Amor y Contrabando

It was early when they called, much earlier than anyone anticipated. They’d all thought that the Sinaloa Cartel would let a few days go by, at least three of four, so that Seraphina’s concern for Benjamin’s safety would overwhelm her, thus forcing her to immediately agree to whatever they demanded of her and Daniel, but that wasn’t so. Only fourteen hours had passed since the kidnapping, and oddly enough, they would’ve called sooner had they not run into some trouble on the drive to the ranch. The trouble in question hadn’t been anything too serious, only a little skirmish with some Mexican troops, but that was settled easily enough by the fourteen heavily armed men that escorted the vehicle in which Mauricio and Benjamin traveled. And as soon as the issue had been resolved, and the men were situated on the property that Don Peralta was hiding out in, they picked up the phone and made the call.

Seraphina was the one that answered. She was meant to be sleeping. Everyone except the four guards standing watch, were supposed to be off in the land of slumber, but despite her best efforts, she was wide awake. Her heart was in cahoots with her mind, and they were determined not to let her body have the rest it most desperately needed. Instead she was wide awake, clutching the pillow Benjamin used to sleep on as she stared at the empty jewelry box. There were blood stains on it, they were hardly visibly on the black fabric, but she could faintly make them out. And although the odds were that the blood belonged entirely to Frankie, she couldn’t help but wonder if it was stained with Benjamin’s blood as well. She hoped it wasn’t. The thought of him being beaten to the point where he bled, left her faint of breath. What had they done to him? What were they doing? Her mind concocted the worst possible scenarios it could conjure, and her heart indulged every thought, feeling the pain they stirred within it, most acutely.

Distraught as she was, she sobbed hysterically into his pillow. And it was as she sobbed that the phone started ringing. At first the wasn’t sure if it was actually ringing or if it was a figment of her imagination, but when she heard it ring for a second time, she rolled towards the edge of the bed, and grabbed the secured phone off the nearby night stand.

“Hello?” she spoke into the phone, blinking away her tears.

“F-Finn?” stuttered Benjamin. His voice shaking and filled with fear.

At the sound of his voice, she bolted up. “Benjamin?” she cried into the phone. “Aye Dios Mio (oh my God),” she whispered, unable to believe it was actually him. “How are you? Where are you? Please just let me know and I’ll go pick you up. I was worried sick. They got Frankie, and I thought they got you, but they didn’t. Right?” she needed his confirmation. “Of course they didn’t. You wouldn’t be calling if they –”

“They have me.” He cut her off. “I don’t know where I am, but they have me.”

“No . . . no, they can’t have you, because they wouldn’t be calling so . . . No!” she refused to acknowledge where he actually was. “You’re safe. Aren’t you?”

“For now he is,” spoke Mauricio in his heavy accent. “Don’t worry. Your güerito is fine, a little bruised up, but fine.”

“You son of a bitch!” she yelled, abandoning her bed and running downstairs to the office in the basement where the tracking device had been set up. “Your business is with me, not my boyfriend!”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Mauricio smirked. “You’re boyfriend is part of you, and since you no want to cooperate, we had to get him.”

She was almost at the office, her breathing was becoming ragged from the running, and thankfully for her, Mauricio thought her breathing was due to her anger, not to her trying to track them down.

“We told you that we’re not interested in a partnership.” She spat.

“You will be.” Mauricio turned to his men and motioned for them to hurt Benjamin. What happened next was a swift blow to the gut that made Benjamin cry out in pain. “Can you hear that?” he asked, motioning for them to hit Benjamin a second time.

“STOP!” she demanded.

“Hah. You no tell us what to do.” Mauricio declared. “We tell you. And right now, I'm telling you to go on your computer. Okay?”

“Why do you want me to go on my –”

“Go on your computer!” he roared. “I no have time for this stupid talking. Now go on it, and get on your Skype.”

“How do you have my Skype?”

“The same way we have your phone number.”

