The Sand Trap (50 page)

“I hope you don’t plan to die soon
Senorita?” he politely exclaimed.

“These days in Mexico you could never be
sure!” she laughed.

This took half the morning and she headed
back to the course to get ready for the afternoon’s work on the
gardens. She checked to make sure the bikes were still covered and
safe and went back to the public dining room for a coffee.

Burt spent the morning cooking his mixture.
To do this he had to gently heat both substances separately to a
boil and bring them together for a low simmer for two hours. “I
should have been a chef,” he chuckled to himself as he gently
stirred the mixture. He was cooking a half-cup of the mixture even
though he only needed to dip the point of the needle in the liquid,
for no other reason than it was awkward to ‘cook’ smaller amounts.
It wasn’t hard to do and he had done it several times before. He
had to be cautious of two things of course. One was that he did not
inadvertently touch either the original insect toxin or the
mixture. It could be as deadly for him as for the intended victim.
The second was the disposal of the unused mixture. He couldn’t just
flush it down the toilet. That would result in a whole lot of
Roosterfish heart attacks over the next few weeks. Fortunately once
the mixture was cooked, it had a very short half-life and two hours
after cooking it became completely benign and can be thrown into
any garbage. Two hours would give him enough time to take care of
Jose and the left over material would be harmless by the time
anyone found it in his apartment.

By the time he was done it was noon and he
gently placed the ring with the dipped needle on a paper towel on
the kitchen counter. He wouldn’t put it on until just before he
went out to meet Jose. He had not slept for thirty hours now and he
poured himself another coffee. He had some pills the Agency
provided that were supposed to keep him functioning without sleep
but he would hold off on those as long as he could. They worked,
but the crash when you came off them was severe and he couldn’t
time things right now to ensure when that would be. He sat down at
his desk and reread the attachment Richard had sent outlining his
assignment. There was a brief explanation of why this person was
marked for death. It was a perfunctory explanation that Burt
figured they sent to agents like him so they would feel less guilt
about being a cold blooded murderer. Burt never needed the
explanation. Over the years he had come to trust the Agency, or
whomever it was, who decided this had to be done. In most instances
he had felt some satisfaction ending some of the lives. He supposed
that a psychologist would have some fun with that feeling, but even
in hindsight he felt the world was better without child
prostitution ring leaders, torturers, mass murderers, and in the
case today, a money launderer who supports a drug network that
kills thousands of Canadians a day. Because that was what Jose
Gorges did. He was the pipeline that all cartels in Mexico used to
turn filthy U.S. dollars into legitimate Mexican assets. He didn’t
deal in the drug trade himself, but without him, every cartel that
was currently killing each other off for more territory would have
no way to turn their profit into personal gain. Killing him would
disrupt the trade for months, maybe years. Because he had so many
people on his secret payroll, the problem for the authorities,
Mexican and U.S. alike, was that they could not prove he was not
just a successful maquiladora. If there was a hint that any
government agency had killed him, the cartel revenge on the police,
the Federales and other government agencies would be endless and
bloody. He was a perfect target for Burt’s special skills. The
connection to Maria was a serendipitous issue and simply compounded
the pleasure he would get in the elimination of this man.

He took the next hour to carefully pack a
knapsack of his special herbs and toxins that he would take with
him. He put the nine mm pistol that he had taken the night before,
along with a satellite phone and a map of the East Coast Road into
the knapsack and carried it down to the hidden bikes and put it
next to his bike under the tarp. He figured he would not be back to
his apartment before they left so he went to the dining room for
some lunch before his two pm lesson with Gorges.

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Maria noticed something was different as
soon as she approached the dining room area. The whole San Jose
area was not as busy in April as January and February and the golf
course and its dining room were no different. But today the place
was buzzing with activity. Serving staff were running in and out of
the dining area and Doug was hovering over them barking directions
and pushing people in different directions. As soon as she arrived
at the door of the dining room and met the three, armed bodyguards
she guessed what was going on. As soon as she walked into the room
her guess was substantiated.

The room was mostly empty except for one
table at the window overlooking the first hole of the golf course.
At the table there were only two people, Jose Gorges and a young
woman with a model figure and shimmering long blond hair who Maria
didn’t recognize. There were also another half dozen security
guards strategically positioned around the room. Maria’s gardening
outfit and a nod to the guards by Doug had allowed her to get past
the guards at the door and as she walked across the room to the
staff table in the far corner she felt the eyes of the guards
follow her every step. She glanced over at Gorges, but he was too
engaged in conversation with his companion to notice her. She felt
a spasm in the pit of her stomach as she caught the eye of one of
the guards. He had a bruise over the right side of his face where
Burt had hit him, and as their eyes met, he stared at her for a
moment and went over and whispered something to Gorges who looked
up. He smiled at her as he said something to the guard. The guard
came over to Maria.

“Mr. Gorges would like to talk to you,” he
ordered.

Maria looked over at Jose and smiling, he
beckoned her over with his head.

She smiled her warmest smile in return.
“Have a headache today you royal fuck up?” she asked the bruised
man.

The cold look in his eyes told her the
revenge he wanted. “I’ll deal with you later bitch. Right now he
wants to talk to you.”

To everyone’s surprise around her she
switched to English and announced loudly for all to hear. “Tell him
to fuck off. If he wants to talk to me he can find me right
here.”

