talking about?" demanded Antonio.

"My people say he was kidnapped by an unknown party. We just lost him, Antonio! The whole plan is fucked now!" Joseph was in despair.

An uncomfortable silence occurred until a devastated Antonio broke it.

"What's next, Joseph?"

"We run, Antonio, leave Mexico as soon as you can. You are in danger there. It might be the Mexican government. If they have got Felipe, then they know everything about you."

75.

OUTSKIRTS OF MEXICO CITY, MEXICO

The place was almost dark, only a ray of sunlight crossed through the top roof's tubes. It seemed to be some kind of warehouse, he couldn't tell with precision, his senses barely started to return since he regained consciousness. He just woke up there, remembering a war zone, a heavy gunfire, people running and motorcycles but nothing else. He was lying on the cold ground of that place. There was almost nothing except for a hook, hanging from the roof, probably, used for meat as well as a car battery, some cables and knives organized on a metal table, meters away from him.

He called for help but nobody responded. About ten minutes passed when he started to hear footsteps, somebody was coming to him. There were two of them. He could see their boots, both were male and they seemed tough guys. Damn! He realized how bad his luck turned, he was about to be interrogated.

"Look Felipe, you know how this is, I imagine that as the Secretary for Internal Affairs you know something about the procedures your people use on their prisoners. It's a quite pervasive technique, let me tell you, a little bloody, but hey, that's just my opinion." said one of them while he helped Don Felipe stand up to take a seat on a metal chair.

"We have arranged something special for you, just to make you feel at home." the tough guy said with irony, pointing at the items around them.

"The whole package, Felipe, but... you might miss the opportunity to endure your people's techniques in your own flesh, yes... there is a way if you don't want to suffer the whole process."

"You will have to cooperate, tell us everything. You see, Felipe, we know you are a businessman, well, it's up to you, we can get the info we want the hard way. In the end you will talk, trust me, so... can you be a good businessman and cooperate?"

Don Felipe was frightened, he had never been in a situation like that, his life just passed among fancy places and food. He knew nothing about anything else. But he made sense and decided to talk, begging his captors to let him talk and spare him from the torture.

"I'll talk! I'm no fool, but please believe me, I will tell everything!" he cried, begging.

His captor smiled, 'Cowards! They are all the same, they are fast and swift to order killings and torture, pretending to be tough guys but, when faced with real danger, they cry like children, shameful beings. I almost regret not making him talk the hard way...' Frank thought, letting anger take him for a moment, but regained control fast, he had to get the info.

"So, Felipe, what's your relation with this man?" asked Frank, showing him a photo of Antonio Cazador.

"He is Spanish, he's a businessman with high connections, we had a deal, that's it!" responded Felipe, his voice trembled, scared.

"What's the deal, Felipe?"

"He would arrange the lawsuit and the case against president Trujillo, his connections in the Mexican government would choose me to replace president Trujillo once he steps down, ruined by the scandal. It was all going well until you came out of nowhere!" a bit of bitterness could be perceived in his tone. He regretted his sudden luck.

"Ok, and what were you supposed to give him in return?"

"Grant uranium mining concessions to the enterprises signaled by them, but most importantly, restart the uranium enrichment facilities and let their people handle it, that's it, I swear!"

'Jesus!' Frank thought,' that would mean war with the U.S. but who would win? It made no sense unless a bigger power stood behind it. He realized how dangerous and how far-reaching the whole matter really was... We might be stopping a world war!'

Obviously, the guy tied in front of him was scared to death and he was just plain stupid. Frank wondered how a guy like him could have ever reached an important position, so, he could not possible be the mastermind, he was a mere pawn in all this.

A dead pawn...

76.

ZACATECAS, MEXICO

The schedule was tight as usual, activities started at 7:00 a.m. with a security committee meeting, at 8:00 am breakfast with the Norwegian ambassador and at 9:00 am in office for dispatch until 12:00 afternoon, then, a presidential tour to the state of Zacatecas. The State Governor would be awaiting him at the airport for a small reception ceremony by 1:00pm. Then, both will board the presidential helicopter to reach the new university for the opening ceremony.

