Blood Slave

Faustino trained me well. I harbored a very healthy amount of fear and respect for him. He hadn’t ever hurt me, but I knew his capabilities. I’d hoped to never see him again, especially since I was on his shit-list for disappearing three months ago.



And here I was, ten feet away from El Tiburon and Enrique where they dined on Italian pasta. Well, Faustino dined. Enrique only dines on hot fresh liquid blood. They met at nine in the evening, in a restaurant filled with families. Lia and I sat at a table across from them. I faced away. All they could see was the back of my head. I had on a pair of two hundred dollar rose-colored Prada sunglasses, and an eleven hundred dollar khaki suit from Hugo boss. I looked absolutely nothing like the Esperanza de Salvador who Faustino had once known.



Knowing this didn’t help to alleviate the fear settled in my gut at being so close to a man who might kill me or cut pieces off my body if he recognized me. I had an eerie sense the last three months spent with Enrique were but a brief interlude, a passing dream that was now over. Like I’d been on loan to Enrique all this time, but now I must return to Faustino, my rightful owner. It really creeped me out. I felt ready to bolt at any minute, to run flat out as fast I could, to escape back to my beautiful bedroom at the penthouse.



We weren’t close enough to overhear the conversation, but Lia could. She had ears like a damn cat. I listened in through Lia’s ears, and at the same time I read Faustino’s thoughts to catch the unspoken.



Enrique got down to business immediately. “I understand you have need of my shipping services?”



“Si compadre. We need product transported from Panama into New York harbor. I know you can handle the job, my main concern is the cost.”



“Why all of a sudden? You never needed me to ship any farther than Florida in the past.”



That shocked the hell out of me. I had no idea Enrique smuggled cocaine. But it made sense. He knew Faustino, knew his nickname, they’d done something together before. I just never thought of Enrique in that light. He seemed too high class to be involved in this kind of business.



“I have problems. The mules, they don’t like to fly anymore. They’re superstitious about the new homeland security scanners. I tell them it’s only for clothing, pockets. The scanner is not an X-ray, it can’t see inside the body. They don’t listen. They are afraid. You know how it is. The ignorant ones always live in fear.”



Faustino himself couldn’t be certain if the new scanners saw into a person’s body. He tried to bully the mules into a test. Some of the cartel bosses back home were suspicious. The new scanners make people appear naked, all clothing digitally stripped away to reveal the nude body underneath. A subject of great debate among the cartels.



Faustino was hurting financially. The cocaine market had been steadily eroded away by heroin, methamphetamines, and all the narcotic prescription pills. Cocaine’s popularity had dropped fast. Faustino started trading cocaine for heroin in attempt to break into the market with the addict’s drug of choice. He tried to adapt, but business wasn’t what it used to be.



I felt relieved to hear the mules had been shut down. I knew firsthand of the nerve-wracking experience. I had swallowed the latex balloons of cocaine, made it through customs unscathed, only to face the ordeal of shitting them out in a cheap hotel bathroom, Traquetos standing around impatient to collect. That’s a mule’s job, and it’s risky enough without the added threat of the scanners.



A few months after I made my one and only delivery to LaGuardia International, I rented a movie called, “Maria Full of Grace”, about a girl who worked as a mule for the cartel. It was a low budget production, but it could have been a movie about my life. One of the girls died. I hadn’t witnessed that personally, but everyone knew the rumors of what happened when a latex ball bursts in your stomach. If you can’t get them out fast enough, you’re dead. I tried it once, got lucky, and decided to take my chances with Faustino rather than go back to Rubin.



Enrique nodded in acknowledgement of Faustino’s problems, and came straight to the point. “When, where, how much, and most importantly, how much can you pay me?”



Faustino snickered and scooped the last of his pasta down with a swig of beer. “That’s what I like about you. Always direct and professional. I know what to expect when we do business.”



Enrique smiled, “Simone.” Exactly



“I’m thinking three hundred kilos. We load up at Panama. Take a day or two to receive the product, then however long it takes for your ship to make it home.”



Enrique nodded. “A week or less, from the time we leave port in Panama. And your price?”



“Hundred thousand.”



“For three hundred kilos all the way from Panama? I’ll have to scramble to find some legal shipping contracts to create a legitimate reason for the trip. That’s not even a thousand a kilo.”



“Two hundred thousand.”



