Warriors in Paradise (20 page)

I could see Santi and my uncle clicking immediately. My uncle had always been a good judge of character.

My uncle said, “OK, let’s get down to business. Charlie has explained everything to me. We know very little about Nancy Smith except that she’s dirty and corrupt, and killing is second nature to her. I would like to talk to Toro and find out more about her. Charlie, you and Caleb will come with me to talk to Toro while Santi finds the smallest, ugliest room in the house. Clear out all the furniture and replace it with a desk, a lamp, a comfortable chair, and the most uncomfortable, sturdy chair that you can find.”

I said, “This way, Uncle.” I led the way to the service quarters, where my uncle talked to Toro for several minutes. Santi went his own way, and we met back in the living room at 4:45 a.m.

Nancy would be arriving before 5:30 a.m. As we were to appear to assume that it was her house, obviously she should be there before our agreed-upon arrival time.

We escorted Toro to his bedroom. There was a walk-in closet with a locked door. We asked Toro to open it up, which he did with a defeated sigh. There was cash and plastic bags with different types of traditional and new-age drugs.

After a quick look-see, we told Toro to choose his own clothing and allowed him to get dressed.

We asked the male servant to let Nancy in as he would normally do; he would then lead her to the living room, where Toro, Santi, and I would be waiting. As soon as she was in the room, Caleb and my uncle would take care of Nancy’s driver and bodyguards. If Nancy came into the living room with any of the bodyguards, Santi and I would take them down. To avoid any complications, Santi asked Ramon to be in the room to keep an eye on Mr. Toro. I placed the battery in Mr. Toro’s cell phone and turned it on.

My uncle was dressed in black. There were no black clothes that would fit Caleb, so we clothed him in black garbage bags held together with duct tape so he would blend in with the night. My uncle applied black shoe polish to his face and to Caleb’s to eliminate any shining from the facial skin.

Catching the Praying Mantis

It was 4:55 a.m.

We were ready for Nancy, the Praying Mantis.

My uncle said, “She will probably make Toro wait to let him know who’s the boss.”

Caleb and my uncle left the house and were instantly swallowed by the night.

At 5:08 a.m., Mr. Toro’s cell phone rang. Santi picked up the phone from the table, sat next to Toro, and grasped one of his arms. I sat next to him and took hold of his other arm. Santi gave him the phone and told him, “Speak to her as you would normally do, or you will be receiving her naked. Look at me! Tell me that you understand me.”

Mr. Toro, with a little more confidence than yesterday, looked at Santi and said, “I understand.”

Santi opened the phone and passed it on to him while placing his ear next to it.

Mr. Toro said, “
Hola, flaquita
. You’re running late.”

She answered, “You know how it is. A lady cannot be waking up at these ungodly hours! But don’t worry. I should be there in the next five to ten minutes.”

Mr. Toro answered, “Make it in five. You don’t want to cut it too close. The boys are arriving at five thirty.”

She said, “Anything I should be concerned about?”

Mr. Toro responded, “Nothing at all, nothing at all.”

She said, “See you later, alligator.” She hung up.

***

At 5:17 a.m., the intercom at the gate buzzed. Mr. Toro’s servant answered and opened the gates for Nancy Smith’s vehicle to enter the grounds. A couple of minutes later, we heard the entrance door opening. I was on the right of the living room entrance and Santi on the left. When Nancy entered, she would see Toro in front of her on the sofa, with Ramon standing behind to his right. We would be out of her line of sight. This would give us a brief advantage in case Nancy decided to show up with company.

Nancy walked into the living room, closely followed by two men in black suits. As the three of them entered, Santi and I took our guns out and closed the distance with the men in black.

I shouted, “FREEZE, YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!”

They reacted instantly. They pivoted left and right while drawing their guns. They were quick. We were quicker. We shot them in the head. They had not left us any other choice. Nancy drew a Beretta .32-caliber and shot Mr. Toro in the eye in one swift move. I hit her on the side of her head, and she slumped onto the floor, unconscious.

