Haunted

CHAPTER 43

LUIS IS THE ONE WHO ALERTS ME THAT THE TRUCK is on its way. He comes out of his shack, a cell phone at his ear and Ramon at his heels, and heads for Adelita. In a minute, he’s cut the rope binding her to the post and is dragging her toward the church.

I remembered the first time I watched the village from my hiding place in the brush. How the church bells called the villagers to what I mistakenly thought was worship. I’m in the same place now, the duffel safe beside me, watching the same procession of men, women and children answer the peal of the bells. The difference this time, though, is that half the men are limping, their leg wounds bound by clumsy bandages, their faces drawn and pale from the pain.

I’ve removed all traces of the girls’ presence from the church. The empty water bottles, the wrappers from the protein bars. Even used a rag from the duffel to scrub away Peppi’s urine stain before moving back to the other side of the village.

The only bad thing about moving is that I can’t see Adelita now that she is inside the church. I can listen though. If I hear anything that sounds like Luis is abusing her, the plan to wait goes up in smoke. So far, it’s quiet.

What I do have is a clear view of the torn body of Luis’ henchman. The dogs have left, slinking back into the brush, leaving only the bloody, stinking mess of internal organs exposed to sun and heat. If I were capable of it, I would have gagged at the smell. There is blood and then there is blood.

In a few minutes, I hear the truck. I signal Culebra. The truck is coming. I have no idea how long it will take to package the drugs so be ready to get out when I tell you.

His response sounds like a hiss of anticipation. It makes me smile.

The truck pulls into the space between the well and the church. Two men jump out and one whistles a shrill greeting. By the time they’ve opened the back, three other men have joined them. Ramon’s men. I can tell because they aren’t limping. Yet.

The five men each shoulder a bag marked harina—flour—and head into the church. Only one man is sent back outside to stand guard. The door closes.

No sound of casual chatter drifts out from inside the church. Only the occasional sharp bark of an order or harsh hacking cough from a breath drawn too deeply. I didn’t see any protective masks among the detritus of plastic bags and duct tape left from one delivery to another. Evidently Luis doesn’t worry about his workers getting high on his supply. Maybe that’s part of their pay. All the cocaine you can inhale while working. I think of the children. My stomach roils.

I hope Adelita is careful enough to stay alert. She has no idea I’m here or that I’m planning to rescue her. But she needs to be able to move on her own when I tell her.

How long does it take to process five twenty-five pound sacks of cocaine? I have no idea. It strikes me that I know someone who does. I also realize I no longer hold Culebra’s past against him. It’s with a sense of relief that I reach out to him.

Is it time?

He sounds so eager I find myself smiling. Not yet. I have a question. How long does it take to package a hundred and twenty-five pounds of cocaine?

That’s about sixty kilos. Depends on whether they’re cutting it or just packaging it pure to be cut later.

I didn’t see anything around to cut it with, unless one of those bags wasn’t cocaine after all.

Unlikely. With everyone in the village working, I’d say not more than two hours. They can move pretty fast if they’re just weighing and packaging it.

Then we have two more hours to wait.

What then?

Once you hear the grenade explode, make your getaway. Meet me behind the church. How many men are with you?

Just one. That same hissing sound comes through that I heard before. I’ll bite him enough times to make sure he’s down. May not kill him unless he dies from shock. He may. I plan to let him see me shift.

I like your style.

I like yours, too. You may not know it, but cocaine is highly flammable. That truck should go up like a bomb.

That’s what I’m hoping.

We lapse into a comfortable silence. Then Culebra asks, How do you expect to get Adelita away from Luis?

I’m hoping when he hears the explosion, he sends his goons out to check what happened. I figure he won’t keep more than one or two men with him. I’ll take care of them and get Adelita free. We’re meeting Max back at the campsite. I plan to bring Luis with us. What happens to Ramon is up to you.

Good, Culebra says. I want to watch Ramon die. A pause. What about Luis?

No hesitation. Max can have first crack at him. Make Luis tell him where his brother is hiding. I figure I owe Max that much. He wants a big fish. I plan to see he gets a big fish. After that, Luis is mine.

Luis won’t be easy to crack.

The memory of finding Adelita being raped in the back of that truck, the image of Luis going from villager to villager and shooting them as casually as if swatting mosquitoes, the faces of the four young girls he had delivered like takeout for his pleasure . . . these things run through my mind before I answer.

Not easy for Max to crack maybe, I say. But not hard for me. He’ll talk for me.