He would have to be back in Mexico City by 6:00pm for a scheduled phone call with the Mexican ambassador in Berlin for 10 minutes and, then, the most important meeting for the day, with his national security chiefs of staff meeting. The president's private secretary would have to attend with the president's legal advisors to address the lawsuit issue and the Mexican government response and course of action, options had to be carefully considered.

The army and police were in red alert since the assault in the political intelligence office building, a multi security corps special task force had been organized to track the secretary whereabouts and the perpetrators. Special garrisons and check points scattered along every path, every highway as the army had been deployed. All information related to the event had been withheld from the media. Secrecy was a must. Delicate national security situation was mentioned every time a newsman tried to gather info. The only ones squeezing their sources for info were the intelligence agencies.

The president's head security officer, General Ortega, suggested the president that he should cancel any tour for the time being, but the president decided to stick with his regular agenda to avoid frightening the general population, who was increasingly suspicious about recent events. The president had to show an image of strength and serenity, a business as usual attitude. For that reason he decided to keep the presidency operating as normal as possible.

It was minutes past 12:00 afternoon and the imposing Presidential Big 777 Special Mexican Air force jet had already taken off from the Chapultepec Air force base. The air plane was still elevating to reach the flight attitude of 12,000 feet.

The day was sunny and the sky clear, almost no wind and full visibility all the way to Zacatecas, the weather instruments indicated. The president would be landing some minutes ahead of schedule.

The presidential airplane escorts flew flanking the big jet as a usual procedure, air traffic on the president's plane had been deferred for protection as a usual procedure as well. The plane was almost reaching the desired flight altitude when the president took a look through his airplane window. He had never been much of a spectator, he was always busy dispatching even from the plane.

It was the sudden noise what caught his attention, the Mexican air force jet escort, on their right, broke into flames until a huge blaze swallowed it, he saw the pilot in the cabin before the plane was wrapped up in flames. Then, the jet was stopped in its tracks to start the free fall to the ground, a huge ball of fire and dark smoke precipitated to the hard ground of the Sierra Madre Mountains as a steam line of white smoke could be clearly seen, it came from the ground, the burned rocket fuel left a white trace that could be seen much to the panic of the flight crew.

The huge presidential plane made a sudden rough descent and turn, shaking the passengers, many of whom, were thrown on the floor surprised by the brisk movement. The plane was trying to outmaneuver a missile furiously aiming to destroy the plane. The pilots were quite expert, they were making the huge aircraft turn and maneuver like a small jet but the missile kept coming. The white devilish smoke traced like a lace being thrown at a bull in a Texan rodeo. It just kept tightening and tightening as the plane kept turning as much as it could, forcing the turbines to their limits.

Then, a second trail of smoke appeared, the deadly stockade to the bull. This one would hit the beast straight in the heart. The missile rammed the tail of the plane, smashing it into fire and pieces, the plane made a reflex 180 grades turn uncontrolled then to start its nose descent.

People were thrown by the loss of pressure into the sky to a certain death, but not the president. His seat was specially equipped and the seatbelt strong. He was thrown into the sky as well but with his seat, which protected him from a head hit in the brisk explosion.

The other jet fighter pilot couldn't believe his eyes as he saw the presidential airplane blow into pieces. Powerless and shocked, the pilot called base...

"Mayday, Mayday, Mayday!"

"This is nest, over."

"Sir... It's the president, sir..."

"Repeat, Eagle two. What is it? Over..."

"It's the president, the plane was hit!"

"Repeat, the presidential plane is down, the missiles came from the ground, the president is dead!"

Then, silence...

"Confirm, Bull One is down, initiate eagle protocol!"

"Bull One down, Confirmed!"

This time the news could not be hidden, after a twenty minute delay, the media, deployed at the Zacatecas airport for the president's arrival, went nuts. They talked to their colleagues in Mexico City. There was rumor among the military, the president was lost.

Meanwhile, a sinister phone call was taking place...

"Mister Chairman..." a deep, distorted voice pronounced over the phone.

