Amor y Contrabando

Neither Daniel nor Seraphina spoke during the drive over to the rendezvous point. There was no point in doing so, not when their minds were busy concocting possible scenarios that could take place in the foreseeable future. Seraphina imagined herself being shot in the back of the head and tossed into the ocean. Daniel pictured himself being beheaded in a dingy room with a faint light coming from an old lantern. Their minds seem set on making them freak out even more than they already were. They weren’t allies that sought to relax them, instead they were enemies that tortured them with the worst possible outcomes that the meeting could have, and those violent outcomes, made them want to turn the car around and drive until they reached Canada or Maine.

They wanted nothing more than to get as far as humanly possible, to put thousands of miles between them and the cartel workers, but despite their desire for self preservation, they knew they couldn’t just pick up and leave. It was their business that was being targeted. It was them that started the little empire they were sitting on, and now that things had gotten complicated, they couldn’t just take off, they had to be adults and own up to whatever was to come, because if they didn’t, then there was a chance that their employees might get hurt. The cartel might torture and kill them in order to find out where they had run off to, and they weren’t willing to put anyone else in that sort of danger. As the heads of the business, they had to ensure to the best of their abilities that their workers – the friends that they’d brought into the business and friends they’d made during their stay – were protected.

And so they drove to Trinidad State Beach in silence. Daniel kept his eyes on the road ahead, while Seraphina stared out the window, taking in the beautiful landscape that she loved so dearly. It was so peaceful, unaffected by the worries that pressed down on her heart. There was serenity there. It was heaven on earth. That was it always reminded her of in the morning. The way the animals gracefully made their ways through the shrubberies, the way the light reflected off the leaves and illuminated the terrain, was enough to feel her with a sense of peace and to make her think that if she were to die and go to heave, that that was how heaven would look like.
The beauty of the land was enough to briefly forget her worries, but when she saw a welcome sign for the parking lot, she remembered just why it was that they were there. And when Daniel pulled into the small parking lot in Trinidad Bay, her courage was beginning to fail her. Not that she would admit to that. Oh no, she’d never admit to Daniel just how terrified she was. It was the same with him; he wouldn’t admit to her the extent of his fear. That was why neither spoke for the first few minutes. They were afraid that their voice would betray them to their best friend, and make them realize just how frighten they were.

“It’s nice out,” commented Seraphina, breaking the silence. “Weather’s really good, and no clouds in sight.”

Daniel looked out his window. “There’ll be lots to do in the forest then. They’ll finally be able to get out there, since the rain was being such a fucking pain. Can’t remember the last time it rained that long.”

“Probably since before we moved here.”

“Yeah, probably,” mumbled Daniel, shutting off the engine. “So . . . did they say where we’re meeting them?”

“Nah, they just said to go the beach and they’d find us.

“Sounds promising,” he muttered under his breath. “For fucks sake, I can’t believe this is actually happening! It’s been surreal these last few days, like if it were some dream we’d wake up from, but now . . . now we’re here and its . . . well, I don’t know what it is. And it’s frustrating as hell.”

“I know it is. But there’s nothing we can do about it.” She reached over and placed her hand atop his, giving it a soft squeeze. “We’ll be alright.”

“What if we’re not, though?” he asked.

That was the first time that she’d ever despair in his eyes, the first time she’d ever seen him look so vulnerable. He was no longer the easy going thirty-one year old that always had a little smile playing across his lips, and who seemed to be in a perpetually good mood. There was no trace of a smile on his face, no warmth in his features. He was lost. He was frightened. He was just like her.

“Then I’ll be glad to know that I'm here with you,” she said. “There’s no one else I’d rather face this with, Niel, no one else.”

The corner of his lips hitched slightly upwards. “Same here, Finn,” he said, his voice sounding somewhat more composed. “We should get our guns now, shouldn’t we?”

“And put it on safety,” she reminded him.

Without saying anything further, they each grabbed their gun from the glove compartment and tucked it in on the backside of their pants. They knew if they were patted down the guns would be confiscated from them, but they felt better knowing that it would least be there during the walk over to the beach. To cover her pistol, Seraphina slipped on her light jacket, and once she felt ready, she stepped out. It wouldn’t be much longer now, just the walk to get from the parking lot to the beach, just a few more minutes and she’d be in the presence of one of the most wanted drug criminals in the world.