After saying that, he hung up the phone, leaving Seraphina scrambling to grab her laptop off the desk. She knew she had to wake Daniel up, the Cartel was bound to make demands and he had to be present to hear them, even if it pained him to be awake. So she ran upstairs as best she could, out the front door, and then asked Giovanni to please wake up Daniel, because the cartel had gotten in contact with them. With Giovanni in charge of waking Daniel, she ran to her room, where she grabbed her laptop and charger out of a drawer. She clutched them tightly as she ran to Daniel’s bedroom.

“What the fuck’s goin’ on?” asked Daniel in a grouchy voice.

“The cartel called,” she explained, out of breath. “They . . . they had Benjie on at first, and then Mauricio took over, and he told me to get on Skype. So we’re getting on Skype. Okay? So sit up, Niel,” she ordered. “And Gio?” she called to him.

“Yes Finn?” Giovanni watched her intently.

“Please put some pillows behind him so sitting up isn’t too uncomfortable.”

Giovanni did as he was asked and then excused himself from the room. Seraphina set her laptop down on the lap desk that Daniel owned, and a few seconds after she’d signed onto her Skype account, she had a request for a video conversation. There wasn’t a name, the icon was just a black square, but she knew it was them, and so, with trembling hands, she clicked accept and sank back beside Daniel. Her hand instinctively found his, taking it into her possession as she readied herself for whatever was to come. And it was good thing that she was holding his hand, because if she hadn’t, she would’ve felt as if she were alone in dealing with the burden that had been thrust upon them.

“Seraphina, Daniel!” Mauricio’s face took up most of the screen. “My amigos, I'm so happy you listened.”

“Cut the shit,” snapped Daniel, his anger and grouchiness making him unbearable. “What do you want?”

“That is no way to talk to a friend.” Mauricio stated, smirking devilishly. “Especially a friend that has something of yours . . .” he stepped aside, revealing Benjamin.

Benjamin was bruised and bloodied, his white shirt torn and stained with blood, his face swollen from the hellish beating it had sustained. He was strapped to a sturdy chair, his body bound by thick rope, and legs chained to the feet of the chair. He was a right mess, and as soon as Seraphina’s eyes laid on him, she began inching towards the screen, her face remaining perfectly composed, but her eyes betrayed her desperation.

“You monster!” she nearly growled.

“A monster?” asked Mauricio, feigning shock. “I am no monster. I try to do things easy way. You remember? Yes? I ask if you join us, if you help the Cartel, but you two said no, you said to go fuck myself. And I couldn’t do that. No. I can not do that. So I had to find other way. You made me find other way. And this is what had to be done.” He walked towards Benjamin, stopping when he was right beside him. “You see this? The blood on his shirt, the bruises on his face, the rag in his mouth?” he motioned to each of them. “You did this. If you helped from start, we no would have hurt him. He wouldn’t have been anything to us, but you no want to help, and now he is here, because of you.” He placed his hand under Benjamin’s chin to make him look at him, but Benjamin turned away, not wanting to be touched. “Fucking idiot,” cursed Mauricio, and then with both hands he grabbed his face, and forced him to look him in the eye. “You angry at me, but I didn’t do this to you. I would have never hurt you, güerito. This is their fault.” Mauricio forced Benjamin to face the camera, and then his men made the camera zoom in. “You thought she loved you, that she would keep you safe, but look where you are now.”

“What the fuck do you want from us?” Seraphina questioned gruffly, annoyed by his rambling.

“You ask stupid question.” Mauricio said, letting go of Benjamin. “We want what we went for, and if you no give it to us, then this güerito,” Mauricio grabbed him by the hair, “Is not going to be so handsome anymore. Hmm, on second thought, he will be, and I make sure you get this head that you love so much.”

Her jaw clenched, it was all she could do from saying something stupid.

“How do we get them to you?” asked Daniel.

“Niel!” shouted Seraphina. “What are you doing?”

“Come on, Finn. We all know there is where it’s gonna end up anyways. Whether we want to or not, they have Benjamin, we need him, and it’s just some fucking plants.” Daniel looked away from her and back to the screen. “How are we gonna do this?”

