Redemption (36 page)

They parked in a semi-circle and cut the engines. Silence fell. They were in the middle of nowhere, the middle of the night. No matter where he looked, Namara saw nothing but darkness. Eduardo’s men let the headlights glow so they could see what they were doing as they built a huge wood fire together. The fire crackled merrily as the flames grew, an orange inferno against the dark sky. Ed switched on a truck radio and western Mexican music drifted out. It was apparently a popular song; the men exclaimed their approval.

“What’s this?” asked Guerra.

“
Narcocorrido
! ‘Narco-music’. Traffickers record music…”

“I didn’t know the traffickers here were artists too?”

“Great artists, some of them. They’re financed by cartels. They sing about our lifestyle. It’s good recruiting material, very popular among the young ones.”

“Like they say, you can’t stop progress,” said Guerra.

“Exactly.”

“The police allow it?”

“What police? The police belong to the cartels. The only real power in Mexico is the drug!”

“Pity the US doesn’t think the same way.”

“Mexico’s a promised land for traffickers. Any man who wants to can make money. Anything’s allowed for intelligent types. Time to eat, here, try it!”

Bobby held out a steaming plate of rice, roast meat, and black beans, topped with a tortilla. The tequila flowed freely with the music. The men ate.
This could be kinda fun, under other circumstances.
Namara dug into his plate. Suddenly, a rattling sound distracted them from their food. Bobby pulled out a machete and whispered, “Don’t move, there’s a viper somewhere!”

Suddenly, he slashed the ground and separated the snake’s head from its body. He threw the dead reptile into the fire, where it burned gently on the crackling logs, and returned to his plate.

“You know, Rick… this place is paradise for a man looking for riches. I believe I understand that you’re here to do just that, aren’t you?” asked Ed.

“It’s true. Like you said, the drug is the only power here, and I’m a trafficker… so there!” said Namara, taking a shot of tequila.

“Yes, the drug is the power. There’s a war raging between the different cartels for the control of it. For years, business has been becoming more difficult than ever, and riskier. I’m almost died a hundred times. The dealers and distributers like us are making less and less profit, so we must be greedier, which means taking more risks.”

“Is that why you opened a bar?” asked Namara with false-ignorance.

“Yeah, for the most part. Like I said, this place is full of opportunity!”

“You mean pimping?”

“Sort of. You know, all the young traffickers are looking to conquer the territory to make profit with drugs. They have a money mill right in front of their faces and they just don’t see it. Less risk too, than with drugs.”

“Women,” retorted Namara.

“Exactly! Women. They’re everywhere here, and they bring more money than you could hope for.”

“Yes, for a bar owner like yourself, you have a great pool of girls to chose from, I take it.”

The fire reflected in Ed’s black eyes and the other men’s ears pearked up to listen in on the conversation.

“I saw what you got today with Léa. I admire your strength, to have corrected her without hesitation. I still have a few doubts as to your ability to do a certain work we all do. You know, you need a particular state of mind to exploit the market as we have. All the men here as well as I have one thing in common. Maybe you have it too…”

“What exactly do you mean?”

“What do you know about what’s happening with San Matanza and its women?”

“Nothing in particular. Arthur and I aren’t exactly the newspaper-reading type. What should we know?”

“Women and children have been disappearing here for years, and nobody has found any suspects. Some were found raped and murdered, so say the newspapers.”

“I wasn’t aware. Are you in on it?”

Ed grinned and stared into the fire for a few seconds. Then, his black eyes turned on them afresh.

“Maybe... does it bother you?”

“I’m a businessman. Is it profitable?”

“Of course! You see, the people here have been on edge since we began our business. We need to watch who we talk to, and pay attention to people who would take us out. Up until now, nobody’s succeeded in spreading anything but confusion because we’ve been cautious. But you, you came far, you’re not from here, and you’re not up to date with the current situation, at least until now. Nobody would suspect you, and more than that, you’re guaranteed to be trustworthy – no risk of you being a family member trying to get revenge or expose us. We need help, because there aren’t many of us, and the demand only grows. The only problem is that we can’t trust anyone. We’re a little trapped. Shall I go on?”

“Of course! If it makes us money, we’re on board,” said Guerra.