During the walk over to the beach, they stumbled across several acquaintances; an old couple to whom they’d given marijuana free of charge to help out with the wife’s chemotherapy, some teenagers from the high school that were faithful customers, and the policemen that were on their payroll. They couldn’t go anywhere without having to stop to talk to people, they were like celebrities in the small town, and on any other day, they would’ve stopped to chat, but they were pressed for time, and could only utter the basic civilities before they had to move on.

When they finally reached the beach area, there were only three minutes to spare before it was eight. The beach was practically deserted, there were a few people out surfing, but the actual beach was empty. They both looked around, trying to find a figure in the distance, someone that might be from the cartel, but try as they did, they couldn’t see anyone. And how could they when the people they were looking for were hiding in the forest, watching their moves.

“Gaspar, come with me,” spoke Mauricio. “Chuy and Javi, wait here and make sure no one comes this way.”

“Yes Señor,” they replied in unison, their voices firm and tone respectful.

Mauricio took in a deep breath as he fixed his baseball cap, and after the hat was just right, he began to walk towards them. He blended into the area, had anyone seen him, they would’ve thought he was nothing more than a hiker that was out enjoying the scenery. No one would have ever suspected that there was a $2 million reward for anyone who had information leading to his capture. And when Daniel and Seraphina first set eyes on him, they dismissed him as being just some hiker that had woken up early to take the trails, but the closer he got to them, the clearer they could see his face.

It wasn’t long before Seraphina recognized who he was. She’d been staring at his picture for a few days, memorizing the slope of his nose, curve of his lips. His face had been imbedded in her memory so well that a police sketch artist would’ve been able to make a perfect recreation of it, based solely on her description.

“That’s him,” she whispered to Daniel.

He nodded in understanding and exhaled deeply, trying to keep his cool. Just a few more steps and they’d be facing el Güero Gaviria and his henchman. Just a few more steps and they would know what the hell was going on.

“Good morning, Señor Turner, Señorita Jiménez.” Mauricio greeted them, in his thick Spanish accent. He held his hand out to them and shook them with a firm grip. “I no mean to offend, but Gaspar is going to have to, ah, check you. See if you no have any weapons.”

“I'm carrying a pistol and he has a gun.” Seraphina knew there was no point in lying to them or acting shocked when the weapons were found on them.

“Go check them, and be thorough; I don’t want any fucking surprises.” Mauricio ordered Gaspar to fulfill his duties.

“Why don’t we just speak in Spanish?” asked Seraphina in his native tongue and her first language. “Might’ve been born in the north, but I'm fluent in Spanish.”

“And the gringo?” asked Mauricio.

“He doesn’t speak much. Knows how to say a few phrases, but he understands.” Seraphina held up her arms as Gaspar patted her down.

“If he can’t speak it fluently, then we’ll keep the transaction in English. El Patrón wants to make sure you both understand everything well. He doesn’t want to risk having something get lost in translation. Ah, you weren’t lying about the gun.” He inspected the pistol closely and then instructed Gaspar to put them in their hiking backpack. “Now that we have this clear, we talk.”

“Here?” asked Daniel.

“Yes.”

“But don’t things usually happen in an office?” Daniel was afraid someone might see them.

“We don’t have office here, and we no want to talk in hotel room. We here because it’s empty,” stated Mauricio. “Look around. You see anyone? No. No one will hear. No one will see. Or you want to go in the forest?”

“No, this is fine.” Seraphina spoke on their behalf. “We just want to know why we’re here.”

“Because we have business proposition,” explained Mauricio. “Don Peralta taste a sample of the strain you made, and he was impressed. Very powerful, but smooth, it was very interesting to him. His plants don’t taste like that, and what he wants is for you to give us plants, seeds and to show us how to grow.”

“Let me get this straight, you not only want us to give you our plants but you want us to go along to teach you how to grow. Is that right?” Seraphina couldn’t believe he had the nerve to make such demands.