Mauricio smirked, pleased with how things were turning out. “Ten minutes after I end this conversation two black vans will be sent to your home. Take them to your warehouse and fill them with all the plants in the warehouse, also with seeds. At three, my men will return to take the vans to an undisclosed location.”

“There’s no way we can do all that in three hours!” Seraphina declared.

“You’re going to have to.” Mauricio stated. “Because if you don’t, if you make my men wait one minute after those three hours, your güerito will pay the price. Maybe he gets his feet broken, maybe his arms. I don’t know. But something will happen.”

“Fine,” she agreed through gritted teeth.

“Ah, that reminds me. We need one of you to come.”

“What?” Daniel and Seraphina blurted out at the same time.

“We need one of you to come.” Mauricio repeated. “We cannot take care of these plants on our own. You know what to do. You must teach us. And then, when we learn, you can go back to California, and the güerito can go with you. And do not worry; no harm will come while you here. Not for you, not for the güerito.”

“Will that be the end of our partnership?” Seraphina asked, hoping that he’d say it would.

Mauricio shook his head. “You will continue to grow, to experiment, and we will continue to take plants for as long as we like.”

“We’re not going to be able to get workers if they know we’re cooperating with a cartel.” Daniel said. “The people here don’t care for what you do.”

“Of course they care. Why do you think we do this? If it wasn’t for you Americans, we wouldn’t grow marijuana or cocaine. It is because of the demand of your country that we do this. It you wanted cookies, we would make cookies, but you want drugs. And maybe they no like how we do business, but they love the product. And if you cannot find workers, we send workers, no problem. Understood?”

They nodded.

“When I speak, I expect you to speak in return.” Mauricio said.

“Yes.” They told him.

“Good, now, we hang up, but remember Daniel, pack your bags.”

“He can’t go.” Seraphina refused to let Daniel travel, he needed to rest. “He’s in no condition to travel. He has seven bruised ribs. His entire body is black and fucking blue. There’s no way in hell that I'm going to let him travel like that. He needs to rest. So I'm the one that’s going.”

“We do not want you here.” Mauricio stated. “We want Daniel.”

“He’s fucked up. Your men fucking beat the shit out of him!” Seraphina hissed.

Mauricio shrugged as if it were no big deal. “That was his fault. And we no want you here, because you might be tempted to run off with your güerito. It is better that we have your two men, that way you no do anything stupid. Now go get ready. The vans will be there in ten minutes.”

“No! This conversation isn’t over. Don’t you fucking –” she let out a cry of frustration when the screen went black. “FUCKING ASSHOLE!” she yelled. “I’ll fucking kill you, you son of a bitch! I’ll fucking –”

“Save the anger for later.” Daniel advised. “For now we have to get to work.”

“I'm not letting you go to Mexico.” She told him. “I refuse to let them take you.”

“As touched as I am by your anger, we both know I have to go.” Daniel was right, she knew he was, but she didn’t want to admit. “What we need to do is take advantage of this. I’ll be with Ben, and that means that if I were to take something that can be tracked, you’ll know our exact location. That’s a hell of a lot better than getting a list of their known properties and having to guess where they are. It’d take way too fucking long. This way, you guys know exactly where they’re at. You can prepare, and ultimately attack.”

“But if something happens to you –”

“You won’t let anything happen.” He said it with such certainty, such conviction that she almost believed that she could stop anything bad from happening to him. “Ben’s the guy you’re gonna end up marrying and have a family with, but we all know I'm the man of your life, best friends till the fucking end.” He chuckled. “Now get that fucking frown off your face, and go tell the men not to shoot when the vans get here.”

“Once I do that, I’ll come back and get you dressed.”

“Nah, you’re gonna go right to the warehouse and start loading shit up. You can’t waste time with me. And don’t glare at me like that. I fucking hate it when your ass starts glaring. Now go.” He motioned for her to leave.

“Fucking asshole,” she cursed, a smile tugging at her lips.