"Yes, Vulcan?"

"It is done, sir."

"Excellent, good job, Vulcan!" The chairman then hung the phone and, satisfied, rubbed his ring.

77.

MEXICO

"Where is Lt. Martinez?" Frank questioned with exasperation but none of the men with him knew what to answer. He was supposed to be there already, they didn't have much time left to remain there.

Once they left the place, leaving the Secretary dead body behind, it would all go blank for Lt. Martinez. He would not find them again. He would be on his own. A bad sensation was crossing Frank. He had the feeling that something wrong had happened with Lt. Martinez and he was dead right. Just meters away from the abandoned warehouse, Martinez laid dead bleeding next to his crashed motorcycle. His wounds resulted lethal, he didn't make it. However, he died satisfied. The Dog had left all pain behind to meet his old friend, Salomon Hajji, in hell. He kept his promise to the very end with honor.

Now it was up to Frank to complete the mission, Antonio Cazador was next, and he had to hurry to get him as he probably was already in the run. He could not afford him to get away with it.

"What's he doing, Luis?" asked Frank over the radio.

"He's at the airport. He found out about Don Felipe. We'd better get him fast, he's about to fly!" Frank's man following Antonio responded.

"Stop him, Luis, you and the guys, whatever it takes, we are on our way!"

"Rodger that!, proceeding to engage!" Luis energized his three men.

The sound of the shotgun loading sounded inside the van as the four men team put their black masks and their gloves and pumped ready their shotguns. They would have to move quickly, execute swiftly and get the hell out of there as fast as possible to avoid capture.

They knew the Police would deploy the perimeter in the blocks around very fast. Their best chance to escape would be to ram the blockade while there were few regular patrol cars. Their van was big and 12 cylinder. It could easily throw a regular car away with its 2 ton metals.

But, foremost, they had to be out of the scene before the police special units arrive, their equipment and training was quite different from the regular police. They would not be able to outmatch such force. It would be a tough job to perform Antonio's kidnapping at the airport but they had to, if unable to capture him, then they would have to kill him on the spot.

They saw Antonio's van slow down and park momentarily at the airport private terminal, where the private flights could be boarded, the VIP terminal reserved only for the rich and their circle. The security was tight but still by amateurs, mostly armed guards but with no previous combat experience. However, Antonio's bodyguards could represent a different situation, their combat readiness was unknown. They would be engaged as professionals just as a precaution.

Antonio descended from the black van along with one of his bodyguards, the one commissioned to open the door. The team had to wait until Antonio was out of the van. They knew that, as long as he remained inside it, it could be like trying to dig a rat out of its little cave. It would take time and they cannot let that happen. The team van waited patiently and ready to ram Antonio's van from behind as soon as the rat left the hole.

Antonio's both feet landed on the terminal sidewalk. Instantly, the sound of a rumbling motor shocked before anybody managed to turn at it. The sound of a tough ramming scared the people there and disconcerted everybody around, even the security guards. The powerful back hit rammed Antonio's van, tossing it more than three meters to the front. The driver's neck was broken on the spot as he received the powerful crash completely unaware.

The team got down from the van, discharging a shotgun blow directly to Antonio's bodyguard, who fell dead on the ground. The airport guards were paralyzed by the fast paced violence, occurring at a lightning speed in front of their eyes.

Luis, picked up Antonio gripping his hair tight, lifting him painfully from the floor, where he was laid to take cover. The adrenaline rushed aggressively through the bloodstream of everyone involved, Antonio didn't complain, he was paralyzed by the adrenaline, Luis and the team were energized by it, the little difference between trained professionals and civil citizens, the response to adrenaline.

Luis tossed Antonio inside their van with violence. He was scared to death. He looked at his captors with the eyes of a surrounded prey almost begging for his life, a very different look from the one he had just months ago while he was planning to become the king of the world.

He was used to kidnapping and torturing but, this time, it was his turn and he was not being brave. He cried inside as the van rushed through the streets adjacent to the airport terminal.

