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Authors: A K Alexander

The Cartel (23 page)

BOOK: The Cartel
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Over dinner, at the small table with pictures of Christ hanging on the surrounding walls, his mom gave him the same old lecture. "Alejandro," she said in that tone of voice that only mothers used. Alex looked down at his bowl of
menudo
. "As you know, I received your report card today in the mail. You can do much better than C's. You are a smart boy."

 

Alex couldn't look at her, because he knew she was right. He knew that he could do much better. He did well on the tests. It was the homework he never finished. Hector always distracted him in the afternoons and he let it go.

 

"You’ll have to try much harder. I want you to start thinking about college and your future."

 

"Mama, even if I could get into college, we don't have the money to pay for it."

 

"Don't you worry about that," she replied. "The money will be there for college."

 

"How do you know? Do you have a night job I don't know about?" Alex teased her.

 

Marta didn't smile. "I am serious, Alejandro, you must start thinking about college. I also want you to get a job this summer. I’m going to be working double shifts at the factory, and I won't be here to babysit you. Not that I should have to at your age, but I don't want you stuck in this house, or out palling around all summer with your friends."

 

"You mean Hector?"

 

"Yes, I do mean Hector. As much as I love Elisa like a sister and both her boys like my own, neither one of them has proven to be worth his salt. She has done everything for those two, and they repay her by doing criminal things."

 

“Mama, don't be silly."

 

“Don't talk back to me. You will do as I say, and that means getting a job for the summer, and start thinking about college."

 

“Yes, Mama."

 

“Good boy.”

 

After dinner, Alex climbed out his bedroom window and met Hector down the street.

 

“My mom says I gotta work through the summer."

 

“Yeah, well did she say what you have to do?"

 

“No."

 

“I got a job for us then. I talked to my brother about
our
ideas."

 


Our
ideas?"

 

“You know, us selling pot. There’s a lotta profit there."

 

“Yeah?" Alejandro asked, the word
profit
piquing his curiosity.

 

“He told me he knows of a guy who can set us up real nice, you know, and we can make a lot of dinero." Hector rubbed his hands together.

 

“You sure about this?"

 

“Hey, cuz, when did I ever lie to you?”

 

“You lied to me about Gabriella liking me,” Alex replied.

 

“Yeah, but I was foolin’ you. Hey, you know that Acapulco Gold stuff the gringos like so much?"

 

“Uh-huh."

 

“He says he can get us some of
that
."

 

“Really?" If Hector was telling him the truth, then the possibility of him going to college and eventually getting his mother out of the ghetto could become a reality for them, and he wanted that for her. He’d bring up his grades and he’d live the dream she wanted. “It sounds better than working in a donut shop.”

 

“No shit. You in?"

 

Alex slowly nodded his head. “But if my mom finds out anything about it, I’m dead meat."

 

“You’re mama won’t know nothin’.”

 

“I hope not.” The thought of his mother finding out worried Alejandro, but he attempted to fool himself into believing that once she saw all of the money he was going to have to buy her a beautiful home and money for him to attend college, she wouldn’t be so angry. Alex and Hector shook hands on the deal.

 
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
 

“Coca, coca, coca.” Do you know how much money the wops are making off of it?" Emilio asked Javier, who'd been in Colombia for meetings all week.

 

“There is a lot of money to be made.”

 

“You're so right. But the problem is old habits die hard, and I don't think my brother is going to be too keen on getting into it."

 

“Is that why you asked me here without Antonio’s knowledge?" Javier sat back in the chair and crossed his arms in front of him. Antonio was his dearest friend and partner, but this ruffian of a brother of his left a bad taste in Javier’s mouth.

 

“Precisely."

 

“I don't think he'd like us meeting without him. I was under the impression when you phoned that he would be here."

 

"Yes, I know, but he took the girls on a vacation. You know Rosa has been so upset, so withdrawn since her mother died, even now—this many years later.” He shook his head. “The poor girl needs to be in an institute. She is out of her mind. My brother has felt so guilty about her despair. Life is unfair. I believe he keeps hoping she’ll regain her senses.” He shrugged. “He’s taken them on their annual trip to Europe. I thought you knew that. He said something about their going to visit Bella in Paris.”

 

Javier looked away, his own guilt consuming him. He missed his daughter dearly. Every time he looked at Carlotta lately, he couldn’t help despising her for putting a wall between Bella and him. Carlotta had convinced him late into her pregnancy with Stefan, that it would benefit Bella and Miguel to attend boarding schools. After much deliberation and argument, Carlotta won out, and Bella was sent to France to a girls’ school that evolved around an equestrian program.

 

“I won’t have time for the other children when the baby arrives and you are traveling so much these days. It will be best for all of us, and then by the time they come home for holidays, the baby will be old enough to be taken care of by a nanny and we’ll be able to bond again and all of us will have a lovely time together. All of the wealthiest families in the world send their children away for their education. It is the best for Isabella and Miguel. They can’t get what they rightfully deserve in an education here in Mexico,” Carlotta said. “And, we’ll be able to dote on our new baby without making the other children jealous, which would be natural. You know how Isabella can be. To be honest, I’m not so sure she wouldn’t harm the baby.”

 

“That’s ridiculous,” Javier retorted. But he knew that she had a point. Bella was not happy that her stepmother was having a baby and had told Carlotta one night when she went into her room and offered to read her a bed time story that she would hurt the baby when her father or Carlotta wasn’t looking. When Javier asked Bella about it, she stared at him and said nothing. Javier at that point had acquiesced to Carlotta’s suggestion, and he’d sent his beloved daughter and the boy he’d come to know as his son away to their prospective schools in Europe.

