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Authors: James McCreath

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remained seated and silent in his blacked out dungeon.

“Lonnie, my two brothers are in the room with us now, and be forewarned,

they are armed with handguns equipped with silencers. If you make a move to

discard your blindfold, or if your answers are not honest and true, they will not

hesitate to use their weapons. Be careful what you say.”

Celeste spoke to the men in French for a few seconds, then there was

silence. Lonnie could once again feel movement in the room, adjacent the couch

where he sat.
Are they circling their prey for the kill?
he thought. The blindfolded

visitor was surprised at how soft and articulate the voice was that finally broke

the silence.

“Señor Lonfranco Ernesto De Seta, it is a pleasure to finally meet your

acquaintance. I apologize for the necessity of the blindfold, however. One can

not be too careful in these times. I am Serge Lavalle. No doubt Celeste has told

you a bit about my brother and me. Jean Pierre is here in the room with us as

well, but I will be the only one addressing you this afternoon.

“Celeste has apparently had quite an effect on your political philosophy,

Señor De Seta. She has told us that you are ready and willing to try to make a

difference in our beloved country’s political future. Frankly, I am surprised that

you would risk your considerable fortune to attain martyrdom, for make no

mistake, Señor, that is the only place our actions will lead us. It is only through

our actions and our blood that Argentina will achieve its true destiny. A nation

where all people share equally in the bounty of our great and prosperous land.

Not just the wealthy, the military, the corrupt, but all the people! That is

the way our great leader and founder, Juan Domingo Perón would have made

Argentina forever, had not certain satanic forces worked to promote his downfall

and ultimate death.

“The three of us are Montoneros, Señor De Seta, and as such, there are

death warrants on our heads. Each of us, even Celeste, has killed for the cause,

and it is precisely what we expect of you as well. These are not childrens’s

games we play, Señor. We have had two brothers killed already in our fight

for justice. It is their martyrdom that makes us relentless in the pursuit of our

goal. Nothing will stop us. Not even the bullets of the government lackeys.”

128

RENALDO

Lonnie sat listening intently to every word that Serge Lavalle said. He was

given a lecture on the history of the Montonero movement, the greatness of

Juan Domingo Perón, the diabolical corruptness of the succession of leaders that

vowed to remove Perónism from Argentina’s political structure, and a forecast

on just how the rebel organizations would one day band together and realize

that Perónism was the only true form of political freedom for the people of

Argentina. Lavalle spoke with a passion and insight that had reminded Lonnie

of his first private political debates with Celeste. It had been necessary for her

to be extremely guarded in her statements then, but Lonnie could now see the

same political undertone running through Serge’s monologue.

What it all came down to was the use of force, extortion, murder, and

widespread civil disobedience as a way of showing the general populous that

the current political and economic situation was bankrupting the country,

benefiting only those at the very top of the hierarchy.

Inflation had reached astronomical proportions in the last few years,

well over three hundred percent per annum at times, and the current junta

had removed protective tariffs on imported goods, flooding the local markets

with cheap imports and driving many local manufacturers to bankruptcy. The

offshoot of this economic policy was that more workers were unemployed,

reducing their influence as a political force. Cattle and grain had, once again,

become the only real exports of value to the Argentine economy. As such, it

was the members of the old oligarchy friendly to the junta that prospered the

most.

Serge Lavalle rhymed off several of the past holdings of De Seta

International SA, making it clear to Lonnie that this man knew a lot more

about the De Setas than he had ever expected. It was also made clear to Lonnie

that the Montoneros included his family as part of the same oligarchy that was

profiting the most under the current economic climate. It was becoming very

clear to Lonnie why he would be such a prized disciple of the Montonero cause

if he were allowed to join them. He was, as Celeste had told him, everything

she had grown to despise about the current political landscape. Her coup had

been recruiting and transforming an oligarchist into a populist. The fact that

her ex-student was in love with her had certainly made the job easier.

Celeste had never used the term ‘Montonero’ in any of her discussions with

Lonnie, whether in private or publicly in her tutorials. She had only referred to

the subversives as ‘revolutionaries.’ Even so, Lonnie was well aware of the violent

and chaotic events for which this particular cadre of ‘revolutionaries’ had been

responsible.

Over the past twenty years, hundreds of people, from high-ranking

government and military officials to local police and judicial authorities had

felt the wrath of these cold-blooded killers. Innocent people often got in the

129

JAMES McCREATH

way of their murderous schemes, and the outrage of the general populous

against the continuing terror tactics of the Montoneros caused ruling military

powers to not just react, but to overreact. Pitched military battles combined

with sweeping arrests of anyone with mildly leftist views had wiped out all but

the best organized and most secretive of the ‘revolutionary’ cadres by 1977.

The Marxist E.R.P., or People’s Revolutionary Army, had lost their

charismatic leader Mario Roberto Santucho in a wild gun battle in July of

1976. The military junta that had deposed Juan Perón’s widow, Maria Estela

Martinez De Perón, from the presidency four months before Santucho’s death

proclaimed that they would stop the terrorism through a policy known as ‘the

PRN’ or the Process of National Reorganization.

In reality, the PRN was nothing more than a thinly veiled antiterrorist

guise that allowed the junta to revoke virtually all civil liberties throughout the

entire country. They even encouraged the formation of their own antiterrorist

guerrilla group, a ruthless band of right-wing cutthroats called ‘the A.A.A.’ or

the Argentine Anti-Communist Alliance. It was little wonder that present-day

Buenos Aires often resembled a town right out of the American Wild West.

