'They killed him. That cartel. They killed them all. John Ed, Pedro, Rosita… all the animals, too. Except the lion.'
Manuel Moreno sat before a campfire on the Johnson ranch in the Davis Mountains. He was cooking breakfast. He had lived on the land for almost five months now, since the governor shot Jesus and the others that day. The gringos assumed he would make a run for the border, but he did not. He hid out on the ranch, and here he had been ever since.
Waiting.
He was promised much money for assisting the cartel with the marijuana farm. But the girl had attempted an escape the same day the governor had come out to hunt for the African lion; their fates had aligned that day. First harvest was only weeks away; Manuel's money was within his grasp, only to go up in smoke. The gringos burned the plants. And his future. He had watched the fire from the distance.
And felt the anger rise within him.
He had planned to take the money and go farther north, to buy land in Montana, perhaps, and to live the American Dream. But his American dream had been stolen from him by the gringos. Each day the anger grew. He watched as the Anglos came to the ranch and paid much money to kill Senor John Ed's game animals. He watched as Senor John Ed drove around the ranch in the Hummer as if he were a king. He watched through binoculars as Senor John Ed climbed on top of Rosita each night.
And the anger grew stronger.
Two days ago, the anger won out. Manuel had taken the AK-47 that Jesus had given him and gone to the lodge. He had walked inside at dinner time, when he knew Senor John Ed would be in the dining room and Rosita would be serving him food and Pedro would be pouring his bourbon. He killed them all. Then he killed every animal he found. He had never before eaten antelope, but it was quite good, especially when mixed with beans and wrapped in a tortilla, as he was now preparing. Manuel felt a presence and turned his head just in time to see the lion's jaws spread wide as the beast lunged at him. He felt the lion's mouth take his head and then the sharp teeth puncturing his face and skull. He dropped the tortilla.
Congressman Delgado rolled the flour tortilla filled with migas and salsa and took a big bite. Jesse sipped coffee. They were at Luis Escalera's cafe for Sunday breakfast. Jesse had heard that the congressman was in town that weekend; he had called his office and asked to meet with him.
'Are you troubled, Jesse?'
'Yes.'
'Is it about the governor's wife?'
Lindsay had told Jesse that Congressman Delgado had recognized her at the Cinco de Mayo festival.
'She is not my trouble.'
'Perhaps not yet. So what is now your trouble and how may I help you?'
'Mayor Gutierrez and his Mexican Mafia want me to run for governor.'
The congressman leaned back in his chair. 'I have heard this. Jorge called me and asked me to intervene with you. I said I would not.'
'Why?'
'Because the decision to run for public office, to become a politician, is not made by committee or coercion. It is made in one's heart. A man must have the drive and the ambition and the heart to make a life of politics. You must make your own decision.'
'What is your advice? Should I run?'
'No.'
'Why do you say that?'
'Because your heart is here, on the border, with these poor people. You save lives every day in your clinic. Forty-five years, I have yet to save anyone in Congress.'
'But you do much good.'
'No. I do little good. Politics is no longer about good or bad, right or wrong… it is only about red and blue, winning and losing, profits and losses. Money. Some men are wired for politics and money, most are not. You are not. You are wired for love and hope. You love this land, and you hope for the people. Your heart is here, Jesse Rincon. Not in the Governor's Mansion.'
Just a mile south of where the congressman now sat, Enrique de la Garza spoke on the phone with Hector Garcia in Austin.
'The wrong ranch?'
'Yes.'
'How many did you kill?'
'Five.'
Enrique sighed.
'I will pray for their souls. But why did you not shoot the governor during his speech? On national TV?'
'I was there, jefe, but I could not get into the building. Security was very tight. I was almost detained. Six Texas Rangers now guard the governor.'
'Come home, Hector. We will be patient. But the governor will die.'
'I will not be governor.'
'Good.'
'But you must leave. It is too dangerous here. If El Diablo ever learns-'
'He won't. And I won't leave you.'
They sat on the back porch. Jesse leaned to Lindsay and kissed her. This time, she kissed him back.
THE DAY BEFORE
THIRTY-EIGHT
'That love child would've been the end of the boss,' Eddie Jones said. 'But Mandy takes the bullet instead, and his problems are gone. He's one lucky son of a bitch.'
Jim Bob's office again smelled like a fast-food joint. Eddie sat on the couch eating his Egg McMuffin.
'I'd rather be lucky than good,' Jim Bob said.
A month after the fact, Mandy Morgan was a distant memory, forgotten as fast as her body was cremated. She wouldn't even be a footnote to Bode Bonner's life story. John Ed Johnson's death had eliminated another scandal along with fifty million from the Super PAC. But Jim Bob had replaced that sum twice over with two phone calls. Bode's speech at the governors' conference had been hailed as groundbreaking in American politics. His polls climbed even higher. He now sat on top of the political world.
Bode Bonner was the wave.
'Course, you still got two problems to worry about,' Eddie said. 'One, that drug lord might get lucky and kill the boss, and two, that Mexican doctor might get lucky and win the election for governor. You figure the boss can still be president if he loses the election for governor?'
Jim Bob dropped five sugar cubes into his coffee cup.
'You up for another trip down to the border?'
'What for?'
'Because, Eddie, it's time to use your skill set to solve that particularly unpleasant problem for me.'
'Which one-the drug lord or the doctor?'
Dr. Jesse Rincon touched his nurse's sanitized hand.
'I am afraid for you. Lindsay, you should go home until this passes.'
'You mean, until El Diablo kills Bode?'
'I do not want that to happen.'
'I know.'
'But El Diablo, he will not stop.'
'I know that, too.'