Mauricio nodded. “In return for your cooperation we will pay for each plant you give, and we will offer protection.”

“Protection?” repeated Daniel. “Protection from what?” he asked. “We don’t have enemies. The marijuana we grow goes to state sanctioned dispensaries. There’s no crime involved in our business. So why would we need protection?”

Seraphina watched as Mauricio’s lip curled upwards, and she suddenly realized what he meant by protection.

“You’re not talking about keeping us safe from other people. You’re talking about keeping us safe from you.” Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “This isn’t a business proposition. This is you trying to force us into giving into your demands.”

“Oh Güerita, calm –” Mauricio began to speak.

“Don’t call me that,” she hissed. “And don’t you dare tell me to calm down! You’ve invaded our peaceful part of the world to tell us that we have to cooperate or else we’re not going to be protected from you. You have disrespected us and treated us like children. We have a right to be upset. I have a right to be fed up.”

“You can be fed up, but you have to think about what happens tomorrow. You tell us that you no want to cooperate, and what do you think will happen? I got into this country easily, and I have a reward on my head. So tell me, what do you think will happen?” Mauricio stepped closer, mere inches from her face. “No answer? Maybe you need time to think. I give you both time,” he said, looking pleased for having done them the favor of granting more time.

“We don’t need more time,” declared Daniel, knowing very well that neither he nor Seraphina wanted to stain their hands with the blood of the Sinaloa Cartel.

Mauricio chuckled. “You meet me here tomorrow morning, same time.”

“But we don’t need more time. I just told you that –” Daniel’s face began to redden in frustration.

“Use the time.” Mauricio advised in a low voice. “Gaspar, take out the ammunition from their guns and give them to me.” He waited until Gaspar finished doing what he was ordered, and then took the guns back into his possession. “Here you go, my friends. And remember what I say, use the time to think, because we can be the best amigos or we can show you why we own Mexico.”

Mauricio didn’t linger much longer; he left the pair alone on the beach to think over what he’d just told them. Despite their protests, he knew they would give in. People always gave the Sinaloa Cartel what they wanted or they were killed. That was just the way of things.

“Son of a bitch,” cursed Daniel when Mauricio was no longer in sight. “Son of a bitch!” he cursed louder. “Who the fuck does he think he is, showing up like he owns the goddamn place, and threatening us on our turf? Fucking smug bastard!” he kicked at the sand. “He stands there and tells us he’ll protect us, but only protect us from him if we cooperate. What’s that about? Who does that?”

“Gangsters do that,” whispered Seraphina, eyes fixed firmly on the ocean. “But we’re not like that. We’re not gangsters. We’ve never had to have someone killed. There were a few people that screwed over Scott up north, and we had to send a few guys to beat them into paying up, but we’ve never had to get our hands really dirty. But they have. They’re used to that sort of thing. That’s why they had no problem threatening us.”

“I think that’s bullshit. When you’re trying to make a business deal you can’t threaten people like that. It’s unprofessional.” He rubbed his tired eyes. “But they don’t care about being professional or courteous. They just care about the money.” He paused, taking a moment to take in a deep breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “How the hell did they even find out about us? None of our supplies get shipped out to Mexico. Its dispensaries and a few places up north, that’s it. You think someone went out to try to deal in Mexico?”

“Why would anyone do that? All of our friends are as terrified of the cartels as we are. No one’s stupid enough to go over there. Maybe . . . maybe . . . I don’t know, maybe someone that picks up at a dispensary took our shit to Mexico and it somehow got into the wrong hands. I don’t know, but I know we can trust our friends. They’d never do anything like that.”

“I just want to know how we got found out.”

“That won’t make a difference though. It doesn’t matter how they heard about us, what matters is they heard and that they’re here. We need to figure out what we’re gonna do from here on out.”

“I don’t know.” He grimaced. “I don’t know what to do. I know I don’t want to get involved with them, but I also don’t want to die. You know what? Let’s go home and smoke about this. I need to calm down. God, I need to calm down and just think this through. And I can’t do that out here. Not when the day’s so fucking nice and I'm such a wreck.”

“Yeah, alright, let’s go home.” She buried her hands in her pockets and began to walk towards the car. “Should we tell everyone to take the day off? Leave the forest and warehouses alone?”

