Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Pablo
I barely slept last night. After meeting Humberto and Florencia, which already had me thinking, I watched the surveillance video from Humberto’s place.
My cousin Joaquin is our intel gatherer.
He sent me five hours of recordings from while I flew down here.
Turns out, Humberto met with a potential rival from Medellín.
That pisses me off. It’s the family that’s trying to oust my dead tío’s brother.
The Cardenas family has dominated the poppy industry in Colombia for four generations.
They started out as flower sellers and moved on to something far more lucrative.
That meeting’s problematic.
I’m giving Humberto time to stew in his fear since I let the two-hour window expire without striking. He knows I didn’t forget or back down. He knows I’m plotting.
I need to go north to the second largest city in Colombia tomorrow to deal with the fucker Humberto’s plotting with.
The trip means encountering additional risks I’d prefer to avoid.
It’s dangerous to travel there, so I’ll fly.
It’s dangerous to move around Medellín when you come from the family that dominates Latin America and has connections to the head family in that city.
I’m not my cousin Alejandro. He’s a fucking ghost, I swear.
He slips in and out of spaces that should be far too narrow for someone with shoulders as broad as his.
He moves on silent feet, and despite being the most attractive man in our family, he blends into crowds.
I’m sly, but I’ve never been like him. It means people will find out I’m there.
I’m distracted from planning my trip when my computer pops up a notification that Humberto’s making a call.
Not only do we have cameras all over his property, we also tap his phones.
He knows about some cameras and wiretaps.
He thinks he’s sly and skirts our surveillance, but we have shit he’ll never find strategically placed all around his house and yards.
The men who patrol his property are loyal to Tío Enrique, not that pedazo de mierda.
I’d call him other things—son of a bitch, motherfucker—but they’d insult my bisabuela—great-grandmother. Apparently, she was a lovely woman. Humberto was just a mistake from the start.
I don’t recognize the number that appears on the notification, so I’m unprepared to hear Florencia’s voice on the line.
“I expect to see you here in two hours.”
Prick.
He called her and didn’t bother to greet her when she said hello.
“I know.” She sounds less than thrilled to have him on the other end of this call.
“Be on time.”
“I always am.”
Her responses are clipped. She doesn’t sound like she’s interested in humoring his bullshit this morning. I don’t know her, but she sounds tired compared to yesterday at the pharmacy.
“Late night, hermosa? At your club again?” Beautiful.
Not at a club.
Your club.
Is she into…
Does she belong to…
Holy hell.
The idea that she might be into BDSM makes my dick jump to attention.
Florencia doesn’t respond. Silence hangs between them, and I know Humberto will fill the void.
He loves the sound of his own voice, and he hates protracted periods of silence.
It makes him feel out of control, so he thinks talking makes him dominate the conversation.
He usually just makes himself sound like a gilipollas. Asshole.
“Bring the sample.”
“No.”
“What the fuck did you just say? You don’t refuse me.”
She remains quiet again.
Once again, she reminds me of a queen. A woman who bows to no one.
Reina.
It just seems to fit.
“You must need more sleep because you’re being difficult this morning. Maybe if you were better rested, you’d understand why that’s not a good idea.”
“I don’t have the sample.”
“Why not?”
He sounds like he’s about to rip into her. That angers me in a way I’m unprepared for.
“It wasn’t delivered.”
“You told me yesterday you tested the formula last week, and it was pure. It should be here by now.”
If I had any doubts she’s his newest pozolero, they’re gone now.
“‘Should’ doesn’t matter since it didn’t happen.
You employ the courier. You didn’t pay him for the last job.
You put a bullet in his shoulder instead.
He can’t drive his motorcycle because his arm is still immobile.
He can’t get to the drop-off point in a car, and it’s too far for him to walk.
Even if he could, how would he carry the shipment with one arm? ”
“Take your tight little ass to the lab and get it yourself.”
“No.”
If I didn’t want to admit we listen to his conversations, I’d fuck Humberto up for insulting Florencia. Part of me feels a twinge of pride for her standing up to him, but more of me worries she’ll piss him off. His imminent tantrum is likely to result in her dying.
