Me, Diego and one of Evaristo’s men were to go in through the tunnel – this was my decision of course. It was my home and I should be the first one to step foot in it and reclaim my property. I knew the tunnel would bring us up to a space behind the pantry in the kitchen. I had no idea if our entry was going to be quiet and undetected but the kitchen was as good of a place as any. We were also armed to the teeth, which helped. I alone had a grenade, two pistols and a hunter’s knife, while Diego was armed with an AK and who knows what else up his sleeves.
While we were coming up from the inside, Evaristo would be leading the other men to come at the house from three different sides. Everyone inside would scramble and I would catch Este, hopefully while he was heading toward the very tunnel I had just come out of.
Now that we knew for sure that he was inside – Evaristo had been monitoring the site through government satellite images in the morning – I could feel the same anger from earlier simmering deep inside me.
I was going to take him down. I was going to make him pay.
Evaristo gave us the go ahead.
Diego and I hoisted up the flat board that had been covered in giant waxy leaves and peered down into the tunnel. We pulled down the agency-issued night vision glasses Evaristo had given us and proceeded to climb down the metal ladder and onto the dirt floor below. The tunnel had no lights and was far cruder than the one at the finca, but at least this way we could see without drawing attention to ourselves. Our communication between each other was kept to a minimum as well – we had all had earpieces but weren’t allowed to use them until the time was right, just in case Esteban and all his high-tech glory was having the place monitored for frequencies.
Diego and I stared up at Evaristo through the tunnel hole, back lit by a vibrant night sky. He held up his phone. “I’m tracking you. When I see you get into the house, we will ambush. After that, you’re free to use your radio transmitters.”
I didn’t care how efficient he was being, I didn’t like being bossed around.
“Remember, I want Esteban alive,” I told him.
He saluted me. “Yes, patron.”
At least he still knew his place.
He turned back to my new army, an army of depravity, and Diego and I started jogging down the long tunnel. It wasn’t a quick journey but luckily I’d been keeping up in shape during the Puente Grande stint. The only reason the 1.5 km run felt longer was because with each second that passed by, I was gearing myself up to unleash utter destruction.
With every breath I took I thought of Alana.
With every footfall I thought of Luisa.
Back and forth, the two of them, until there was nothing but ugliness inside me.
It was the perfect insurance to ensure that I wouldn’t hold back tonight.
Finally the tunnel started to slope upward and curve sharply to the right and I knew that we were under the house now. We paused before the ladder and listened. There was nothing but dead air and the sound of our own breath.
I jerked my chin at him to say, You first this time.
He nodded and climbed up, his hefty weight making the ladder wobble slightly, shaking loose dirt from the tunnel wall. This was where we had nothing but a hope and prayer that there wasn’t anything stacked on top of the cover.
Diego pressed his hands along it and slowly began to push up. I held my breath as he struggled for a moment, so sure that something was going to immediately crash in the pantry.
But he kept pushing and he was able to slowly slide the cover over, fresh air smelling of flour and tin wafting down toward us. There was a slight clank as it knocked into something solid but other than that we were as quiet as possible.
Diego eased himself up the ladder and looked around once he was fully out. I quickly came up after him and together we were squeezed in the narrow space. If I hadn’t been so strung out, I would have made a joke about his breath but as it was, nothing was funny at the moment.
My gun began to feel heavy in my hands. I needed to use it and soon.
Light was seeping in underneath the door, so I pushed my goggles up on my head and slowly pushed the door open.
The kitchen was empty. The only light came from above the stove. The fridge hummed and the house was silent except for muffled laughter coming down the hall.
A terrible scream splintered the room.
A man’s scream.
Had the ambush already begun?
I exchanged a worried glance with Diego as we heard doors further down the hall being flung open. Footsteps.
People ran past the kitchen heading up the stairs toward the scream, not bothering to look our way.
All of them except for Juanito, that was.
He stopped dead in his tracks at the archway, staring at us like we were ghosts. I couldn’t help but grin.
He snapped out of it, reaching for his gun, but mine was already aimed at him. I shot him in the kneecaps, both of them, just as his gun fired, bullets cracking the ceiling.
Then, as if on cue, all of the outside erupted in gunfire. The sound shook the walls and through the wavering windows bursts of light filled the sky. My army was here.
I ran over to Juanito who was screaming in pain and picked him up by the collar, shaking him.