12-18-2020, 02:56 PM
[The next day]
Delicato sat on the side of her bed in that squalid hotel room. Her phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Aarrggh, noooooo - " a voice screamed until the line went dead. Then a text message came through.
It was a photo of her informant, beaten to a pulp. Another text. This time, GPS co-ordinates. She quickly
got in touch with her contacts.
"Yeah" said the male voice on the other end of the line.
"We got a hit!" Delicato said excitedly.
"Let's go." said the voice.
Delicato jumped from the bed, grabbed her side-arm from the night-stand and rushed through the door.
The winding gravel road passed through some of the most treacherous country in Juarez. You don't just
have car trouble out here; you have Life trouble.
"How fucking far have we come already?" Agent 1 asked.
"Too far if you ask me!" Agent 2 replied.
Delicato sat silently in the backseat. She had no idea what awaited them but that was the job. She wasn't one
given to nervousness but this particular outing had her concern held hostage. Is this the day it all goes wrong?
They come over a rise and see a car burning in the near distance. Agent 1 slows down.
"What the Hell?" he said in disbelief.
Both agents look at each other, then back at the road. Slowly, they approach the spectacle as Delicato leans
forward in her seat. Now only yards away, they could feel the heat. Delicato starts to get out.
"NO! No..." Agent 1 cautioned.
She returns to the middle of the backseat. The burning vehicle hosted three charred occupants. Too far gone
to make heads nor tails of. They now see two men standing in the middle of that desolate gravel road, both
armed with machine guns. Pulling to a stop ten feet away, they sit with the engine running awaiting instructions.
One of the men motions for Agent 1 to kill it. He turns the key and both men walk to the car, one on each side.
"Afuera!" demanded the man on the driver's side. Agent 1 begins to open his door when corrected.
"NO! La mujer!" came the man, louder with a touch of anger.
The agents look at Delicato. She sees panic in their eyes.
"I'll be fine." she said opening her door.
She walks to the front of the car and the two henchmen lead her towards two other vehicles parked just
up ahead in a clearing. The wind was hot and it was blowing dust and uncertainty in all directions. They got
close enough to see a man standing beside the large SUV; another man in front of him - bound, gagged and
on his knees. It was Delicato's informant. This was bad.
The men stopped and motioned for her to continue. She walked right up to where the unknown man stood.
"I'm so glad you could make it!" said the clean-cut, dapper looking Mexican gentleman as he tapped his watch.
Suddenly, the car she rode out in exploded. Two hundred feet away and she could still feel the blast. She flew
forward and hunched down. Reflex. That car was sky high in a thousand pieces. The agents probably never
felt a thing.
"What the fuck???" Delicato screamed in shock.
"You won't be needing them anymore." said the smiling gentleman.
Delicato stood up to get her balance. It was all going to Hell faster than she had anticipated.
"Allow me. My name is Enrique Rios Castillo Sanchez. But you can call me Sancho."
He smiled even wider as he zapped her informant with a cattle prod. The man cried out, as much as one can
with a bandana gag. He'd been tortured and it showed. Blood and cuts and bruises mapped his whole body.
"In case you're wondering about the car on your way in..." he went on.
Delicato knew full well who they were now. And their father and husband was soon to join them.
Sancho opened the back doors of the large, black SUV and came out with a red gas can. He walked
up to the man on his knees, setting the can down, looking Delicato in the eyes.
"How dedicated are you?" he asked.
She didn't quite know what he meant but didn't like where this was going.
The henchmen now pick up the beaten man by his arms and drag him away from the two vehicles.
"There should be fine." Sancho announced.
Delicato stood watching on as this whole thing took shape. The man picked up the plastic can and held it
out towards her.
"I give you the honor." he said, still beaming that smile.
"You want me..."
"Yes, to pour." he returned.
She was caught in a very tight spot. Either way, she was more than likely dead. How would she go out?
"I can't help you." she said in a grave tone.
The man lost his friendly smile. His face now blank of emotion.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"Yeah." she said, maintaining a lock on his eyes.