“Yeah, yeah, love you too.” he nestled into the pillows. “Now can you ask Carlos to come in? He’s tech savvy so I'm gonna need his help.”

“Yeah, I’ll wake him up and ask him to come over.”

The first matter she tended to was the one regarded the vans. She walked outside and told Giovanni that they were expecting company, to not fire when the cartel workers showed up with the vans. He then called the others to inform them of what was going on. With that taken care of, she walked over to Daniel’s house, where she woke up Carlos. His eyes immediately snapped open, thinking they were under attack, but she calmed him down enough to explain what was going on, and after muttering something along the lines of getting his equipment ready, Seraphina left him, and limped back to her room where she changed into comfortable clothes and put on her running shoes.

At exactly ten minutes after the Skype conversation had ended, the two vans – accompanied by a small Honda – showed up. The men gave her the keys, stated that they would return in exactly three hours, and then sped off. Knowing there was no time to waste, she asked Giovanni and the others that had been standing watch, to join her at the warehouse. They asked her if she wanted them to wake the others to keep watch, but she said no. No one would attack their house. Not when there were so many plants on the line. So they left the house with their hearts full of worry, determined to do what had to be done.

The drive over to the warehouse was silent. No one bothered asking Seraphina if she was cooperating with the Cartels. They all knew she was. She’d told them that she was going to lure them into a false sense of security, make them believe that they had submitted themselves to the Cartels will, and then deliver a deadly blow. But it would’ve been nice to know exactly what had happened, how she’d gotten into contact with the Cartel, and precisely what had passed in the conversation. It would’ve been nice to know all that, to at least know some of it, but the look on her face made it clear that she wasn’t going to talk, at least not then. At the present, the only thing she cared about was loading the vans with the plants and the bags of seeds.

Once that was done, once Daniel and the Cartel workers had left, she’d sit them all down and tell them everything. She’d tell them about the phone call, the Skype session, and the demands. It’d be a lengthy conversation, filled with numerous questions from her men, but once it had been had, and as soon as she’d informed the other bosses of it, they could begin the planning process. They needed to stockpile weapons, make sure that they had enough to take on a small army, because that was what they were going to go up against. They needed high tech weaponry, and no expense would be spared, because after seeing Benjamin bound and gagged, she no longer planned on turning anyone into the DEA, she planned on having them all killed. The fact that she wanted to do that, terrified her. She wasn’t a violent person, never had been, but they’d crossed the line and now anyone associate to the Cartel was going to feel her wrath.

As she expected, prepping the plants to be moved and actually putting them in the van proved to be an exhausting and time consuming process. Their brows dripped with sweat as they worked relentlessly to load the vans, and luckily for them, their hard worked paid off. They were able to make it back to the house a few minutes before the Cartel workers arrived. Seraphina took that time to run inside and check up on Daniel. Much to her surprise, he was already dressed and even had his bag packed.

“You’re dressed.” Seraphina said, out of breath.

He nodded. “Carlos helped me get ready. He even packed my bag.”

“And I put some nudie mags in there.” Carlos smiled proudly.

“Did you? That’s fucking down.” Daniel grinned. “At least I know I’ll have some good shit to look at. Thanks man. I hadn’t even thought of taking some along.”

“Man, you know I got your back.”

Seraphina shook her head at them, but still smiled. “You guys are ridiculous.”

“Hey, a man’s got needs. I needed nudie mags in Iraq. Niel needs them in Mexico.” Carlos stood up. “And since we’re on the subject of Mexico, I'm gonna head out. I'm sure the guys could use another hand outside.” He walked out, leaving Seraphina and Daniel alone.

There was silence, an uncomfortable silence, which was out of place among friends as close as them.

“You guys can track me.” Daniel broke the silence. “Carlos put ‘em–”

“Finn, Daniel!” Carlos ran back into the room. “They’re here.”

“Then I guess it’s time I head out.” Daniel tried to stand up on his own, but was unable to do so.

“Just sit down, let me get the wheelchair.” Seraphina wheeled over to the side of the bed and helped him get on it. “Here you are.”