The guard looked over at Gorges, puzzled at
the response. His face froze and he motioned the guard back to his
place and with one menacing look at Maria he moved away.

Gorges said something to the woman and
walked over to the table where Maria was sitting by herself. “Mind
if I join you?” he asked in English and sat down across from her
without an answer. “My men told me that you had a group of friends
with you at the casita last night. You into orgies now? Group sex
maybe? Sounds like fun. Maybe you could invite me next time?”

Maria laughed, suddenly realizing that the
four men sent to do the job last night would have to report they
were overpowered by superior odds and not a woman and a ghost who
none of them saw. Apparently no one had yet told him about her
relationship with Burt, so he still had the safety of anonymity
with Gorges and his people.

“Ah, you know what you say, Jose. You are as
good as any half dozen other people. That would be true of it
wasn’t for your extra small penis.”

“I make up for it with the size of my gun,”
he retorted. “You can’t say no to me Maria, blondie, or whoever you
are. You have nowhere to go and I own everyone here.” He waved
around the room.

“Why Jose?” she asked in a quiet and
pleading voice. “I saved your life.”

“It is just business Maria. It would be very
annoying and interfering in my business to be chased all over
Mexico by the Mendozas. Your headless body will clear the air.
Sooner is better, but tonight, next week, next month, you will
sacrifice your body for the good of my business. I own all of
Mexico so there is nowhere you can go. But I would appreciate it if
you did not kill anymore of my men. It’s not good for morale.
Francisco over there was quite embarrassed by last night and he
will want a special kind of revenge. His penis is quite a bit
larger that than mine.”

She stared him straight in the eyes. “Fuck
off Jose. You are a weak, evil man and an embarrassment to all
Mexicans. So just go and fuck yourself. Or her,” she nodded over to
girl at the table, “ if you have paid her enough.”

He paused and stared back and smiled,
shrugged his shoulders and stood up.

“Estas Muerto, Senorita,” he coldly
announced as he nodded to the guard Francisco and got up to walk
back to his table.

Maria sat quietly for a moment and thought
what to do next. As Burt said, she was probably safe as long as she
was around the crowds of the golf resort, but she had no allusions
about her safety when she left the public places.

Burt knew Gorges was in the dining room as
soon as he saw the guards at the door. He knew that neither of the
gang who attacked Maria last night had seen him, but it would not
take too much investigation for them to figure out he was the other
participant in last night’s fun. He was under no illusions as to
what would happen if he were recognized. He walked up the stairs
leading to the door of the dining room and started to go in, but
the guard at the door grabbed his elbow.

“Private function in there today. No entry,”
he ordered. “Go somewhere else for lunch today.”

“It’s OK,” Burt offered. “I work here.” He
tried to move past the guard but the man blocked his way and put
his hands on Burt’s chest to stop him.

“I don’t care who you are. You don’t eat
here today.”

Burt glanced over and saw Maria sitting at
the table where the staff ate and wondered how she avoided the
guard. They were probably on the lookout for her, so the guard’s
treatment of him like an ordinary citizen was a good thing. He saw
Doug approaching from the office at the back of the dining room. He
walked up to the guard. “It’s OK. You can let him in. I need to
introduce him to Mr. Gorges. Doug took Burt’s arm and started to
lead him over to a table where a middle aged Mexican was in deep
conversation with a very young and beautiful woman. “Sorry about
the guard; he is a very rich man and security needs to be tight.
Besides, he owns this golf course so what can we do?”

As they approached the table, the man looked
up and gave Doug a warm smile. Burt figured the man for his late
forties. He was tall, a little over six feet Burt guessed and
showing the paunch and blush of a wealthy life style. He had
classic Spanish good looks with black wavy hair and riveting green
eyes. Burt wondered again if he and Maria had been lovers. He
returned his look and Burt instantly felt the penetration of a
stare that was used to determining very quickly if this was a
person to kill, love, or work with.

“Mr. Gorges,” Doug offered, “This is Burt
Van Royan, the finest golf instructor in Mexico. People are coming
from all over the world to experience his instructional magic.”

Burt put out his hand and Gorges took it.
Burt wished now he had worn the ring, and held it for just a second
or two longer while he looked into Burt’s eyes.

“My pleasure Mr. Van Royan. If you can cure
my slice this afternoon you will indeed be a magician!”

They all laughed. Gorges continued and
motioned to Doug and Burt. “Won’t you join me and my companion for
a coffee? This is Helen Fiquentes, my personal assistant.” Burt and
Doug offered their hands to the lady and sat down opposite
Gorges.

“So, ” Gorges started, “you teach golf with
a hockey stick? And a broom or a mop?”

“I can see my fame has reached Mexico City.
I’m impressed!”

“Don’t be too flattered. I have my people
research thoroughly anyone who I am in contact with. How is your
knee coming along?”

Burt tried to hide his surprise. “Fine, the
sea air is very recuperative. As for my teaching, if you have
researched it you know I really only teach three things: set up;
balance and rhythm. The rest of the instructional stuff you read is
to sell golf magazines and make people watch the golf channel. And
yes, I will cure your slice for the rest of your life.”

“Very good! I have had many lessons, very
expensive ones everywhere in the world and no one has cured me yet
so I look forward to this afternoon! But tell me Mr. Van Royan,
what brings someone like you here to San Jose and the Puertos? You
should be teaching at La Quinta or some other fancy place? After
all you were a junior champion once.”