“Hmm, no, we shouldn’t. Let’s just leave them keep growing. I don’t think the cartel will do anything to them today. They’re giving us until tomorrow, so we’ll be safe until then.

“What we should do is to up the security. We’ve only got Rigs and Matt,” reminded Seraphina. “We’re gonna need at least two more of the guys. Don’t give me that look, I know you think we’re fine for today, but I don’t want to take any damn chances.”

“In that case, I’ll tell Carlos and Frankie to come over. They’re supposed to be at the warehouse, but Joel and Matt will still be there, so that’ll be fine.”

“Should we fill them in on everything? I mean, they know we had a business meeting, but the only person that knew what it was about is Benjamin”

“Yeah, well they need to know what they might be up against. So they can stock up on anything they might need. We should probably give them a couple grand to buy weapons and whatever else they need to get.”

“And we should give them the okay to bring out the weapons they have in storage.”

Daniel shot her a confused look. “Which ones?” he asked.

“The ones we told them were inappropriate. The grenades, the launchers, those things,” she replied. “I bet if someone were to hear us talking they’d think we were getting ready for war. And I guess they’d be right, we are in a way.” She pursed her lips together in thought. “We should get in touch with the police; throw some more money their way for extra protection.

“And what the fuck are we gonna tell them? They might rat us out to the DEA. This is huge.”

“They know not to contact the DEA,” she said in a low voice. “We have them on payroll. Remember? They get money from us and if we were to get pinched, so would they. So don’t worry, they’ll go along with us. They don’t want their town to go to the narcos.”

“What do you intend to tell them?” he asked, turning on the ignition.

“Ah . . . I'm not really sure. I feel like I have to tell them to keep a lookout on anyone that looks Hispanic that isn’t from the area, but I'm hesitant towards saying that because that’s racial profiling. And what if that person has nothing to do with the cartel? But it’s like what else can I say? They’re Mexican. They are a drug cartel from Mexico so I feel that the profiling is necessary. Fuck. I’ll just tell them not to stop anyone, but to keep a close eye. Observe and don’t engage unless it’s absolutely necessary. Yeah, that should work.”

“That fucker Pritchard’s not gonna be able to do that.”

“Just because you and Pritchard don’t get along that doesn’t he’s a moron. He’s been good to us, and deserves our respect.”

“And I do respect him. Just not behind his back, don’t give me that look. The only person I talk shit about him to, is you, and then you go off on those rants about respect. And make me feel like a dick.”

She cracked a small smile. “You are a dick.”

“Nah. Not even. Don’t be telling lies about me,” he joked, returning the smile. “You know what? Let’s go get some fucking breakfast. Let’s pick up some waffles and just fucking munch at the house.”

“We don’t have time for that.”

“Hey, this might be our last breakfast, because I know I'm going to start shitting and puking once the clock strikes midnight, so let’s just eat. Because I didn’t eat yesterday, I didn’t sleep. And I know you didn’t either. You look like shit.”

“Gee, thanks for being so fucking nice about that.” She punched his shoulder, earning a soft groan from him. “But you’re right about the food. I’ll call Julie’s with an order, and we’ll drop by to pick it up. Ah, but first I have to call Benjamin.”

“What for?” asked Daniel, turning onto the main road.

“He wanted me to call him right after the meeting ended. I think it’s because he wanted to make sure we were still alive. And I need to tell him to get off work earlier. He’s supposed to get off at four, but I want him to get off at two. That way I can spend more time with him.”

“Liar,” declared Daniel.

“What?” Seraphina craned her neck to better look at him.

“You heard me. You don’t want him at the house just to spend more time with him. On second thought, that might be one of the reasons, but you mostly want him there so you can make sure he’s safe.”

“I’ve got to take care of what’s mine.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” he made a left. “Call Julie’s up already. We’re like ten minutes away.”

Their breakfast order was quickly placed, and a short while later, they were settling down in their living room to gorge. There were waffles and pancakes, bacon and sausage, hash browns and eggs. They’d gotten a little bit of everything to make it a true feast, and as they ate, they watched episodes of Workaholics that had been recorded. In that moment they forgot that there was a cartel that wanted their product, in that moment they were just friends who were hanging out and having breakfast together, but the moment eventually passed, and when their forks were put down and the final episode came to an end, they remembered the mess they were in.