"If you want anything done right..." he said as he walked towards the man about to die.
In a split second Delicato drew her weapon as the other men raised their guns. Sancho turned to look
and laughed jovially.
"So, chiquita has claws, no?" he bellowed.
He motioned for his men to lower their weapons. Delicato didn't flinch.
"There are five well-trained snipers with You in their cross-hairs at this very moment." he admitted.
Delicato scanned the surrounding area for anything that stood out.
"You don't have to take my word on that, but it would be wise."
She walked over to him while putting her gun away. He was smiling again.
"Now, where were we?" he asked before pouring the gas onto his ex-associate.
"Wait!!" Delicato shouted.
He stopped, set the can down and turned towards her.
"Why not just shoot him and be done with it? Why burn him?" Delicato questioned.
Sancho smiled, shaking his head.
"This man is a rat! A sneak, that cannot be trusted! Not to mention a violator of children! Why should
he get quick and painless?"
Delicato stood in that uncomfortably warm breeze awaiting whatever was next. She knew her words would
fall on deaf ears. He went back to pouring on the gas. Once empty, he reached into his pocket for a book of
matches.
"Last chance?" he said grinning at Delicato, waving those matches at her. She stood motionless.
"Muere para siempre cerdo!" he yelled, throwing the lit book onto the gas-soaked man.
The flames were instant. Blazing, bright orange. Sancho backed away as the man shrieked in what had
to be the most excruciating pain. At least until the nerve endings were gone. What a horrible way to die.
He walked over to Delicato, standing right in front of her. Looking into her still but frenzied eyes.
"His own daughters. He ruined, his own daughters." he said.
Tears were running down Delicato's face.
"They would never be the same. Better they leave this life behind." he said softly.
"For that you kill them?? They were just children!!" Delicato shouted.
"I had the decency to shoot them first. I would never burn children. I'm not a monster."
Delicato wiped her face, trying to figure out this nightmare.
"And their mother??" she asked.
"She knew and did nothing. So she didn't receive the same kindness." he replied.
Delicato's head was spinning. This cunning psychopath had every box ticked.
"You deal in the flesh of children yet you kill a man for doing what your very services provide?"
"I never touch them! Business is business." he said in a raised voice.
"That's a very strange and fucked up line you've drawn for yourself there!" Delicato barked.
"It is what it is, chiquita." he returned, attempting to rationalize his evil deeds.
He walks over to the other vehicle; a decent, clean late model car. Slapping the roof and once again; smiling.
"THIS, is for you!" he said, looking at Delicato.
She was still, holding his gaze. It felt like forever.
"Full tank, keys in the ignition. Spare in the trunk, just in case." he offered with a giggle.
Delicato slowly makes her way over to the car. Would she get a mile down the road and end up like Agents
1 and 2? This was what the experts would call a lose-lose. Nobody was walking out of that desert. It was
drive or it was your resting place. Tick-tock on those choices.
"And?" she asked.
"You leave Juarez, and I will let you!" he said with restrained enthusiasm.
"Today, right now! And you live." he continued.
Delicato looked at the car, then at Sancho. This didn't feel right.
"So I just drive out of here and that's it? No tricks? You just let me go?" she quizzed.
"I have great respect for you, even by reputation alone. So yes, you leave right now; you live. No tricks."
Delicato stares into the distance. So many miles of brush and cactus. That hot air made her dizzy.
"If I say no?" she asked.
Sancho walked closer, now only inches away. He glances over at the smoldering corpse, then back at
Delicato. They keep locked in for several seconds.
"How long until you're down on your knees burning?" Delicato questioned in a low, sombre tone.
Sancho beamed brightly. "It's anyone's guess!"
He signals to his men and they all get inside the SUV. The engine cranks and they drive away.
Delicato watches as their vehicle disappears into a cloud of dust. She then walks to the car left for her
and climbs inside. She grips the wheel hard and sobs uncontrollably. Banging both hands against the
dashboard, she screams her face red. This wasn't how her day was supposed to end. She started the car
and sped away from all that confusion.