“Ok, but I don’t want your conscience to put us at risk…”

“Please. They’re only bitches,” retorted Namara.

“That’s what I want to hear! They’re a source of revenue and amusement. Of course, some don’t share our view.”

“I’m not one of them,” said Namara.

“Good... good.”

“How many women have you done in? What did you do with them?”

“Hundreds, I would say, but you know… look around you… There’s as many as you would want. And the demand grows.”

“Aren’t the police after you?”

Ed laughed again.

“We know who to talk to so that the police close their eyes, you know. Money is an excellent means of persuasion. It’s all in the way you see things. We have contacts and eyes everywhere.”

“It’s interesting, but to what end?”

“Why? You want to join us?”

“Why? Is that an offer?”

“Maybe!” said Ed with a smile.

“If it is, maybe we would say ‘yes’.”

Ed glanced at his men, and then looked down in reflection.

“Very well. Here’s how it works. We go in groups of three. We track them in a car. There’s the driver, the one that does the grab, and another for backup. They’re all dirt poor. Nobody does anything to search for them, and their families don’t have the means to do their own research or investigation. The desert plains are the best place to hide and plenty of girls walk home from their jobs late at night. So, every girl takes about five to ten thousand dollars. She has to be young and pretty. The younger she is, the easier to grab. For the kids, twenty thousand each. And we pay ourselves well. We profit from our work ourselves. It happens that we save certain girls for our own amusement. We’d be crazy not to, if you see what I’m saying,” he said with a diabolical grin.

“Of course!” said Namara, trying to mimic Ed’s grin.

“We’re a united group with our own rules and beliefs. We do the work of the Devil himself. We disseminate his power and get rich off it. We’ve reigned over San Matanza for a decade. They all fear us. We are their worst fears and while they tremble, we have free will to live out our wildest fantasies!”

“Wait, you’re Satanists?”

“The best there are.”

“When you say demand is growing, what do you mean?”
“The business went far, Rick. The network stretches through all levels of society and we have clients everywhere! We’re the gods who procure the merchandise, but it goes much, much higher than us.”

“How does the network function?”

“For us, it’s easy. The girls we kidnap are well guarded in a building we built for this purpose. Most of our girls are sent to the other side of the American border and taken into the charge of Father Gregor. He pays us what he owes and he, on his own side, resells them to rich Americans that want to live out their most sadistic fantasies, I imagine. The kids are sent south of San Matanza. Our work stops there!”

“Where do you keep them?”

Ed smiled and winked. “It’s a secret. I have to keep
some
secrets from you. In time, my friend…”

“I look forward to it. So when do we start?”

“When the time is right. We’re ritualists. We take into account certain elements before hunting down prey. Maybe you’d find it silly, but we have our beliefs, and they’re very important.”

“There’s no problem when there’s money.”

“Don’t worry about money, brother! You’re going to have more than you’d ever dreamed of!”

“We’re with you!” whopped Guerra.

“Wonderful. A toast: welcome to our brotherhood!” said Ed.

“Got the tequila right here,” said Guerra with the bottle in his hand.

“Not tequila this time.”

Eduardo pulled a bottle of absinthe and poured two glasses. The liquid shone turquoise. He held out a glass to each of them.

“It’s beautiful,” said Guerra of the colour.

“It’s the symbol of God’s creation. The full glass is our universe, our Earth.”

“Cute,” said Namara, getting ready to drink.

“No, wait! It’s missing one small detail.”

Ed drew a dagger and signed to them both to extend their hands. With a slash, he made two surface wounds into their hand. He squeezed a few drops into their glasses. Purple overtook the turquoise. He squeezed until the colour satisfied him.

“That’s better. Purple is our colour. With our contribution – our blood – we help to shape the world as we wish it to spread the forces of darkness. Now, drink!”

Guerra and Namara took a hesitant gulp from the little glasses.

“Welcome within the Devils of the Desert, my brothers!” said Ed grandly. The other men whistled and clapped.

CHAPTER 56

South Beach, Miami, USA.

“Kamilia, this places is
incredible
,” breathed Ming Mei as she took in the extravagance behind the doors of their nightclub.

“Thanks. I’m quite pleased with the result, but it’s still empty. Tonight, it’ll be packed, completely different ambiance. How was your flight?”