Exactly who was responsible for the latest bombing, kidnapping, or shootout

was often never resolved. Suffice it to say that many a cowboy died with his

boots on in the name of whatever cause held his favor at the time.

The Lavalles must have been both smart and lucky to still be alive in

December of 1977. The blindfold around Lonnie’s head could attest to their

caution, and Serge’s lecture on the political forces of the day was only the

precursor of many tests that Lonnie would be forced to endure before they

would trust him as one of their revolutionary brothers.

After what seemed like an eternity of sitting and listening in his dark

obscurity, Lonnie was finally asked his first question. He welcomed a chance

to respond.

“So you see, Lonnie, our life is not one of glamour, fame, and material

riches. Rather, it consists of hatred, infamy, and at times, scurrilous poverty.

Quite different than what you have been used to up to now. You will have to

work very hard to convince us that you won’t go running to the authorities to

turn us in and save your own neck at the first sign of trouble.

“We will give Celeste two weeks to teach you, to indoctrinate you,

to brainwash you into our way of life. Be assured that you will be watched

constantly during that time. Know this as well. As of this meeting, there is no

escaping from our grasp, except by man’s ultimate destiny. Do not disappoint

us, Lonnie, for we have great plans for you. Do not disappoint Celeste in

particular, for I know that her plans for you are of a more, shall I say, exacting

and intimate nature than Jean Pierre and I had in mind. You have stepped over

the line by coming here today, Lonnie, and there is no stepping back. Now

130

RENALDO

tell me, are you man enough to not only survive, but thrive in the heat of this

political cauldron you have just plunged yourself into?”

Lonnie sat motionless for several seconds, the thoughts swirling through

the rapids of his mind. When the words came, they were from his heart.

“All my life, I have been seeking a way to express myself. For a long time,

I thought that sports was the perfect outlet for the hostility that I felt inside.

But after my father died when I was eleven, throttling a weaker opponent was

no longer the thrill that it had once been. The questions that I needed answered

were still rattling around in my head. I had so much hatred trapped inside me.

Where it came from, I still, to this day, do not know. It is still there though, I

can assure you of that!

“The rage that I felt the other day when I thought that Celeste was seeing

another man, I would have killed anyone who I had found in here, perhaps even

you and your brother. Celeste has changed me, though. She has made my mind

work for the first time in my life. She has opened my eyes to many, many things

that were always there to see, but I was too ignorant to notice them.

“I will be honest with you. I cannot say for certain that the political

doctrines that you espouse are the best ones for Argentina or even for me,

personally. But I do know this. As far as I am concerned, my life before I met

Celeste was going nowhere. My mother wants me to become a lawyer and run

the family business. She is sentencing me to a necktie and business suit for the

rest of my life. I would most likely assault the first advocate that disagreed

with me in court, and end up a defendant instead of an attorney. I am in love

with your sister. That I know to the bottom of my heart. There is nothing else

in this world that matters to me now. Celeste is my future. Do with me what

you will, as long as I can fight by her side, I will follow her anywhere and do

your bidding.”

Once again there was silence, broken only when Celeste finally spoke to

her brothers in French. It was a language that Lonnie had discarded from his

studies early in high school. At this moment, he wished that he had pursued it

further. There was movement in the room again, sounds of items being stuffed

into haversacks perhaps, then farewell embraces and the traditional two-

cheeked kiss. Certain words he remembered, au revoir, bonne chance, good-

bye, and good luck. Again it was Serge that addressed him directly.

“My brother and I must be leaving now, Lonnie, but we will meet again,

you may be certain of that. You have a lot of work to do, and I hope that you

have listened carefully to my dissertation. Celeste will guide you from this

moment on, and she has specific orders that you must follow exactly as she

says. Do not disappoint us, Lonnie, or this will be your fate. Adieu, ’til we meet

again.”

131

JAMES McCREATH

As Serge’s last word hung in the darkness, something landed in Lonnie’s

lap. He grasped the object in his hand, and there was no mistaking its identity.

It was a bullet, quite a large caliber judging by its length and weight. He could

hear the door open, then close quickly. They were obviously gone, for there was

silence in the room once again. Where was Celeste? Had she gone with them?

A great temptation to tear off the blindfold and race after the two brothers,

just to get a glimpse of them, had to be resisted. He was amazed at how much

he really wanted their approval, to be one of them, to be with Celeste. He sat

motionless on the couch, waiting. After a considerable amount of time, Lonnie

was startled to feel her soft hands deftly undoing the knot in the scarf. She did

not speak.

It took several seconds for Lonnie’s eyes to adjust to the afternoon sunlight

that still managed to find its way through the drawn curtains. When his eyes

finally focused, she was standing in front of him.
How beautiful she is
, were his

first thoughts.

“I will give you one opportunity to leave and never say a word about this

meeting and never set eyes on me again. I lured you here today under false

pretenses, I know that. I want your mind, not your erection, to make your final

decision as to what you will do. There is the door, walk through it now and you

can go back to the world you are used to. Stay here in this room, and you will

never be able to return. I have to use the toilet. If you are still here when I get

back, we can get to work. If you are not, well, you’ve been a great fuck.” She

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