“Florencia, you don’t seem to understand that ‘no’ isn’t an option.”
“I have a job. I can’t just take off for the three days it’ll take me to get out and back.”
“This job is worth far more than working at some shitty little store.”
“It’s the only job that pays the bills.”
He doesn’t pay her?
“And if you want to keep it, you’ll do as you’re told. I’ll have you out on the streets before noon if you don’t fucking cooperate. You’ll have nowhere to turn but back to me.”
“For how long?”
“Until I tell you you’re done.”
“So, I’m your indentured servant? I didn’t agree to that.”
“No one gave you a choice about working for me, so there was nothing for you to agree or disagree to.”
“And if I go to Luis the next time he’s here? I’ll take my chances with him.”
Fucking hell. She’s playing with fire.
Her voice doesn’t waver. She sounds confident with an edge of defiance. If I didn’t know how volatile Humberto can be, I’d be proud of her self-confidence.
“You’ll obey me, or it won’t just be your job you lose. Your mamá will spend the rest of her life chained to my fucking bed. I’ll fucking kill your abuelo and all your primos.”
He’s not just threatening her, he’s moved on to her mother, grandfather, and male cousins. This is escalating fast. I pull my phone from my pocket and fire off texts to four men I trust more than anyone else in Colombia.
Tío Esteban was super close to his cousin Alicia.
She was his first childhood friend, and he said she was his conscience before he met Tía Luciana.
She has four sons I’ve known my whole life.
I’d play with them and my cousins Jorge, Javier, and Joaquin—Tres J’s—when I came down here with my parents.
They’ll know whether Humberto’s threats are credible or just hot air he’s blowing in Florencia’s direction to intimidate her.
“And I know where the lab is, but you don’t.”
“My men are loyal to me, not you.”
I snort. Good thing neither of them can hear me.
The men who work for Humberto are loyal—but not to him.
They work for Tío Enrique, but they’re assigned to Humberto.
It appears like a shit assignment, but the men know it’s an honor.
It means we trust them more than most because Humberto hasn’t successfully left his property in the thirty-six years since I was born.
Florencia remains quiet. Her refusal to agree, concede, or even contradict him speaks louder than anything she could say. She’s the first to break the silence this time, but she isn’t giving in.
“El patrón, labs are dangerous places. So many chemicals known to ignite fires. All that smoke would draw attention to its location. It would be a shame if that happened because then you wouldn’t have the product or the money you owe your nephew.
At least some of it has to go to el jefe in New York.
You’d also have to explain destroying part of the jungle.
It wouldn’t take much to connect you to a cocaine lab.
No one but me knows how to get to and from the site.
I drove the workers and guards who were bound, gagged, and blindfolded.
They can’t leave without getting lost in the .
It means they can’t lead anyone there. You wouldn’t provide me guards while I scouted the area—or any of the other times I’ve been out there. ”
Hearing that last part pisses me off more than anything I’ve heard so far.
She could’ve already died each time she went out there.
Between man and nature, she’s been far too close to death already.
There are still indigenous tribes who don’t like trespassers, and there are rival syndicates with labs.
We allow it because it’s the price of peace for us.
The price they pay is death if they think to overreach.
I listen as Florencia continues to issue her thinly veiled threats.
“Since I take the food and supplies to the workers and the guards assigned there, they won’t work if they starve.
If anything happens to my family, ka-boom.
If anything happens to me, the forest will simply swallow it.
Maybe the men would figure out how to navigate out of the jungle, but most likely not.
If you want me to cooperate, then you agree my service is done when this shipment goes out. You can keep the recipe.”
Me
Things just got complicated here. The new pozolero just threatened to blow up the lab if forced to work beyond the end of the month. The pozolero goes out there alone. I may need to follow and take over. H is definitely more liability than ever.
Tío E
Do what you must.
I won’t name names or even use pronouns even though our texts are encrypted. There’s always the possibility someone could hack them. If I weren’t listening to this conversation, I would talk to Tío Enrique. We have jammers and scramblers, so making a call would be more secure.
I put my phone aside as I focus on the conversation between Florencia and Humberto.