Ramon was looking at us with frightened eyes and said, “Ms. Smith shouted at Mr. Toro as she was shooting him, ‘You double-crossing piece of shit.’”

We had not heard anything because of the deafening noise of the Glock 19s.

***

My uncle and Caleb came running in and asked simultaneously, “What happened?”

I explained rapidly and asked, “What happened out there?”

My uncle responded, “She arrived with three bodyguards and the driver. One bodyguard stayed with the driver while these two came in with her. She came prepared for any contingency. The driver stayed in the car. The bodyguard stood outside, guarding the entrance door with his back to the wall. They were coordinated and well trained. The bodyguard at the entrance heard the shots inside and drew his gun while opening the door. Caleb broke his neck. At the same time the bodyguard was opening the door, the driver jumped out of the car with a gun in his hand. I slashed his throat with my knife.”

What carnage, I thought. The two bodyguards on the floor looked Mexican, but I was sure Americans had trained them. I sincerely hoped that they had been bad people.

Santi threw a glance at me and seemed to know what I was thinking, saying, “We had to take down these guys. They were criminals, just like their masters. Just look at their watches, suits, and shoes. No regular bodyguard could afford a thousand-dollar watch, a two-thousand-dollar suit, and three-hundred-dollar shoes. They had to be dirty.”

My uncle said, “Of course they were dirty. Do you think that Nancy Smith is going to come and see one of the biggest organized crime bosses in Mexico with marine guards from the American embassy? Of course not. She came here with her own trusted people in a nonembassy car.”

My uncle squatted next to Nancy, touched her neck, and said, “Her pulse is strong. She should be coming to very soon. Help me take her to the interrogation room.”

I scooped her in my arms and followed Santi to the interrogation room.

Talking to the Praying Mantis

The so-called interrogation room Santi had set up was a small storage area next to the kitchen, with dirty white walls and no windows. There was a metal desk with a lamp and an executive chair. In front of the desk, there was an old, weather-rusted, iron garden chair.

My uncle placed his large briefcase on the desk and asked us to undress Nancy. I held her up while Santi and Caleb removed her clothes.

My uncle opened his briefcase, grabbed a little package, and opened it. He put on latex gloves, saying to us, “Please bend her over.”

He then proceeded to stick a suppository up her anus, telling us, “This suppository contains a psychotropic drug to make her more compliant and to disorient her.”

We sat her down on the metal chair and taped her ankles to the chair legs and her wrists behind her back. The room was cold. She was utterly naked.

My uncle looked at us and said, “This woman is a very bad person, probably a sociopath. She has done unspeakable acts under the mantle of the American flag. She is not a patriot. Everything she has done, she has done for personal gain.

“She is a trained CIA operative, taught to withstand torture. Of course, even a trained spy eventually talks. However, we don’t have time. Speed is of the essence. We need to find your friends before it is too late. I am thus going to employ some mind games and chemicals. It is not going to be pretty, but it needs to be done. If you want to watch, you can stand behind her. But please don’t talk. Once in a while, I will nod, and you will slap her on the side of her head. Any questions?”

We were all silent. We knew what had to be done.

My uncle placed two cell phones on improvised bookstands and pointed them toward Nancy. He pressed the record buttons.

He was ready to begin.

***

He stood in front of Nancy, poured a glass of cold water over her, and slapped her, saying, “Come on, Nancy, wake up. We need to talk.”

She came to immediately. She blinked a few times and looked at my uncle and said, “I’m cold and I’m thirsty.”

My uncle walked around the desk, turned on the lamp, directed the light to her face, and sat down on the chair. He nodded at me. I took a step forward and slapped Nancy on the right side of her head.

