“Very well. I have my best men preparing them. I’ll be returning to the camp soon to oversee the last three weeks of their training.”
“Excellent. Some of Castillo’s Maras up north are still holding out. I need the new men to put them down like the crazed dogs they are. A final assault and we will consolidate our position in Mexico. Our men, your guns.”
“A match made in heaven, as the Americans like to say,” Ali said. “And what about Castillo’s distribution network in the United States? We should take them out as soon as possible.”
Bravo draped an arm around Ali’s shoulder. “That is the other thing I wanted to talk to you about. This Castillo thing…”
“What about it?”
“His whole family wiped out. And for what? Because he killed the wrong kids. Really, just one wrong kid if we’re going to be honest about it.”
“What’s your point,
“Do you have a wife? Kids?”
“Yes. Two wives and seven sons.” Ali didn’t think his three daughters were worth mentioning.
Bravo laughed. “Seven sons? That’s good. So you understand. I don’t want anything to happen to my children. Or to me.” Bravo steered him toward the temple.
“You are afraid of Myers? A woman?” Ali was incredulous. “We led her around by the nose. Why worry about a worthless one like that?”
“It’s not her I’m worried about. It’s her guns. Her planes without pilots. You’ve heard the rumors.”
Ali stopped and smiled. “You do not have to be afraid of such things, my friend. I have fought the Americans and their Predator drones before. Do you know why Americans fight with their robots? It is because they are afraid to fight and die like men. That is why they would not send their soldiers in to deal with Castillo.”
Ali was amazed at how much fear these Mexicans had of the effeminate Americans. First he had to bolster Castillo’s courage, and now Bravo’s.
Bravo shook his head. “You have a short memory, amigo. Remember the Gulf War? Remember the videos? ‘Shock and awe.’ The Americans destroyed Saddam’s army in a few weeks. You fought the Iraqis for almost eight years and couldn’t beat them. How many men did you lose?”
“A million martyrs, counting wounded.”
“You see? And Hussein had only primitive Soviet equipment for you to fight against. You can’t defeat the Americans, Ali. Nobody can. Their technology is too good.”
“The Taliban have a saying. ‘The Americans have the watches, we have the time.’ It has been over eleven years since the Americans invaded Afghanistan. The infidels have their aircraft carriers and supersonic fighters, while the poor Taliban fighters have only their rifles and their guts. The Americans are quitting Afghanistan just like the Russians did, and the Taliban remain. The Great Satan has the will to kill, but not to fight.”
“But the Americans defeated Hussein. He had thousands of tanks and hundreds of thousands of soldiers.”
“They only defeated Saddam because he was stupid. He left his tanks and his men in the desert for weeks and let the Americans bomb them continuously. Many strategic and tactical mistakes were made by that Ba’athist fool, and the Americans exploited those mistakes to the fullest. Do you not see? The Americans could never have fought an all-out war with Iraq for eight years, but we did. Do not let Myers’s actions convince you she is strong when, in fact, she is acting from a position of weakness. She uses drones because she is afraid to fight another real war with soldiers. That should tell you everything you need to know about the Americans.”
The ambient air temperature dropped as they entered the cool of the temple.
“Much better in here, isn’t it?” Victor asked. He pulled off his sunglasses. So did Ali.
“Yes.” Ali’s eyes adjusted to the dark. He saw the reclining stone image of the Chac-Mool lounging in the shadows. The idol’s lifeless eyes chilled him to the bone.
“What happened to the Mayans, Ali? Do you know?”
“No.”
Victor rubbed his hairless chin. “Nobody knows for certain. The best guess is that the ancient Mayans did it to themselves. Perhaps they grew too fast? Or reached too far? Maybe they fought one enemy too many. It doesn’t really matter. What matters is that they are gone.”
“And that is the real reason why you brought me out here.”
Victor laughed. “That obvious, eh? Well, you are right. With Castillo out of the picture, everything changes. Before, we fought turf wars with him over production in this country and distribution in the north. Spilled a lot of blood to defend territory or to expand. We had to fight for both ends of the transaction. But not now. We will soon control one hundred percent of the production, so we will double our profits. Maybe more, since we will now control supply and the demand up there is infinite. I guess you could say that the Americans have the noses and we have the coke.”
“That’s good news, is it not?”
“Yes, it is. I need you to wipe out the Maras in Tijuana and Juarez, but I can’t let you cross into the States right now. I can’t afford to piss the Americans off. Do you understand?” It wasn’t really a question.
Ali began to worry. He had his own plans for the Bravo men he was training that Victor was not aware of.
“What are you proposing?” Ali asked.
“Myers has satisfied herself with the syndicate’s blood. I don’t want to give her an excuse to kill me and my sons, too, like that idiot Castillo did.”
“Are you not worried that you will lose control of the distribution in the States?”
“Not as worried as I am about those Predators hunting me down. There will be time for that later.”
Ali saw the determination in Bravo’s searching eyes. The unassuming drug lord had little education yet he was smart enough and ruthless enough to build the second most powerful drug cartel in Latin America that, thanks to Myers, was now the most powerful. But Victor Bravo was still possessed by the habitual fear and wariness of a poor rural farmer so he was unable to fully appreciate the strategic opportunity that Ali had just handed to him. Ali knew there was no arguing with him or with the armed loyalists that surrounded him.
“I bow to your wisdom,
“Excellent.” Bravo patted Ali on the back and nodded toward the pistol still in Ali’s hands. “I hope you enjoy your new toy.”
Ali flashed the golden weapon in his left hand. “With just one of these golden bullets, I can buy another wife.” He extended his free hand. They shook. Bravo held on.
“Just be careful where you point that gun,
Ali smiled, nodded. “I understand,
Ali carefully set the pistol back in its velvet-lined case and shut the lid, wondering how much damage a golden bullet would do to a high sloping forehead like Bravo’s.
26
Arlington, Virginia
Jackson secured permission from Early to bring Sergio Navarro into the loop. The young analyst had been the one to find the Facebook video that had cracked the Castillo case open, and he wanted to reward him with something far more valuable than just a commendation in his service jacket. Jackson knew that Navarro had a thriving Internet business on the side, providing his own proprietary search engine optimization (SEO) service for online vendors. The DEA could never hope to match the money that Navarro could earn in the private sector, but it could offer him something that a fat paycheck never could: the pride that comes with hunting down the bad guys.