This wasn't defeat. This was re-grouping.
Delicato sat on the side of her bed in that squalid hotel room. Her phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Aarrggh, noooooo - " a voice screamed until the line went dead. Then a text message came through.
It was a photo of her informant, beaten to a pulp. Another text. This time, GPS co-ordinates. She quickly
got in touch with her contacts.
"Yeah" said the male voice on the other end of the line.
"We got a hit!" Delicato said excitedly.
"Let's go." said the voice.
Delicato jumped from the bed, grabbed her side-arm from the night-stand and rushed through the door.
The winding gravel road passed through some of the most treacherous country in Juarez. You don't just
have car trouble out here; you have Life trouble.
"How fucking far have we come already?" Agent 1 asked.
"Too far if you ask me!" Agent 2 replied.
Delicato sat silently in the backseat. She had no idea what awaited them but that was the job. She wasn't one
given to nervousness but this particular outing had her concern held hostage. Is this the day it all goes wrong?
They come over a rise and see a car burning in the near distance. Agent 1 slows down.
"What the Hell?" he said in disbelief.
Both agents look at each other, then back at the road. Slowly, they approach the spectacle as Delicato leans
forward in her seat. Now only yards away, they could feel the heat. Delicato starts to get out.
"NO! No..." Agent 1 cautioned.
She returns to the middle of the backseat. The burning vehicle hosted three charred occupants. Too far gone
to make heads nor tails of. They now see two men standing in the middle of that desolate gravel road, both
armed with machine guns. Pulling to a stop ten feet away, they sit with the engine running awaiting instructions.
One of the men motions for Agent 1 to kill it. He turns the key and both men walk to the car, one on each side.
"Afuera!" demanded the man on the driver's side. Agent 1 begins to open his door when corrected.
"NO! La mujer!" came the man, louder with a touch of anger.
The agents look at Delicato. She sees panic in their eyes.
"I'll be fine." she said opening her door.
She walks to the front of the car and the two henchmen lead her towards two other vehicles parked just
up ahead in a clearing. The wind was hot and it was blowing dust and uncertainty in all directions. They got
close enough to see a man standing beside the large SUV; another man in front of him - bound, gagged and
on his knees. It was Delicato's informant. This was bad.
The men stopped and motioned for her to continue. She walked right up to where the unknown man stood.
"I'm so glad you could make it!" said the clean-cut, dapper looking Mexican gentleman as he tapped his watch.
Suddenly, the car she rode out in exploded. Two hundred feet away and she could still feel the blast. She flew
forward and hunched down. Reflex. That car was sky high in a thousand pieces. The agents probably never
felt a thing.
"What the fuck???" Delicato screamed in shock.
"You won't be needing them anymore." said the smiling gentleman.
Delicato stood up to get her balance. It was all going to Hell faster than she had anticipated.
"Allow me. My name is Enrique Rios Castillo Sanchez. But you can call me Sancho."
He smiled even wider as he zapped her informant with a cattle prod. The man cried out, as much as one can
with a bandana gag. He'd been tortured and it showed. Blood and cuts and bruises mapped his whole body.
"In case you're wondering about the car on your way in..." he went on.
Delicato knew full well who they were now. And their father and husband was soon to join them.
Sancho opened the back doors of the large, black SUV and came out with a red gas can. He walked
up to the man on his knees, setting the can down, looking Delicato in the eyes.
"How dedicated are you?" he asked.
She didn't quite know what he meant but didn't like where this was going.
The henchmen now pick up the beaten man by his arms and drag him away from the two vehicles.
"There should be fine." Sancho announced.
Delicato stood watching on as this whole thing took shape. The man picked up the plastic can and held it
out towards her.
"I give you the honor." he said, still beaming that smile.
"You want me..."
"Yes, to pour." he returned.
She was caught in a very tight spot. Either way, she was more than likely dead. How would she go out?
"I can't help you." she said in a grave tone.
The man lost his friendly smile. His face now blank of emotion.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"Yeah." she said, maintaining a lock on his eyes.
"If you want anything done right..." he said as he walked towards the man about to die.