Jonathan said, “Nancy, please don’t talk unless I ask you to. We are very unhappy with you. You are in a very serious situation. You have been using your position as an official of the United States government for your own personal gain. We have been investigating your activities for some time now. We know everything about you. Thanks to what happened in Acapulco, my office was finally given the green light to come after you. You haven’t heard of our agency, nor will you. Suffice to say that you are the lowest of lowlife, lower than a terrorist. The crimes that you have committed while working for our country go against everything we stand for in the world. You and your associates had to be stopped with extreme prejudice.

“I am going to ask you several questions. If at any point in the interrogation I believe that you’re not completely forthcoming, I will have to resort to chemicals that will probably affect you for the rest of your life. Whether I use the chemicals or not is entirely up to you. I have to do my job, and I intend to do it effectively.

“Are you ready, Nancy?”

Nancy looked at my uncle and said, “I’m cold and I’m thirsty.”

My uncle nodded. I took a step forward and slapped her on the side of the head again.

“Nancy, please answer my questions, and only my questions. If you answer correctly and truthfully, we will give you a blanket and a glass of water. Let me repeat myself: Are you ready, Nancy?”

Nancy said, “I’m cold and I’m thirsty.”

“What a pity that you insist on not going along. I would have liked to talk to you in a civilized manner because even though you are a criminal and a murderer, you’re still an American, and even though you disgust me, I have to respect that. But you don’t leave me any other choice.”

My uncle opened his briefcase. I could see several bottles, vials, syringes, test tubes, and medical instruments. There were plastic bags with pills of different colors: bright red, green, blue, yellow, and white. There were also plastic bags with white and brownish powder.

My uncle poured distilled water into a test tube. He ground a yellow and a red pill into a fine powder and scooped it into the test tube. As he was mixing the liquid, he said, “Nancy, do you know what this is?” Without waiting for her to answer, he said, “Let me tell you. It is Flunitrazepam, also known as Narcozep, Rohypnol, or, in the vernacular, simply roofies. Which I do believe you are familiar with, since a couple of days back you gave it to three Russians, two Mexicans, two Canadians, and two American citizens.

“Nancy, do you know what the red-and-yellow pills are? Of course you do! You’ve been helping a known drug lord, the head of a Mexican cartel, Nicanor Toro, to smuggle these designer drugs into the States for several years now, an endeavor that has made you a very, very wealthy person.

“Nancy, do you know what the effects of these drugs are when administered together? Perhaps you don’t, but I’m sure that you may guess. The Flunitrazepam will make you compliant, while the synthetic drugs will make you hyper and accelerate your metabolism, giving you an urgent need to talk, to communicate with people. One drug brings down the barriers of self-control, while the other one pushes up the need to talk and talk of anything. You are happy as long as you are talking. It becomes a matter of life or death. You cannot shut up.

“The problem is that this concoction has some serious long-term side effects. But then again, that is the risk of double-crossing your country, isn’t it? It is also the cost of not wanting to answer my questions in a truthful and forthcoming manner.”

He swirled the test tube, inserted the needle, and aspirated the liquid into the syringe. He stood up, walked to Nancy, and grabbed her arm. “No need to disinfect your arm. I know you are a clean and hygienic woman.”

Nancy looked at him and spit on his face. My uncle nodded, and I slapped her on the same side of her head. My uncle stuck the syringe needle into a vein in her arm and squeezed the liquid in. He removed the syringe and walked back behind the desk and sat on his chair.

“This should not take long,” he said.

In a couple of minutes, Nancy started to quiver compulsively and strained against the tapes. She peed and said laughingly, “Oops! Sorry about that. What is your name? Do you know that you are a good-looking man, in a nasty sort of way? Yes, all you Navy SEALs and special ops guys are full of yourselves. You think you’re divine shit. God’s gift to the world. You didn’t think I would recognize your type. I’ve been CIA for twelve years. I have seen your asses sway all over the place. Would you like to fuck? It is somewhat hot in here! Don’t you think so? Come on. Let’s have some sex. I’ll promise to be gentle with you.”