“Perfectly fine. It feels good to be back in civilization. I’m done with Mexican sand,” grumbled Guerra, who had come in from a run along the beach. His shorts and shirt gave him a completely different air than usual.

“Tonight’s going to do us good, clear our heads,” said Namara, who had returned from Mexico several hours ago, and who was sitting at a table on the ground floor next to the huge dance floor where hundreds of people would stand in a few hours.

Shinsaku commented on the miniature trees along the walls and the floor-to-ceiling white drapes that undulated in the air currents, giving the whole space a surreal vibe.

“I’m glad you like it, Shinsaku. The rounded doors with the drapes and trees are zen-inspired, but you’ll get the full effect tonight with the lighting,” she replied, pleased.

“What’s behind those tinted panes overhanging the dance floor?” asked Namara, pointing to the elevated windows.

“Oh, I forgot to show you! It’s an office that gives us a full view of the floor. You see, the view’s amazing,” she said, sitting on a chair.

“So it’s going to be a zoo tonight?” asked Guerra.

“Hundreds and hundreds. Media, celebrities, the Miami elite, they’ll all be here. Get ready, there’s been tons of buzz for a while now. We’re the toast of Miami!” Kamilia raised her arms excitedly, the tattoos visible in her black blouse. Guerra strolled to the bar and seized the two kalis from the counter.

“What are these doing here?”

“I practice a bit when I have a few minutes to myself.”

“I see.”

Smiling, he began to spin the batons clumsily. He started to deliver strikes to the air in all directions, which exasperated Kamilia, who raised her eyes to the ceiling.

  “Would you put my kalis back where they were!?” cried Kamilia.

James was delighted that he’d got a rise out of her and was in no way going to stop.

“Hello, I’m Kamilia! Don’t come any closer unless you want this stick up your ass!” he said in a shrill falsetto, infuriating her further.

  He retreated as he continued thrusting and jabbing without noticing that he was getting closer to the wall. With a
snap
, he sent one of the little tree branches flailing. A cloud of green leaves exploded into the air. The tree was all but bald.  His eyes widened and he froze, paralyzed with fear, as leaves littered the ground one by one.

“You bloody ingrate! My tree!” cried Kamilia.

“I didn’t see it,” he tried, visibly nervous.

“You bastard! I just bought it, and the opening’s tonight! Put the kali’s down and don’t touch another damn thing!”

Namara guffawed in his chair to see Guerra taking Kamilia’s lecture like a reprimanded child.

“Bravo, James, you’ve outdone yourself once again! Obviously your genetic code just skipped over the ‘grace’ and ‘refinement’ bits,” added Ming Mei.

“I’m sorry, Ming Mei, but you’ve got it wrong,” he retorted, switching on the radio behind the counter. A pop song filled the bar and James climbed onto his table to inch his waistband below his pearly white buttocks. He danced languidly in circles. Shinsaku whistled and Namara was wracked with silent laughter, incapable of doing anything but wiping away tears and holding his stomach.

“You’re going to regret those words, Mingy! If I launch myself into the erotic dance industry, you’ll be finished!” shouted James, doing the robot.

“Disgusting,” sighed Ming Mei, rolling her eyes.

“The horror! I need some air,” retorted Kamilia, whose face was red with frustration.

Ming Mei followed her out. Namara was still dying with mirth on his chair and Shinsaku, grinning, fished out a ten-dollar bill to offer to James.

“Stop! Please! I’m gonna die,” Namara pleaded, completely out of breath.

Guerra descended from the table, ass in the air, and switched off the radio.

CHAPTER 57

The immense yellow-and-gold neon dragon lit up for the first time on the façade over Ocean Drive. The
Redemption
sign, on which giant letters glowed like stars, descended vertically beside the illuminated dragon. A huge line of partiers snaked out from the interior along the flashes of so many cameras and luxury cars that scrolled by. An ice sculpture of a dragon stood several meters from the entrance bored no-one with its poise. Hundreds of people still were packed indoors and the ambiance was feverish. It was feasting and glamour on opening night where armies of wait staff swarmed everywhere to serve the clients. Fire-breathers in angry
Tengu
masks were posted all over the dance floor on elevated platforms. They spat long jets of fire intermittently over the heads of the thronging mass that moved as one in the thumping music.