“And what do you want in return?’ I asked. There was always a catch. In the distance I could hear choppers and some of the men looked to the distance in fear.
“To have opportunity,” he simply said. “To have respect. A chance to go further than I ever thought possible.” He nodded at a man who had been standing silently next to him. “Get them wherever they need to go. I’ll take care of this. As far as the country will know, a prison riot broke out, decimating all of the most heinous criminals. Javier Bernal remains in his cell, unharmed and Puente Grande remains the unescapable prison that the world thinks it is.” He looked to me again with a smirk. “They’re all yours, every one of them. You’ll be taken to a safe house and I’ll be in touch later tonight.”
At that he strode off toward the building, the sirens still going, the choppers coming closer. If we didn’t move now, we’d be on national news.
We quickly hurried off into the waiting SUV and were taken into the night.
***
I didn’t know where the safe house was, somewhere between Guadalajara and Mexico City, but it was remote and more secure than I could have imagined. It was pretty much a bunker cut into a swath of jungle. Even if it were daylight there was no way you’d see it until you were literally right on top.
It was also surprisingly spacious inside the bunker. The whole underground structure must have been the size of a mansion, simply decorated but still more than just a hole in the ground. There was a kitchen, bathrooms, dining and living rooms, plus various bedrooms with bunks and offices. Many of the doors were closed and locked. The crazy escapees, who I guessed were “mine” as Evaristo had put it, were led down the hall to the bunks. I didn’t know how any of them could sleep next to each other after that.
There was something entirely unnerving about being underground, trapped like a misdirected gopher. I kept expecting for someone to point a gun in my face and demand my return to Puente Grande, or, at the very least, kill me.
But that didn’t happen and as the night wore on, the more I realized I needed places just like this. Yes, mansions and spacious grounds and all the beautiful things I cultivated were something I wanted in my daily life, but I also needed to feel safe. After everything that had happened, I knew being safe and feeling safe were too different things.
I didn’t sleep that night. The adrenaline from the slaughter, from the escape, was still coursing through my veins. I changed into a spare set of clothes that Evaristo’s man had brought out for me – black pants and a linen dress shirt – and stayed up in the living area with Diego, drinking the few beers we found in the safe house’s fridge, trying to calm down. For all my impatience, I knew we had to wait here for Evaristo before we did anything else. If I acted just on instinct, I would have stolen an SUV and driven right up to the compound near Culiacan, ambushed the house and hoped Esteban was home.
I still didn’t know what to do about Luisa. The more I thought about her, the more disquieted I felt.
After I had lapsed into silence for a long time, Diego nudged my beer with his. In the dead air of the bunker, the sound fell flat.
“What are you going to do about Luisa?” Diego asked, reading me so well.
I exhaled out my nose, then shook my head and leaned back in my seat. “I don’t know.”
“Will you kill her?”
I closed my eyes and tried to find the truth. The truth could hurt me but at least it was real.
“I want to kill her,” I said and then corrected myself as I imagined her dead in my hands. “I need to kill her. For what she has done to me.”
“Javier, I don’t mean to play Devil’s Advocate here, but I don’t think Luisa had anything to do with putting you in jail.”
My throat felt thick, closing in. I looked at my hands, the blood still in my cuticles. “She was fucking Esteban. Isn’t that enough?”
“That’s up to you, my friend. But if you want revenge on her, you will have to wait your turn. Esteban comes first. He must be dealt with.”
“I’ll deal with him,” I said, my eyes hard as I stared at him. “I’m more than ready to.”
“I know. I just don’t want things to go to shit when we find him.”
“If anyone is to find him, they aren’t to kill him. They are to bring him to me.”
“That I think everyone knows. The whole country is awaiting your revenge, you know. Esteban has set himself up to be the villain here, not you. In some ways, you’ve got more of your people’s respect. Being in prison while he walks free with your wife, the same woman he publicly tortures, has made you out to be a martyr. And when you finally do get your revenge, they’ll revere you more for it. Without meaning to, Esteban has led a whole new victory into your hands.”
“But at what cost?” I asked quietly.