The forced motor was reaching its limit, 12 turbo charged cylinder burning fuel at full speed, the van was humming like a wounded bull on its way to freedom, the suspension moved the passengers with violence as it took the wild turns at full speed, leaving the airport behind. Soon, a police car was spotted. It was sprinting towards them, trying to stop the beast but it looked small and weak. The small car with its flashing turret tried in vain to ambush the beast. It was rejected violently away the instant it tried to crash the van from the left back side. The car was fast but harmless to the van. It was left behind in seconds.

But there was a different animal aiming to catch the running beast and this one would not be taken out so easily. It was an armored pickup, with a modified motor and heavy as hell. It was getting dangerously close to the van. Luis saw it growing in the rear mirror.

It was all black. It was painted with the Republic Police logo and phrase. It had a police plate as well, but it was camouflaged. It was not the Police. Inside a small group of mercenaries prepared their weapons. Their target: kill Antonio Cazador.

When the vehicle got close enough to the escaping van, leaving behind most of the police except for the helicopter who followed them closely, the upper hatch of the pickup opened and, through it, a mercenary bearing a small missile launcher, much to the astonishment of the policemen in the helicopter who reported on the radio, the scene just to be informed the truck below them did not belonged to the police. But it was late to stop it, the missile had already been fired, crashed the van, tossing it in the air. The impacted van violently skated over the pavement until it stopped in smoke and flames. The armored van stopped inches away, and a man descended with a handgun. He got close to the van, bent over and saw the wounded, desperately trying to escape from the flames. He aimed his handgun at them, firing shots in cold blood to their heads, one after another until everybody was shot dead.

The assassin returned to the vehicle, who departed the scene calmly. A minute later, the van caught fire, it was quickly wrapped up in a huge blaze just seconds before exploding. The scene was shocking to the witnesses there.

Antonio Cazador was now dead by the chairman's orders, who had ordered leaving no one alive. No loose ends were to remain, canceling any possibility of following the evidence to him.

Only Joseph Gala managed to escape the chairman's men. He anticipated the chairman and left fast to a secret hideout seeking refugee from the chairman so when the chairman mercenaries broke into his mansion, they found nothing but an abandoned place.

Joseph Gala's whereabouts remained unknown as if the earth had swallowed him...

78.

MEXICO—NEW YORK

Frank left Mexico as planned, furious about what happened to Antonio and how they lost him to an unknown party, probably the very same that had tried to assassin President Trujillo the day before.

What angered him the most, perhaps, was the fact that the identity of the assassins remained a mystery, guns for hire no doubt but, hired by who? The question wouldn't leave Frank in peace nor Lucia and much less Robert and Peter.

Antonio and Felipe were both dead. President Trujillo escaped the attempted murder by sheer luck. The conspiracy seemed to be over. It was a triumph, their sacrifice spared the world from a sure conflict.

But questions remained unanswered, that made it bittersweet. Frank shrugged deep in his thinking as the lights of the docks of Orlando began to illuminate the cruiser ship. He would reach the U.S. the same way he did months ago. He never imagined back then, he would have passed through all of this, "Incredible" he said in a low voice, looking at the quiet ocean, sliding beneath the ship.

He lit a cigarette and sucked the smoke reluctantly letting it out. He saw the stars and a strange emotion filled him. He smiled, he was realizing slowly what had just happened in all its far implicating reach.

Frank smiled sincerely because he remembered the promise he had made months before to the kids in the refugee camp near Cancun. He fulfilled his promise and so did Robert.

He finished his cigarette and got into a small cafeteria on the ship for a quiet coffee. He grabbed the newspaper, the first time in a long while, and ordered an espresso. He saw gladly how his friend Robert, Jose Murgia and the rest of the witnesses smiled outside the court. The lawsuit had been accepted, they would see trial.

The demand was accepted the day before the U.N. Human Rights summit began. It caught worldwide media attention and the issue was discussed in the U.N. security council two months after who, by an overwhelming in favor voting ,decided to send a UN special human rights envoy to Mexico censuring President Martin Trujillo regime, casting over him a dark shadow of suspicion disgracing his political life and influence forever.