 

By the next year, after the baby was born, Javier had begun pleading with Bella to come home, missing her terribly and knowing that he’d made a huge mistake. However, she made it perfectly clear to her father that she had no intention of coming home. She’d held her grudge for nine years now, only visiting during Christmas and spring breaks, and during the summertime. Javier doubted, after all this time, that they would ever share the closeness they once felt for each other.

 

As for Miguel, he’d been sent to a boys’ Catholic school in Spain, preparing him for the seminary and priesthood. Javier knew that Miguel was pleased with this arrangement. He’d expected his mother to send him away. Javier realized that the only real despair Miguel had felt about it at all was leaving his step sister, when she was still so upset about everything. Fortunately, according to the letters he received from Miguel, the children spent at least one weekend a month together. His step-son usually went to France via the train to visit Bella. He was a good boy who took care of his sister. At least they had each other.

 

“Javier, you listening?”

 

“Yes, I’m sorry. I knew Antonio was going to Europe, but I hadn’t realized so soon. I wish he had contacted me before he left. I would’ve sent along a gift for Bella.”

 

Emilio squirmed in the leather chair across from Javier, while they continued to converse in Antonio’s study, as if he had something to hide.

 

“It’s not like him to not let me know when he is leaving.”

 

"Yes well, he was very busy right before he left. I’m certain he planned to phone you. Regardless. Look Javier, I'm not going to waste your time here. You know my brother is an old-fashioned sort. He likes being the
Patrón
, but times are changing, and our organization needs to change with them."

 

"We're making enough money selling
mota,
and with our other businesses. Leave it at that, Emilio." Javier didn’t like where this conversation looked to be heading. Since Emilio had come on board, he'd seen the cocky bastard try to weasel into running everything. He should’ve brought Pedro along on this visit. Pedro seemed to be the one person who intimidated this little
pendejo
. Unfortunately, Pedro had come down with the flu, and at the last minute, couldn’t make the trip.

 

“You're wrong on this, Javier. We have the land and the manpower. Don’t think like a dinosaur on this one. Cocaine is going to be the drug of the future. I'm telling you, I've tried this stuff. There is nothing comparable to it. The high you get from this white powder is excellent. When you’re on it, the power you feel is immeasurable. I swear that it actually increases your intelligence."

 

Javier shook his head. “We don’t use drugs in this organization, and I doubt there is any drug that can make you more intelligent.”

 

“The money will pour into our laps." Emilio stood up and paced back and forth. “We have the means, right here in our own backyard, to produce the purest, highest grade available. I don't think you realize how much money people will spend for this stuff."

 

Javier looked away. This did not interest him in the least.

 

“Listen to me. You think selling
mota
for five hundred a key is big? It isn’t anything compared to
six thousand
a key for the white gold."

 

"Did you say six grand?"

 

"Ah, did I find your number?" Emilio laughed.

 

“You've got my attention anyway." A number like that would get anyone’s attention.

 

“Good." Emilio walked over to the wet bar and poured two shot glasses of tequila.

 

“What would my role be in all this? What do you want from me?"

 

“First, to convince Antonio that this is the wave of the future, where the real
dinero
is. Once you’ve achieved that, you would head up the political end of it. Since you’re a government official, it’s important we make nice with the police and the Immigration."

 

"What kind of risk are we talking, as far as Stateside goes?"

 

"A little more than the
mota
. Shit man, a drug bust is a drug bust, but it's not a problem if you’ve got the right connections. I’ve got some guys in the States ready to deal, and they'd make damn sure we don't have any problems."

 

"I'll think about it. But I think we should talk to your brother before we decide anything."

 

"Yes, I agree," Emilio replied. “That is your department. I think the way to handle him is not to even let him know this is my idea. You take all the credit for this, man. He still sees me as a snot-nosed kid. And, you after all are my brother’s keeper.”

 

“And you, Emilio are exactly what your brother and I think you are and that is a snot-nosed punk.”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

"I think I know your brother better than anyone—lies don't go over very well with him."

 

“Who's lying? It's worth a little fib to me if it's going to bring in that much more money. Think about it."

 

Javier nodded. “I’ll consider it.”

 

“You won’t be sorry.” Emilio handed Javier some tequila.

 

Javier shot back the tequila and wondered what Emilio was really after.

 
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
 

The seventeen hand grey Hanoverian mare cleared the four foot
-
six inch jump with graceful ease. Bella’s petite stature only enhanced the giant’s height and build. The two together were equestrian perfection. They turned the tight corner and cleared the next two jumps, making a difficult feat appear effortless.

 

Bella trotted Samson’s Delilah to the center of the arena, where Jean Luc, her trainer, stood with his hands fixed upon his khaki breeches. “Wonderful,
cherie
.”

 

He patted the horse on the neck. Bella swung her right leg over the saddle and slid down Delilah’s side. “You, my dear, will be ready for next month’s horse trials in Italy if you and Delilah keep this up. Tomorrow we go out on the course.” Jean Luc playfully slapped Bella on the rump.

 

Bella took no offense at this. The entire school knew that Jean Luc maintained a preference for men. The girls at the school had a running bet going, to see if they could convince this gorgeous specimen to change his ways. But he never swayed. He chided and teased them about their incorrigible hormones, but Bella was different. She’d set her sights on becoming a world-class rider from the day she arrived at the school as a little girl, and had never wavered from that goal. Jean Luc had seen her potential from the start.

 
BOOK: The Cartel
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