In a split second Delicato drew her weapon as the other men raised their guns. Sancho turned to look
and laughed jovially.
"So, chiquita has claws, no?" he bellowed.
He motioned for his men to lower their weapons. Delicato didn't flinch.
"There are five well-trained snipers with You in their cross-hairs at this very moment." he admitted.
Delicato scanned the surrounding area for anything that stood out.
"You don't have to take my word on that, but it would be wise."
She walked over to him while putting her gun away. He was smiling again.
"Now, where were we?" he asked before pouring the gas onto his ex-associate.
"Wait!!" Delicato shouted.
He stopped, set the can down and turned towards her.
"Why not just shoot him and be done with it? Why burn him?" Delicato questioned.
Sancho smiled, shaking his head.
"This man is a rat! A sneak, that cannot be trusted! Not to mention a violator of children! Why should
he get quick and painless?"
Delicato stood in that uncomfortably warm breeze awaiting whatever was next. She knew her words would
fall on deaf ears. He went back to pouring on the gas. Once empty, he reached into his pocket for a book of
matches.
"Last chance?" he said grinning at Delicato, waving those matches at her. She stood motionless.
"Muere para siempre cerdo!" he yelled, throwing the lit book onto the gas-soaked man.
The flames were instant. Blazing, bright orange. Sancho backed away as the man shrieked in what had
to be the most excruciating pain. At least until the nerve endings were gone. What a horrible way to die.
He walked over to Delicato, standing right in front of her. Looking into her still but frenzied eyes.
"His own daughters. He ruined, his own daughters." he said.
Tears were running down Delicato's face.
"They would never be the same. Better they leave this life behind." he said softly.
"For that you kill them?? They were just children!!" Delicato shouted.
"I had the decency to shoot them first. I would never burn children. I'm not a monster."
Delicato wiped her face, trying to figure out this nightmare.
"And their mother??" she asked.
"She knew and did nothing. So she didn't receive the same kindness." he replied.
Delicato's head was spinning. This cunning psychopath had every box ticked.
"You deal in the flesh of children yet you kill a man for doing what your very services provide?"
"I never touch them! Business is business." he said in a raised voice.
"That's a very strange and fucked up line you've drawn for yourself there!" Delicato barked.
"It is what it is, chiquita." he returned, attempting to rationalize his evil deeds.
He walks over to the other vehicle; a decent, clean late model car. Slapping the roof and once again; smiling.
"THIS, is for you!" he said, looking at Delicato.
She was still, holding his gaze. It felt like forever.
"Full tank, keys in the ignition. Spare in the trunk, just in case." he offered with a giggle.
Delicato slowly makes her way over to the car. Would she get a mile down the road and end up like Agents
1 and 2? This was what the experts would call a lose-lose. Nobody was walking out of that desert. It was
drive or it was your resting place. Tick-tock on those choices.
"And?" she asked.
"You leave Juarez, and I will let you!" he said with restrained enthusiasm.
"Today, right now! And you live." he continued.
Delicato looked at the car, then at Sancho. This didn't feel right.
"So I just drive out of here and that's it? No tricks? You just let me go?" she quizzed.
"I have great respect for you, even by reputation alone. So yes, you leave right now; you live. No tricks."
Delicato stares into the distance. So many miles of brush and cactus. That hot air made her dizzy.
"If I say no?" she asked.
Sancho walked closer, now only inches away. He glances over at the smoldering corpse, then back at
Delicato. They keep locked in for several seconds.
"How long until you're down on your knees burning?" Delicato questioned in a low, sombre tone.
Sancho beamed brightly. "It's anyone's guess!"
He signals to his men and they all get inside the SUV. The engine cranks and they drive away.
Delicato watches as their vehicle disappears into a cloud of dust. She then walks to the car left for her
and climbs inside. She grips the wheel hard and sobs uncontrollably. Banging both hands against the
dashboard, she screams her face red. This wasn't how her day was supposed to end. She started the car
and sped away from all that confusion.
This wasn't defeat. This was re-grouping.