General Esteban Amaro, the head of the Political Intelligence Office operations, was formally accused of genocide by President Trujillo but mysteriously died in confinement while waiting for trial.

The Political Intelligence Office was dismembered and officially extinguished a year from the UN special Human Rights envoy arrival in Mexico. Hundreds of criminal probes were opened against former Political Intelligence Officers.

After his term in office, Martin Trujillo avoided criminal prosecution but was casted out of the Mexican social and political life into a shameful oblivion. His name became a synonym of corruption and repression.

Democratic elections were summoned under the United Nations supervision, a new president was elected in a free vote and took office, vowing never to return to oppression and granting the people freedom of speech and association, closing, in that way, a dark chapter in Mexican political life.

Jose Murgia and his family were granted asylum status by the US government and they settled down in New York City to start over again. Frank and Jose remained close friends...

Robert became a famous lawyer. He took several high profile cases on behalf of Peter Byron who, after a long but peaceful illness, retired leaving Robert in charge of the firm...

Lucia kept the investigation going. She left the U.S. shortly after Antonio's death, she and Robert kept in touch.

Frank started a small classical fire arms business in the Bronx. He also kept contact with Robert Higgins.

The wounds inflicted by the Martin Trujillo regime, slowly began to heal in Mexico, bringing peace and reconciliation among the people and there was freedom again...

A RAINY DAY THREE YEARS LATER...

PETER BYRON'S FUNERAL

"May God, our Lord, have mercy of his immortal soul!..." the Priest expressed solemnly as he sprinkled holy water under the sad glances and the dark umbrellas that surrounded him that rainy afternoon.

"We pray to you, dear Lord, begging for the eternal rest of our beloved brother Peter Byron who, at the end of his days, made peace with you, his maker and to whom you granted the true gift of forgiveness, May he be received in the kingdom of heaven as he left us his brothers on Earth. In true peace of spirit, we pray to you our Lord! Amen!"

The priest ended the praying as a group of friends prepared Peter Byron's body for his eternal rest in the grave. Women and children presented flowers under the sober look of the men who remained immerse in their thoughts, apparently cold in giving the last good bye to an old man, an old friend.

The thick rain quickly hurried the people to leave. The cemetery looked peaceful, the grey marble graves piled one after another, crosses, half moons and David stars culminated the last refugees, loving memories fixated on granite and marble contrasting with the vivid greenness of the grass as the mist and rain added an air of spirituality around it all.

Four lonely figures remained there, standing, just staring at Peter's last resting place, four figures stood there deep in their thoughts, saying good bye, remembering old times, times when they all saved two countries from oppression and fear, guided by the old man's good deed and wisdom, they felt a little like orphans without Peter around.

A thought, however, consoled Robert Higgins. Peter died in peace, after finding God's forgiveness that afternoon a week ago in his old house, surrounded by his beloved ones. It was a heart attack, Peter didn't feel a thing, he was already weakened to the bones by cancer, he reached for God in his last breathe, he died a free man as he always lived, that day, Robert was there, he understood what Peter accomplished, he smiled for his mentor and said farewell like old friends do...

"I'm sorry, Robert, I know how you cared for the old man." said Frank, sympathizing with Robert, slapping his back in sign of moral support.

"Thank you, Frank, I know you cared about him as well" said Robert.

"We all did Robert, Frank." Lucia intervened in the conversation.

"Lucia, I'm glad to see you. It's been a long time." said Frank.

"Yes, I haven't thanked you enough for what you did for my family!" said Jose Murgia.

"You know, we'll miss him..." said Robert with melancholy but then recovered as his glance showed inner strength. Then, added,

"The best way to honor him is to keep his mission going."

"Yeah!" they all said with enthusiasm.

"Well! Now team..." Robert said somewhat hesitant, then Frank interrupted.

"Yes, Robert, we are a team!" Lucia and Jose nodded.

"All right, team" said Robert, "Lucia has something to tell us."

Lucia stepped up "As you may know, I have been investigating who was behind the conspiracy we stopped" she explained.