“Make it two hundred fifty thousand. I’ll pay the fifty as a bonus to the crew for timely delivery, and to keep their mouths shut.”



“Done.”



“I need a hundred thousand up front, and you’re responsible for bribing customs officials at both Panama and New York.”



“Of course.”



“When do we leave?”



“About a week. I’ll call you in a couple days to set a date to arrange for the first payment.”



“That will be payable to Reguera Internacional S.A., we have an account in Panama.”



“Yes, I recall that’s how I paid the last time.”



They shook hands and departed the restaurant. How crazy is that? What are the odds that my vampire master is an occasional business partner with my former cartel boss? I could probably catch better odds on winning the New York State lottery.



Beyond my initial anxiety and surprise at the revelation of Enrique’s history with the cartel, the meeting had been uneventful, boring. We talked back at home an hour later.



“Oh God I was so scared. I thought for sure he’d see me.”



Enrique hugged me close. “See, I told you there was nothing to worry about. He didn’t recognize you, no one would. Like the butterfly emerging from its chrysalis into a new life, you’ve been transformed, querida. So, what’s to report?”



“Nothing really. Well, Faustino will probably try to kill you if the product isn’t delivered.”



He nodded. “No great surprise. That’s the risk in this kind of business.” He spoke so nonchalantly, murderous threats from cartel bosses were no big deal.



“Faustino is always like that. He’s ready to enforce his business with any level of violence necessary. I’ve seen it before.” I tried to warn him.



Enrique seemed well aware of the unspoken threat and not overly concerned about it. Besides, I don’t think it would be very easy to kill Enrique. Faustino better pack a lunch for that one.



Then it clicked, the one detail I hadn’t thought of in the restaurant. Enrique had to meet Faustino in Panama in a week. It had never occurred to me Enrique would ever leave me behind on a business trip. But how could he take me? How to avoid being recognized? There would be numerous Traquetos there who knew me intimately – way too intimately.



“You’re going to leave me here … oh God, you are …”



“I don’t see how I can take you along.”



I’m ashamed to say I begged Enrique not to leave me, though I knew he’d have to do it to go forward with the plan. Logic had nothing to do with the horrible sense of foreboding I felt at the thought of him leaving.



“Can’t you send Lia or someone else? There’s a dozen Emilio’s running around hooking-a-crook for a dollar. Can’t you send one of them as a representative?”



“Querida, there’s no one I trust for this apart from Lia. You know Faustino. He’d never deal with a woman. I must be there in person. You know this.”



“I can’t let you go without me! I’ll stay in the hotel the entire time! You can keep me hidden!”



“Hope … Hope, you can’t leave the country until your visa is renewed. It should be ready within a couple weeks, but that’s not soon enough. And you know it’s too risky to take you with me into that nest of vipers. They all know you personally, don’t they?”



I nodded. He had me trapped, cornered. I had no argument that made sense, but I knew I’d be totally fucked if he left me behind.



“I won’t survive without you.” He made me cry again. I hate crying.



“Nonsense. Lia will be here at your side the entire time.”



“It’s not the same! I know it doesn’t make sense, but it’s all wrong. I can feel it! You can’t leave me … please don’t leave me … I love you … I need you!”



“Shush, shush. It’ll be fine. It’s only for a few days, two to three at most. I’ll be back here with you in no time.” He hugged me close, wiped the tears from my eyes. He made slow tender love to me that night, showing me how much he cared without saying the words. I know he doesn’t love me, but he cares, and for now that would have to suffice.



There was nothing I could do or say to change his mind. I tried. Every night I tried to talk about my feelings of dread and foreboding. At the point I thought he’d reconsider and cancel the trip altogether, Lia jumped in.



“I’ll take good care of our little Hope. Don’t worry – it’s no big deal. We’ll go catch a movie together. Have some fun – a girls’ night out.”



She turned the tide of my argument right at the moment he was about to cave in to my fears.



“Of course. See Hope … It’ll all be fine. Relax. Take it easy for a couple nights while I’m away.”



That was it. He would leave me, and I knew, I just knew nothing would ever be the same again. As it turns out I was right. Never discount a woman’s intuition.



* * * *



Chapter 17



Enrique flew to Panama on his private charter jet two days later. I didn’t bother to try convincing him any further, he made up his mind and that was that. He left me depressed. I didn’t feel up to going anywhere or doing anything. He promised to call when he touched down in Panama in the early morning.