The Death Relic

13

Angel Ramirez was second-in-command within Hector’s organization. Pronounced ‘AHN-hell’ in Spanish, Angel was phoned a few hours after Hector received the proof-of-life call from the kidnappers. Hector wouldn’t tell him what was going on. He just told him to get his ass to the mansion as soon as possible. He would explain everything when Angel arrived.

Hector was waiting for him in the library. As he paced back and forth, the look on his face was one of rage. Not anger, but all-out fury. Unaware of the crisis, Angel assumed that he had done something to upset his boss. He racked his brains, trying to remember any mistakes he’d made in the last few days, but he came up empty. Nevertheless, Angel was so concerned about Hector’s wrath that he glanced at the floor to make sure plastic hadn’t been laid down to protect the wood. On more than one occasion, Hector had fired an employee by literally firing at him.

Angel breathed a sigh of relief when he saw floor.

Still pacing, Hector blurted out, ‘They have my kids.’

‘What?’ he said in Spanish.

‘They have my fucking kids.’

‘Who does?’

‘How should I fucking know? If I did, I would get them!’

Angel shook his head in confusion. His boss wasn’t making sense. ‘Hector, what are you talking about? Someone stole your children?’

‘Yes!’ he screamed. ‘They got my kids!’

‘When did this happen?’

Hector paused in thought. For him, the last thirty-six hours had been a long nightmare. At some point, one day had run into the next. ‘Yesterday. While we were sleeping.’

‘They took your kids from here?’

‘Yes!’

‘How did they get in?’

Hector glared at him. ‘I have no fucking idea! I’m not a detective!’

He picked up an antique globe and flung it across the room. Solidly constructed from a single piece of metal, the globe struck a series of Aztec masks that were displayed on the far wall. One of the masks was obliterated on impact, and another was damaged when it fell and bounced across the floor. Hector immediately regretted his outburst.

Other than his kids, those artefacts were his pride and joy.

Growing up in Mexico City, Hector was fascinated by the history of the Aztecs, an indigenous group that had ruled the region through power and fear. Even as a small boy, when most of his friends were focused on baseball and soccer, he preferred the local museums to the neighbourhood parks. He simply couldn’t get enough of Aztec culture. Eventually, once he reached a point in his life where he had more money than he could possibly spend, he returned to his childhood passion, buying Aztec artefacts by the dozen. The shelves and walls of his library were lined with the relics he had collected in recent years.

Angel urged him to settle down. ‘Hector, listen to me. I know you’re upset. You have every right to be. I can’t even imagine the terror you’re feeling. But I need you to tell me everything. Not a little. Not a lot. But everything. It’s the only way I can help.’

A few seconds passed before Hector nodded. Slightly at first, and then a full nod, as if it took that long to finally give in. For a man like Hector, it took a lot to admit that he needed help from anyone, even his best friend. Normally, he had the world by the balls, not the other way around. ‘OK, I’ll tell you. But it doesn’t leave this room.’

‘Of course not. This is between us.’

‘I’m serious,’ he growled. ‘If this gets out, our enemies will pounce. I can’t afford to show weakness.’

Angel nodded in agreement. He knew what was at stake.

Over the next few minutes, Hector filled him in on everything. The phone calls. The threats. The initial request. And worst of all, the silence. Twelve hours had passed since Hector had received a proof-of-life. One from his daughter, but not from his son. Both men had been in the kidnapping game long enough to know that it was probably just a ploy. Nothing more than a scare tactic to speed up negotiations. On the other hand, they had also seen the alternative. Maybe something had happened and the boy was dead.

Hector tried not to think about it.

Angel asked, ‘What does your gut tell you?’

‘About what?’

‘The kidnappers. Why did they target you? For money? For power? For revenge?’

He shrugged. ‘Probably all three.’

‘Maybe. Or maybe not.’

He wasn’t in the mood for games. ‘Explain.’

‘If this was about power, why did they go after your kids? They were already in your house. They got past your guards and your security system without detection. If they cared about power, why didn’t they just creep down the hall and shoot you in the head? That would have made a much bigger statement than a kidnapping.’

Hector glared at him. ‘Are you trying to make me feel better?’

‘As a matter of fact, I am. In our business, the only way to get power is to take it. They had their chance to steal your crown, but they passed on the opportunity. Why would they do that if they cared about power? The truth is they wouldn’t.’

Hector shrugged. He wasn’t in the mood to think.

Angel continued. ‘I think revenge is the most likely reason. You make your living from kidnapping, and someone abducted your kids. I think that’s too coincidental to ignore.’

‘You’re probably right.’

‘I’m sure money will come into play at some point, but so far they haven’t asked for cash. Or have they?’

‘No money. Just the medallion.’

Angel shook his head. It didn’t make sense to him. Hector had millions upon millions of dollars, but so far the only thing the kidnappers had requested was a relic Hector had bought at a private auction for less than 20,000 dollars. Why would they do that?

‘I don’t get it. What’s so special about this medallion?’

Hector sighed. ‘Everything.’