"And?" asked Frank intrigued.

"Well, I have found something interesting, the man behind it all escaped to an undisclosed location just hours after the murder attempt on president Trujillo. Until recently, his whereabouts were unknown, he just committed a mistake, he is in Africa, I'm going after him" said Lucia gladly, her eyes widened and added,

"Who's coming with me?"

Frank hesitated. It was obvious Robert suspected something, Jose looked disconcerted, Frank took a seat on one of the chairs. Robert and Lucia looked at him, patiently, waiting.

"Frank, you have done a lot, risked a lot, it's fair for you to pass if you decide to stay here, Lucia and I can handle it, it's just a guy in Africa, no big deal" said Robert, trying to ease Frank.

"Damn, Robert! I was getting used to a normal life!" then Frank stopped,

"Well, it was kind of boring. Besides, you two cannot do anything well without me so... you are going to need a babysitter..."

A shade of red flushed on Lucia's checks, Robert felt uneasy but tolerant at Frank speaking nonsense. Lucia kept taking,

"All right, big guy, keep yourself together. Decide! Are you coming with us or are you some kind of big chicken?" expressed Lucia, Robert objected.

"Lucia, don't push him. He has to decide for himself."

"Robert," Lucia said seriously.

"The tough guy is coming, I'm kidding with him!"

"All right, yes, yes, I'm coming with you but, right now?" asked Frank, scratching his head.

"The plane departs in an hour, Frank." said Lucia.

"Wow, then, let's go"

Jose pressed Frank's shoulder "So you are really going?"

"Yes, Jose, it's been nice but..." explained Frank.

"Don't, I'll tell Maria, just be careful, my friend." added Jose with emotion.

"I will, my friend, we will return, you'll see!" Frank tried to cheer Jose up.

"Before you all go, my dear friends, I want to say thank you from the very bottom of my hear..."

Jose stopped to contain his emotion...

"VAYAN CON DIOS, AMIGOS!..."

And so Jose stood there, seeing the three figures walk until they got lost in the rainy horizon. He was all soaked up but he didn't care.

He stood there alone for an hour or so, thinking about how close and important he had become to the man buried in front of him. He was touched by the guys' sacrifice. He realized from the first time he saw Robert that he wouldn't let them down, it was something in the lawyer's eyes so reassuring...

... Heroes, Jose pronounced in a low voice then stood up and walked home. The walk seemed to have lasted for less than a minute even though it was more than a mile. He was deep in his thoughts like he used to be.

When he got home, the moment he crossed the door he fell powerless on his knees. He had tears of happiness in his eyes. He was looking at Maria and their son Jose. They were together as a family again. Maria approached him and asked sweetly,

"What is it, honey?" she asked, smiling with her deep black eyes and her warm glance.

"Nothing, my love... It's just that I remembered of a time when I thought I had lost you, I remembered how many times I walked alone in anguish fearing the worst..." Jose's voice was cracking deeply, touched with emotion,

"I never thought I would meet real heroes who saved my life!"

"God bless them, Jose!" "God bless them, Maria!"

Meanwhile, farther and farther away, an airplane rose upon the clouds, crossing the ocean where Frank was looking through the window, the image of Jose reuniting with his family came to him. He smiled gladly as sweet images invaded his head, then, a feeling of fulfillment...

'That's what it was all about... that's, in the end, what this is all about...!'

The plane crossed the clouds on its flight across the Atlantic ocean, getting closer after every minute to their destination,

It was dawning and Frank looked at the sunrise with new eyes, like never before...

—THE END—

About the Author

Johnny Delca (Juan Diego Del Castillo De Obeso) is a thirty-year-old Mexican law student with a geopolitically oriented mind. In addition, Johnny Delca has been a stock market enthusiast since he was ten. Aside from writing fantastic thriller novels, Johnny's passion is analyzing geopolitical trends that affect the world's financial markets. He develops comprehensive decision models for financial market investing.

This is Delca's first novel with more to come soon.

Contact the author at: valuemaster2003@yahoo.com