They wheeled him to the edge of the staircase, and from that point on, Carlos carried him down. When they walked outside, and reached the bottom step, Daniel was put back in the wheelchair. He was terrified of what was to come. He would’ve rather put a bullet in his head than go to Mexico, but he was doing this for Seraphina. She needed to get Benjamin back. And so as the friend, almost brother, that he was, he put on a brave face and without any tears or broken words he said his goodbyes. Seraphina knew better than to cry in front of the Cartel workers, so she simply hugged him extra tight, kissed his forehead and then watched him drive off.

Daniel was treated well by the Cartel workers. He wasn’t just thrown into the backseat of the Honda, he was carefully put in, they were cautious with him, knowing that he’d sustained a beating, and acting on orders from Mauricio to treat him well. He was no longer a threat. He was their guest. He had to be treated as such.

The drive to the airport wasn’t a long one, and it wasn’t a particularly bad drive. The road conditions were good and there was no traffic, but during the entire drive, Daniel was freaking out about the fact that he was in a car with men that had certainly killed people. He was in the car with murderers, and he’d soon be living under the same roof as them. That fear went away when they approached the airport. During the last three hours, he’d thought that they’d found a private landing strip, but no, they were going to an airport, with two vans loaded with marijuana. He immediately began freaking out; telling the men that they couldn’t go there, that they were all going to get arrested, but the men didn’t speak English. They didn’t even understand it. So in Spanish, they told him to shut the fuck up, and Daniel, understanding but not a speaker in the language did as he was told.

Surprisingly enough, the security didn’t stop the car; they let them go right through. It was obvious that they’d been paid off or that they’d been threatened, he wanted to think it was the latter more than the former, but whatever it was, the reason didn’t matter, what mattered was the fact that they were able to visibly load the jet with marijuana and not be detained. There was no airport security there to tell them to stop, no one called the police to report that wanted criminals were in the airport. No one paid them any attention, and when they finished loading up the jet, they flew off to Mexico.

Daniel was well tended to during the flight. He was given the best seat, the one that turned into a bed so that his body could rest, a clean blanket was spread atop him, and they even fed him. He didn’t have too much of the food, only a few bites because he didn’t want to upset the people that had his life in their hands. He was surprised by how cordial they were, how considerate and polite. These were men with blood on their hands, and yet they were giving his mother a run for her money in terms of hospitality. It was strange to see them act so . . . well, so human, so friendly. Whenever he thought of murderers or drug cartel workers from Mexico, he thought of emotionless killing machines, but here were these men, talking about their families, laughing at jokes, and offering him coffee and cookies. It was surreal, and he pondered how it was that men could be so violent, yet so seemingly friendly and hospitable. He pondered that until he landed in Mexico, and had a pillowcase thrown over his head.

He was denied of sight for two hours, forced to see the inside of his white pillowcase, and finally, after having driven deep into the country, they pulled up to the small ranch where Don Peralta was hiding from the Mexican government, and yanked the pillowcase off his head. He was then carried out from the vehicle, held until his wheelchair was opened, and then sat down to await Don Peralta, which wasn’t a very long wait. As soon as Don Peralta was informed that his guest had arrived, he abandoned his office and made his way towards the front.

Daniel sat in silence, his heart beat quickened when the door opened and he saw the man whom had tampered with his simple life. Daniel didn’t have to be told that the figure walking towards him was Don Peralta. He could tell by his fine clothes, but even if he’d been in less expensive clothing, Daniel would’ve been able to tell, because Don Peralta was fat. No, not fat. He was obese, morbidly so. And anyone that knows anything about Mafias and Cartels knows that the most overweight person is the leader. The boss doesn’t have to work anymore, demanding physical labor is something he makes others do. The only thing the boss has to do is make important decisions, and sit around, watching others carry out his orders. They eat. They drink. They get fat. And Don Peralta was another shining example of that.

“Daniel,” Don Peralta spoke in his heavy accent. “Welcome to Sinaloa.”