“I’ll throw this out, and call Carlos and Frankie, let them know to come over,” spoke Daniel. “Then once they’re here we can sit them down, tell them what’s up.”

She nodded in agreement. “I’ll call Pritchard then, tell him to meet me at the grocery store at noon.”

They went their separate ways to make the phone calls. Daniel told his friends that they needed them at the house as soon as possible, Seraphina informed Pritchard to meet her at the grocery store to have a little chat. Pritchard had important files that needed reviewing, but he knew better than to keep her waiting, so he agreed to meet her.

When the pair finished the calls, they returned to the living room where they began discussing what their next move should be. They had less than twenty-four hours to decide whether they wanted to align themselves with the cartel and do what was asked of them, or if they wanted to become their enemies. They talked and talked, and the more they talked, the more they realized there was no way in hell they were going to be able to give the cartel what they wanted.

“Thing is, we can’t even trust them. Yeah, they’re saying we’ll be good while we’re teaching them. But what happens after?” asked Seraphina. “What happens when they’ve mastered our techniques? Are they just gonna let us walk away from there or are they gonna put a bullet in our fucking heads to make sure no one else tries to coerce us into showing them how to it? And if they do kill us after we’ve taught them what to do, then there’s no point in helping them.”

“We’re dead either way.” Daniel spoke quietly. “If we do what they want, we get to live a little longer. If we don’t, we die right away. And what’s the point in living a little longer if we’ll be linked to them? I don’t want to go to my grave having people think I fucking supported those bastards and their massacres. Fuck that. I'm not going to go to my grave like that.”

Neither was she. She couldn’t stand the thought of having her name being tarnished by being associated to the Sinaloa Cartel. Daniel and she might’ve grown marijuana for a living, but they kept the business cordial, and for the most part it was a pleasant experience for all involved. They paid their employees good wages, higher than any in town. They all had health insurance, granted, the health insurance was all individual and not “company” provided, but they paid those fees for their workers; their employees could take time off if they needed to and not risk getting fired. Their little business was one that she could die being proud of, but if she were to get mixed up with the narcos, she’d never be able to rest in peace.

“I guess we’re dying tomorrow then.” Seraphina stated after a prolonged silence.

“You know what? Maybe we could run away? Let’s go to Canada, we can live in the wilderness.”

“You wouldn’t survive the cold. As soon as it’s forty, you’re bitching.”

“How about Greece?” he proposed. “One of those countries over there, those should be good.”

“Daniel, you know we can’t run. If we go, then our workers are going to get hurt. And we’ll probably be hunted down like animals. They have contacts in Spain, that’s where the drugs get pushed into Europe from. They’ll find us. What we have to do is leave instructions, prepare notes for our workers, let them know to just leave the warehouses and fields, and leave this town. We don’t have their names written down anywhere, we don’t have any lists. They can get away. We’ll give them money to start over somewhere new, and we’ll go meet our deaths. That’s what we have to do.”

“I hate you for being so reasonable.” He stared down at his hands. “But you’re right. We have to leave instructions. Let them know what to expect. And we need to get things in order for us. Burn what needs to be burned and clear our internet histories.”

She cracked a small smile. “Come on Daniel, you don’t have to be ashamed of the gay porn on your laptop. If you can’t come out after death, when can you?”

“Fuck you, I'm not gay.” He also smiled. “But we do have to make sure we leave everything in order.”

“We’ll do it once Carlos and Frankie get here.”

“Are you still going to meet with Pritchard?”

“Yeah, he deserves to know who’s in his town.” She stood up. “I'm gonna go have a drink. Want one?”

“I don’t want one. I need it. It’ll calm down the nerves.”

“We need something stronger for the nerves. Why don’t you go grab some of that new strain we’ve been working on?”

“Finn, we can’t some now. We need to be functional.”

“Then tomorrow we’ll do it, show up early to the beach, smoke out on the sand, it’ll be a good way to go out.”